Author's Note: While I'd hoped to write a silly, fluffy holiday piece this year, my Muse had other ideas, and this one would not let go. It is a direct sequel to my last three stories, but hopefully will sufficiently cover the information pertinent to the uberplot of my fanverse that was brought out in "The Bare Bear Rug Incident" so that those who didn't wish to (or shouldn't have) read it won't be confused. I intend to try to finish this by Christmas, but knowing the fickleness of my Muse, it may take a bit longer (as last year's Christmas story, "Naughty or Nice?" wasn't actually finished until after New Year's). This one will be a bit angsty for a while, but I promise, it will be much brighter before the end!

A Christmas Miracle

The miracle, or the power, that elevates the few is to be found in their industry,
application, and perseverance under the prompting of a brave, determined spirit.

Mark Twain

Part One

"Sooner or later, you'll have to decide, Mykaal. Do you keep this part of yourself a secret, or do you reveal it to the world? Some people have certainly guessed already, so it's not like it will come as a total shock."

Megamind frowned, the expression more petulant than angry. "You make it sound like I'm coming out of a closet," he huffed.

His answer was a soft chuckle. "Yes, I suppose I do. I know that it annoyed you when some people in the press kept insisting you must be gay just because you're small and thin and dressed and acted in ways they wouldn't."

"Well, wouldn't you be annoyed? It was bad enough, being stuck with getting called freak and weirdo and alien slime since just about the first day I landed here, I didn't need any other inaccurate labels, thankyouverymuch!"

This time, he was answered with an understanding nod. "Nobody ever likes to be tagged with a label that doesn't apply to them, especially when the people doing the tagging are only using it to try to be hurtful. Those situations suck, 'cause you're damned if you do react and damned if you don't, someone's going to take it the wrong way no matter what you do. I know you're not gay, and I also know you're not homophobic — really, you're one of the most remarkably openminded people I've ever met, especially in light of your personal history — but I took the time to get to know you instead of just going on the verdict of the court of public opinion. And that's why you have to decide, Mykaal, and not put this off any longer than is absolutely necessary. Because the longer you wait and say nothing, the worse things might go when you finally do — or when somebody else does it for you, even by accident."

For a long minute, Megamind's frowned deepened, but with thought. "Are you saying you'd do it, Phil?"

Still smiling, Philip DeVries — the tall, sandy-haired psychologist who had worked at the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted during the alien's last few years as a supervillain and now counseled him in his private practice, as they were doing today — turned to his most celebrated client and shook his head. "You know I wouldn't, just out of professional ethics, if nothing else. But I believed you had the makings of a hero way before you gave up being a villain, so I think I'm capable of being at least a little more objective about this. Beyond question, you're the smartest person on this planet, probably the smartest person this world will ever see."

When a familiar purple-pink blush brightened the alien's cheeks and the tips of his slightly pointed ears, Phil knew he'd embarrassed him with his praise, but he didn't relent. God knew that if more people had persisted in recognizing his true gifts when he'd been a boy instead of abusing his fragile self-esteem, so much trouble and heartache could have been avoided. "I've always thought so, and when you showed me the hard evidence about why you were the one person your entire planet chose to save, you proved that I was right. You've already given everyone else at least a taste of that proof with the new regional winter emergency system you finally got to show off in action last week, and then there are all the other things you've told me you have in the works that will blow the public's minds away when they're ready to be released. You've always been brilliant with your gadgetry, even when it didn't quite work the way you wanted, but these things you're doing now are a quantum leap above all that — and you're just getting started! Do you honestly think that people aren't going wonder what changed, why after all those years of failing you're suddenly not only succeeding, but doing things that are way more than technical tricks and fancy weaponry?"

The ex-villain fidgeted for a while, then shook his head in surrender. "No. I know they will. But..." He shifted position in his chair, as if the comfortable overstuffed thing had suddenly turned to a seat of nails. "Some people are going to accuse me of lying, of deliberately hiding the truth all these years, for nefarious purposes. They're going to ask what kind of a hero could keep secrets that could've saved lives." The haunted look on his face said what he couldn't say aloud.

So Phil said it for him. "The people who lost family and friends to things this advanced knowledge you have access to now could've saved." He sighed when the big blue head simply nodded. "So you tell them the truth, Mykaal. Don't make Wayne Scott's mistake and put it off; decide what you want to reveal and then volunteer the information before anyone even asks. Tell everyone that your people had wisely locked away all this knowledge so that you didn't even know it existed until you were a full adult, and that for your people, that didn't occur until some time in the early thirties. And at that, you were lucky, since it seems your mind reached its full adult development about a year before the rest of your body was finished. You know that medical records exist to show the changes in you over the years, and people have seen for themselves that you didn't completely finish your physical maturation until just a couple of months ago."

Megamind winced. "Yes, I suppose they did notice that," he grumbled, not referring to the spectacular sales of the calendar he'd made for charity, but rather the sniping of the tabloid press that had followed — in particular the snide remarks and innuendos of one Didi Benton, who'd borne a grudge against the blue hero ever since he'd been a villain and had flatly refused her offer to become his bargain basement Roxanne Ritchi, singing his praises in the press for the ultimate purpose of furthering her own career. Ever since someone had made positive mention of how remarkably hot Metro City's Blue Defender looked in the calendar pictures a day or two after its release, Didi had started a campaign to find fault with it. She'd even gone so far as to speculate that the reason for Megamind's subtle but attractive physical changes were the result of some kind of appearance altering surgery or workout program, an indication that his marriage was on the rocks, that Roxanne was either getting bored with him or he with her, that he was on the lookout for someone to replace her, that he was letting success go to his head and was assembling a harem of mistresses to enjoy when his wife's obsession with work left his needs unfulfilled... The list was seemingly endless, incredibly smarmy, and completely wrong. He positively loathed this so-called "journalist" for all the lies she delighted in spreading under the cover of "speculation."

Phil knew all this, having heard his friend and client's complaints about Didi — or Dodo, as Megamind privately, and rather accurately, preferred — ever since her venomous attacks had begun. "If you want to permanently shut up Ms Benton and anyone like her, you might consider telling people about that, too. About how you and Roxanne can't hide things from one another, and why neither of you would never even think of cheating on each other, or separating."

The reformed villain frowned more deeply. He didn't really like to talk about this with anyone but Roxanne. The psionic connection between soulmates that his people were capable of expressing and initiating was the most personal and intimate and magnificent thing two individuals could share, but it only occurred for a handful of seconds during the climax of physical intimacy, only between two people who were true soulmates, and then only after the couple had formally committed themselves to one another. It allowed the two to literally become one in heart and mind and soul, and as it brought them together in total honesty, the joining also brought such complete empathy and ecstasy, it made the thought of ever taking anyone else as a lover utterly repugnant.

He'd told the psychologist of this because he felt it was an important thing for his counselor to know. Phil had initially speculated about whether this might be some equivalent of the biological mating for life observed in some Earth species, but he knew that it wasn't, especially not after he'd been provided with some portions of detailed studies on the subject. It proved that there were indeed more things in heaven and on earth than people ever dreamed, since the two halves of this soul had been born on different worlds more than half a galaxy apart — and they had still found one another. The psychologist frankly found it amazing, and felt that more people ought to be made aware that such a thing could truly exist.

Megamind tended to disagree, knowing from bitter experience how people could refuse to believe anything they chose, or could twist it to suit their purposes. He suspected, for instance, that the bigots would decry this as evidence that Roxanne had married him only because she was under some form of mind control, and the "soulmate connection" was a deceptive cover for a kind of vampiric seduction, designed to use base physical responses to cloud the mind and keep the victim enslaved. Idiots like Didi had already made similar speculations when he and Roxanne had started dating, and any evidence of a genuine psychic ability on his part would be jumped on like the proverbial starving dog on a pork chop.

Now, he simply looked sad and troubled. "And if I tell the public about what Roxanne and I share, and people like Dodo try to twist it into something sick and sordid... Why should I tell them? This is strictly between Roxanne and me, I can't prove it exists in any way the bigots would accept or understand. They'd take one of the most incredibly beautiful parts of my entire life and find a way to make me feel ashamed of it! You know they would!"

Phil couldn't deny that. He inclined his head in unhappy acknowledgment of that fact. "You're right, people who can't open their minds to accept people of a different race or religion would never understand this or accept it, possibly not even if they themselves experienced it. But you do need to at least be prepared with some kind of an explanation, just in case a relentless busybody like Didi Benton does catch wind of it and tries to distort the truth. Being prepared for something that never happens is better than being caught with your pants down."

Megamind shuddered. "Speaking as someone raised in a prison... yes, definitely, not something I ever want happening to me! So..."

He fell silent for a minute, though one could almost hear his brain working at lightspeed. "Do you honestly think people would be less afraid of finding out that I really am a supergenius than they'd be of finding out that I have a psionic ability that only works for five seconds with one person, and then only under very particular circumstances?"

The psychologist spread his hands. "Knowing the way most people's minds work, I'd say yes. Having superhuman intelligence isn't as immediately threatening as having superhuman powers. Sure, your IQ is so far off the charts, it can't be meaningfully measured by any tests or instruments we have, but intelligence and thinking and learning new things aren't alien concepts. That five-second psionic ability would sound to them like a Vulcan mind-meld or worse, and that is totally alien to us humans, outside of science fiction. So what is actually your most powerful gift — your intellect and your phenomenal capacity for learning and making use of knowledge and expanding upon it — would be considered dismissible in comparison to that extremely limited and totally harmless psychic ability. It doesn't make sense, but then, a lot of what people do doesn't make sense, it's irrational."

The troubled aspect of the blue hero's demeanor faded a bit. "Dismissible to some people, not everyone," he pointed out, thinking of the warped so-called scientists who would be even more hungry to get at him if they knew how advanced his brain could truly be.

Phil couldn't deny that, either. "No, not everyone. But you aren't a child anymore, Mykaal, not in any way. You may not have had the collected knowledge of your entire civilization at your disposal until a year ago, but people have always known that you're smart, and the life you lead and have been leading has taught you a lot about how to protect yourself and the people you love."

The therapist waggled one long finger at his client, though in emphasis, not in scolding. "And that's another thing you shouldn't discount. When you were young and keeping you in the prison was a means of protecting you from bastards who'd try to use you, there weren't a whole lot of people who cared about you and wanted to keep you safe. Now, there are literally thousands, possibly even millions. Not everyone is going to love you, but a lot of people do, all over the world. While you've been going out to defend them and help them when they're in trouble, they've been rising up more and more to defend you against the hate and lies people like Didi enjoy spewing. If you acted cold and unfeeling, they'd probably behave differently, but you don't, and that makes a world of difference."

Megamind exhaled in a very soft sigh. "Roxanne's said pretty much the same thing, though she calls it 'wearing my heart on my sleeve.' I know I'm terrible when it comes to hiding my emotions, I always have been — as I'm sure Warden Thurmer and half the guards told you when you first started working at the prison. And I suppose you're both right. I was terrified that letting myself learn so many new things would turn me into some kind of emotionless walking computer, but it hasn't. If anything, I tend to get even more emotional when I get excited about new things I've learned and new ideas I get for things I can do with the information. People haven't seemed to mind that, and it is rather gratifying, to find more and more people accepting me, and not just because I'm their defender or someone coming up with gadgets to make their lives easier. All the seriously negative crap is coming from self-centered idiots who complain about anything and everything that doesn't fit their narrow definition of acceptable. I could lay down and die for them, and they'd still find some reason to criticize me."

"Exactly. By being open and honest with everyone, you may give fresh fodder to the bigots, but you will give the people who love and support you more to strengthen their defense of you, and more reason to want to defend you. Trust is a powerful thing. If you don't show it, if you cut people out of the loop for too long, you can wind up where Wayne Scott did. Those who supported you will start thinking you don't trust them, and things can get ugly."

"That's why Minion left me, that one time," Megamind admitted quietly. "I didn't tell him what I was really thinking or feeling, and he felt rejected. And Roxanne dumped me when she found out that I'd been dating her under a disguise."

"Cutting off people who care for you or lying to them never ends well," Phil agreed. "Nobody likes to feel as if they're being played. I'm not saying you should spill your guts about everything and give the whole world every single detail of what you're up to and what you're planning — the criminal element alone could obviously try to use that against you — but be open about what you are, and what you want. If you do that, you'll avoid the trap Wayne fell into, and the foolish mistakes he made, letting everyone else decide what he should be doing with his life. You already know how that feels."

The alien rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, I know! Some days I think that Wayne bullied me because he was being bullied by his parents, or at least his father, and neither one of us had the sense to dig in our heels and say 'stop it!'"

"Quite likely. We counselors have a saying about how we all tell other people how they can treat us by what we allow them to do to us. If someone hurts you and you don't tell them to stop, they figure they can keep getting away with it, and they usually do. And if you should finally tell them to knock it off, they get offended because they figure it wasn't their fault, it was yours, and you shouldn't suddenly start changing the rules."

The counselor leaned back in his chair. "The people of this city are going to react according to how you let them treat you, and how you treat them. If you want respect, you have to start by being willing to give respect. Be honest, to them and to yourself, and set boundaries. You've already been doing those things since you became a hero by not letting other people dictate how and when you do that job. You're smart, and you have both a wife and a friend who will always be there to have your back. You're not an outcast alien trapped in a literal prison, stuck playing out a role you never wanted, not anymore. You can do this, Mykaal. You can tell the world just who you really are, what you're capable of offering them, and what you want to do, and you can find a way to do it that will make you happy, not miserable."

The blue genius listened attentively — something he had learned to do much, much better since he'd given up villainy and started making an effort to improve himself for the sake of Roxanne and Minion. When Phil stopped talking, he waited expectantly for a few moments, then smiled wryly. "But you're not going to give me any suggestions for how to do it, are you?"

Phil grinned. "Nope. I'll give you my opinion about any ideas you may come up with, but I won't give you any ideas — I can't. I don't really know enough about what this Natoshi'ana thing means, what all it encompasses, and you have to make your decisions based on your own goals and feelings. You can ask Minion and Roxanne, of course, but in the end, even their ideas will have to be weighed against what you want to do with your life and the gifts with which you were born."

Megamind slouched down, head dropping back to stare up at the ceiling, fingers drumming on the chair's arms and booted toes tapping on the floor, out of sync at first but quickly growing less so. When all were tapping together, he suddenly stopped and lifted his head. "Okay, you have a point. A lot of points. Probably as many points as I have spikes on my costume. If I'd just been honest with myself and refused to let Wayne push me around when we were kids, I could've avoided the whole twenty years of us at each other's throats. Which could've wound up either better or worse, so there's no point in dwelling on it."

He folded his arms across his chest, green eyes first focused on something inside himself, then suddenly focusing on Phil. "But... I know you, and I know you expect me to learn some kind of lesson from all this chit-chat. Which, I'm presuming, is to learn from my mistakes — or Wayne's."

The psychologist chuckled. "Well, it is big for a reason," he joked, pointing to Megamind's head, not his own.

The blue genius smirked. "You're evil, you do know that? After twenty years as a supervillain, I should know."

Now, Phil laughed fully. "You were never evil, but you did give your all to putting on a good show of it. What you have always been is smart, sometimes too smart for your own good."

Megamind snorted. "I used to think that wasn't possible, you know, one can never think too much — but I was wrong. You can spend all your time thinking, and not doing. Or vice versa. That was Wayne's problem, he did too much for people without thinking about whether or not he should. And... I'm thinking too much about things now to avoid doing anything about it." The blossom of lavender across his cheeks and ears told how uncomfortable he was, making that admission.

"Then you've already learned something valuable," Phil approved, kindly ignoring his client's chagrin. "Look, Mykaal, you don't have to decide anything right this moment — except maybe to decide that you will stop avoiding the issue. It is your life, and if you're comfortable keeping your light hidden under a bushel, it's your affair. I personally don't think that would be a wise choice, but it is yours alone to make."

But the ex-villain immediately shook his head. "Not entirely. Aside from Roxanne and Minion, I can't forget that this 'light' is the reason I'm alive today. I know, I know, I have no obligation to live my life to fulfill the hopes and dreams of anyone but myself — but I don't want to keep it hidden, not entirely or forever. I know I can do things to help so many people, and the more I learn, the more ideas I have, and the more effective I know anything I decide to do will be! And yes, I do want to do it for my people, especially for my parents. They believed I had a destiny, and for so many years, I misunderstood it. I know what they meant, now, and I want to at least try to achieve some part of the great potential they saw in me. Isn't that normal? For a child to want to do something with his life that will make his parents proud?"

Phil nodded. "It is — and there's nothing wrong with it, so long as whatever you do makes you feel proud of yourself, in your own right."

The purple-pink tinge that had faded from the blue face returned, though only faintly. "I want that, too. Probably more than anything else."

The therapist now smiled. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. You've come a long way from the surly person I remember from my first day on the job at the prison. Back then, you would've made a big show of sneering at the idea of helping people, and honestly, I couldn't blame you, you've been shown the short end of the stick ever since you landed on this planet. How you managed to keep anything good and optimistic alive inside you, I'll never know, but if I ever figure it out, I'm going to write a dozen texts on it and maybe another dozen self help books and then head to the talk show circuit, telling all about my most famous client, and finally retire a rich man."

Megamind blinked at him for about half a minute, mouth hanging open, green eyes wide, then broke into a full laugh. "And if I believed for one second that you'd actually do that, you wouldn't have your most famous client!"

Phil returned with the most mild of expressions, gray eyes completely innocent. "Who said anything about you? I was referring to the former Metro Man."

His wry wisecrack just made the blue genius laugh all the more, and the therapist soon joined in. When he could breathe well enough to talk again, Megamind grinned. "And Wayne's been seeing you for... what two whole weeks, now?"

Phil shrugged. "About that. Ever since his last therapist bailed on him 'cause he decided he didn't like having a client doing community service with an ex-con for his 'parole officer'."

The ex-villain made a pouty face that was spoiled by the laughter that kept trying to bubble back. "Does this mean I can't complain about my past history with him and expect you to be on my side, anymore?"

"Nah, it just means that if I hear the two of you bitching about certain things too much, I'm gonna start leaning on you to go into couple's therapy."

"We are not a couple!" was the indignant retort, though Megamind was still on the verge of laughing.

"You're a couple of real characters," the counselor replied. "And actually, if things do go that way, it might be a good idea to include Roxanne and Minion, make it group therapy. But only if you three check your de-guns at the door, and Scott keeps a leash on those powers he never really lost."

"If he doesn't, I'll introduce him to the inhibition field I finally figured out how to make, just for him." He said it with such a wicked glint in his green eyes, Phil couldn't help but grin.

"It's a good thing you got all this ultra-competitive 'evil' bit out of your system before that brain of yours grew up enough to have all that information from your homeworld released to you," he said with a playfully scolding gesture. "God only knows what you would've tried pulling on him — and us!"

Megamind preened a bit, but mostly out of habit. "Oh, I might've annoyed the rest of the planet within an inch of their lives, but you know I never wanted to actually hurt anyone but Wayne."

"Hmm. Well, you can keep sticking with that story if that's what makes you happy." A soft chiming sound from something on the therapist's desktop caught his attention. "Thinking of Scott, I'm supposed to see him professionally tonight — if I can get through all my other appointments on time! Are you good to go now? Time's up."

The blue hero sighed and nodded. "I could say that I came in only because Roxanne insisted, but I know that's not true. This has been eating at me for a while, should I, shouldn't I, what if this, what if that. You're right, there isn't much point in trying to keep things secret if I want to use all these ideas I keep coming up with for making this world a better place. It's just a question of deciding, mostly when and how and what to tell everyone."

"And I'm sure Roxanne and even Wayne can give you some pointers to help you out. He can tell you all about the pitfalls, and she has an excellent sense for the when and where and how. You'll do fine, Mykaal, and if there's anything more I can do to help, just let me know."

"As a matter of fact," Megamind said as he pushed himself out of his slouch to get to his feet, "there is. You can tell me whether or not you and Leila will be coming to the holiday party at the Lair next week. Ever since he found out that our homeworld held a change of the seasons festival at about this same time of year, Minion's been spending his every free moment, and some that aren't free, planning this thing. He's terrified that no one's going to show up because he hasn't gotten any answers to the invitations yet." He snorted. "He only sent them out three days ago, but neither Roxanne nor I have been able to put his mind at ease."

Phil chuckled as he closed the pad he'd been using to take notes. "I keep telling you, group therapy would do you all a world of good! But tell him yes, we'll be there, and Leila thinks the invitations he made were just beautiful. She wants to ask him to design some for our daughter Lexi's wedding, next fall."

Megamind made a wry face as he went to collect the multi-layered blue and black leather coat that was a part of his winter costume. "If I tell him that, he's going to forget everything else and launch into his wedding planner mode. He apparently had so much fun doing it for me and Roxanne, he's been itching to do it again. Every time Wayne or Bernard or any other single person we know even looks at someone twice, he starts asking if they're serious."

The psychologist returned to his desk to put away his pad and make a few notations on his computer. "It's a good thing you're not planning to raise a family, then. If you were, he'd already be setting things up for every occasion from their first birthday on."

The green eyes rolled heavenward. "He did ask once, but he realized it was a foolish question two seconds later. Sterile is sterile, and a love for parties is not a good reason to bring a child into the world."

Phil looked up from his tapping at the keyboard as Megamind shrugged into his coat. "Are you sure both you and Roxanne are okay with this decision about kids? Neither of you are burying your real feelings to make the other happy?"

There was not the slightest trace of doubt in the answering, "I'm sure. The psychic bond may only last for a matter of seconds, but nothing is hidden. She doesn't have any buried yearning to be a mother, I'm sure I'd stink as a father, and we both prefer the pleasure of interacting with other people's children. That way we can devote ourselves to our careers and each other and not worry about slighting the kids. It works for us both quite well. I suppose it might be something hardwired into me, but the idea of leaving my children in the hands of other caretakers is..." The blue face twisted into a peculiar expression of disgust, shock, disbelief, and something else Phil couldn't quite pin down. "...inconceivable. Even if that caretaker was Minion. It's like trying to get negatively charged particles to attach to the negative pole of a magnet, my head just won't wrap itself around it."

Though he'd heard this same claim from this client before, the therapist was reassured to hear it again. "I could wish more of my clients understood themselves half so well. It'd considerably cut down on the load of family therapy and child neglect and abuse cases I have to deal with."

Megamind smirked as his nimble fingers finished sealing the coat's asymmetrical closure, then swept up the tall fur-lined collar. "They're only ordinary Terran humans, Doctor, you can't expect too much from them. So, can I tell Minion you and your wife are definitely coming next Saturday?"

"We'll be there with bells on. Not literally," he added when the ex-villain gave him a singularly dubious look. For all the blue alien's brilliance, Phil would never fail to be amused by the pronunciations and common phrases that still managed to confound him. Ah, well, he told himself as he gave his client a cheerful farewell salute, nobody's perfect.

It was still early afternoon by the time Megamind wrapped up his appointment, so he decided to take his winter-modified hoverbike on a quick turn around the city, to make sure things were quiet and to give a longer test to the new wind protection and heating system he'd installed earlier in the week. He saw Phil on an average of once a month — more often if he could when times were stressful, less often when things were quiet and going well. During his villain years, when he'd been required to see whatever psychologist happened to be working at the prison as a part of their mandated attempts to rehabilitate inmates, he knew he'd been totally obstructionist toward every therapist the state trotted out, including Phil DeVries. He'd probably been solely responsible for the high rate of turnover of people in that position at the Metro City prison.

But as Phil had seen something more in him under his villainous bravado and posturing, so had he always been able to feel that the man had a genuine desire to help, not to force him into some predetermined mold to produce a model citizen, but to find a way for that person Megamind had buried deep inside long ago to come out again. He'd scoffed at Phil's attempts even as he secretly longed for him to succeed in his goal, and now that he had, the blue hero found that he didn't mind continuing to see him, both as a professional and as a friend. He actually looked forward to it.

He knew that Roxanne and Minion would listen to anything he needed to talk about, but frankly, there were times he just didn't want to dump on them, never mind that he couldn't avoid it with his wife, not unless he wanted to put their love life on hold. And that tactic didn't work, anyway, because the moment he started pulling back from intimacy, she knew something was up, that he was trying to hide something from her, and that was always enough to get her to lean on him to talk about it.

Really, Didi Benton was out of her mind if she thought either of them could possibly be cheating on the other! They knew each other so well by now, lying wasn't much of an option. If they tried, sparks were sure to start flying, tempers would flare, the fighting would rage — for maybe a few hours, a day or two, tops, and then the reconciliation would begin simply because they both knew so much about how the other felt and couldn't help but empathize. That invariably led to the kissing and making up, which inevitably led to more intimate expressions of apology and affection, which finally led them back to that brief moment of absolute union in which they couldn't help but completely understand one another. Even if the stresses and strains of life made them forget for a while, they remembered whenever they met as soulmates and for five brief but infinitely blissful seconds were one in all ways, healing any rifts between them.

And the sheer ecstasy of those seconds was almost like a drug, making them want to return to that state in which they could feel intense joy, complete pleasure, absolute understanding, and inner healing. Roxanne had speculated that this was the reason this limited ability had developed in his people, as a kind of ultimate couple's therapy, and though he knew there was much more to it than that, he couldn't disagree. Didi had no idea of what was reality for them as a couple, and if Megamind had anything to say about it, the narrow-minded, spiteful, bigoted bitch never would.

Well, he'd been fighting with Dodo and her foul mouth for years, ever since she'd propositioned him with the "brilliant idea" of becoming his mouthpiece in the media. Phil was right about him needing to make a decision soon so as to avoid the problems Wayne had created for himself when he'd decided that faking his death was preferable to admitting that he was approaching burnout. He supposed he'd known this for a while, now, and had just hoped that maybe if he waited long enough, an easy solution would pop up. The easy solution, he now saw, was just what Phil had suggested: volunteering the information before circumstances did it for him. He still wasn't quite sure how to do this without making a mess of things, but this kind of presentation was Roxanne's specialty, and he knew she'd be happy — even relieved — to help.

As he cruised over the city — the streets clear but the landscape still thick with the heavy snow that had pounded them less than a week ago — Megamind was pleased to see that the pre-holiday activity was reasonably well-behaved. A few minor shoplifting incidents and fender benders were easily handled by the police, and the owner of a convenience store managed to thwart an attempted robbery with the help of a passing patrol bot. He knew better than to try to jump in and deal with every situation, now, though he did swoop down to lend a hand by rescuing a kid whose overambitious run down the sledding hill in one of the city's parks had sent him flying well beyond the foot of the hill, crashing through a flimsy excuse for a snow fence and out onto the thin ice of the park's lagoon.

The boy's fearful panic at finding himself breaking through the skin of ice into cold, deep water had shifted to awe when he saw the city's Defender come swooping down to pluck him out of peril and take him back to safety. Even his fretting and scolding mother couldn't dampen the dripping boy's spirits at such a rescue, and though Megamind insisted that he be promptly bundled up and taken home before he froze to death, it was obvious that the boy was the envy of his friends and would be bragging about his rescue — and the fact that he'd actually gotten to ride on the hero's legendary hoverbike, however briefly — for weeks to come.

The boy's attitude was immensely satisfying to the ex-villain, an expression of the acceptance he was now receiving. It was especially gratifying to receive this response from the children, since they often mirrored the feelings of their parents, but without the evasions and artifice adults might use to hide them. Kids could be cruel, but they were also often honest, in ways their elders had long since forgotten.

Feeling enormously pleased, Megamind finished his sweep of the city and his longer test of the bike's new systems, then flicked into stealth mode and headed back to the Lair under the cloak of invisibility. Slipping into the rooftop hangar, he left the bike in the capable claws of the maintenance bots as he went down to the living level in search of something to stop the rumbling in his stomach, which had missed lunch. Alfred and a few other brainbots were there to greet him and take his winter outerwear, and the scent of something warm and delicious wafting from the kitchen had his feet instantly moving in that direction. The utter stillness of the place didn't quite register with him until he reached the kitchen entrance. He stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw inside.

It being a Saturday, he wasn't at all surprised to see that Roxanne was home; her only plans for the day had been to do a little Christmas shopping later in the afternoon, when the morning rush crowds had thinned a bit. What he didn't expect to see was Minion sitting at the kitchen table, his habitat dome open so that Roxanne could reach inside and touch him. It was plainly a gentle, soothing touch; the blue genius could see that in her body language and her sad expression, as well as the look of pain on the ichthyoid's toothy face.

That prompted an immediate surge of concern. "Tori! Are you hurt?"

Roxanne looked up at the sound of his voice, a ghost of a welcoming smile flitting across her face before vanishing like dust in the wind. "Not physically," she assured her husband, waiting for him to come closer before explaining. "It's... We just got a call from Metro General Hospital. It's Emily Thurmer."

Megamind felt something inside him go cold and clench into stone at the same time. The wife of Warden Thurmer had been the closest thing to a mother figure either he or Minion had ever known on Earth. Though she hadn't been as directly involved in their lives as her husband, the times he remembered meeting the always friendly and laughing woman had been rare moments of genuine warmth in his childhood, a quiet promise that the world wasn't truly the nightmare it seemed to be. She'd often asked Minion how he was faring, trying to raise his own "little one," and she'd somehow managed to keep thinking of both the orphaned aliens as her friends, even during their years of villainy.

Clawing his way through the sudden fog of shock, Megamind's throat thickened as he tried to speak the word he didn't want to utter. "Dead?"

He would never be sure just how he felt when Roxanne shook her head and said, "No, but a massive stroke. She's in a coma and..." It was the reporter's turn to swallow thickly, her eyes bright with the unshed tears of sympathy for both her husband and his ersatz brother. She took his hand in her free one, her fingers tightening around the slender blue ones. "It doesn't look good, Mykaal. They don't expect her to make it through the night."

To be continued...