Pale Blue Shadows

Author's Note:

I had help with the evil invention names: http colon slash slash www dot persistentrealities dot com slash ?p=28.

Chapter 9: Playing With Fire

Roxanne would never know just how hard Syx had struggled to stay put as her breast heaved with suppressed rage and her eyes flashed with a hunger for violence and destruction that mirrored his own. Roxanne would never realize how desperately he had battled his own feelings, or for exactly how long. She would never really understand all of the reasons why it would be a horribly terrible thing for him to give in to the emotions and desires that simmered under his pale blue skin.

She would never know, because in the moment Roxanne declared her desire for him to destroy Metro Man, his own desires flared to life, making it simply too impossible for him to think clearly. She would never realize these things because the second she said she was actually going to stay here with him, his feet began to move of their own accord. She would never understand the reasons they shouldn't be together because his lips crashed down upon hers, claiming them as his private territory. She would never understand because he was definitely not going to be the one to tell her.

He was already in her personal space when she had finished raging against Metro Man. She blinked rapidly, uncertain when exactly he had stepped so close to her. She wondered dully if he was going to be upset about the clock. Though, she supposed that next to a particle decelerator, a clock was probably child's play. She didn't expect his arms to snake around her and pull her roughly towards him.

But the second he did, her eyes fluttered closed in expectation. His lips met hers violently, and Roxanne gasped in surprise at the sudden pressure. A gasp which he exploited entirely to his benefit. Roxanne clawed her hands up his shoulders as his tongue ran across hers, possessively claiming her mouth for his own. A surge of despairing hunger ran through her as she caved to his touch. Her knees felt weak.

She pulled him closer. She moved against him, her body begging for more of him. Her lips attacked his with equal force as a wild sense of need filled her. She'd wanted him for years, she realized now, the thought an arrow of reason amidst a sea of confused, hungry emotion. Maybe it was for the worst, but when the one reasonable thought in your mind is just how long you've wanted something, the only reasonable thing to do is surrender completely.

Roxanne pressed closer to him as his arms pulled her even tighter. Their tongues battled for dominance. His taste was intoxicating. The violence in his affections had her body aflame. One of his hands fisted tightly in her hair and pulled just ever so lightly. An incomprehensible sound left Roxanne's throat. Her eyes opened to see him gazing down into her face, a burning look of triumph in his eyes. He pulled again, just a slight tug, experimenting. Roxanne clutched desperately at him, pulling him closer as she struggled against his grip.

His lips touched the angle of her face, where jaw bone melted into graceful neck. A second inarticulate cry escaped her. He traced the lines of her neck with his lips. They were soft, gently teasing her sensitized nerve endings. His hands slid to her shoulders, running softly up and down her bare arms, triggering every cell in her body into joining into one lustful ooze. He paused and Roxanne's eyes fluttered open. He was looking at her with a delighted smirk. He couldn't have staked his claim any more clearly if he had said it.

Roxanne met his look helplessly, longingly. "Don't stop," she begged, her voice sounding ragged and desperate. She watched his eyes, drinking in the loss of control her words inspired. His lips were back on her own, his hands grasping her arms in a grip that Roxanne felt just might leave bruises. The puddle of warmth in her insides seemed to turn to molten lava at the thought.

Roxanne dismissed any thoughts of questioning any part of this. She could think later, right now she needed to taste his skin. Her lips slid from his mouth to the underside of his chin and down the angular line of his jaw. She didn't just place feather-light kisses though. A part of her had been starving for touch, for physical affection for so long that the ache was only intensifying. The desperate fear that this moment might, at some point, end, was leaving her feeling like a drowning woman.

She sucked and nibbled at his skin, drawing a ragged breath from his own lips. "Roxanne," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. He tasted the way he smelled – like something exotic and unnamable, tinged with hints of leather. Roxanne pulled away, their eyes meeting as they paused. They swam in a fog of lust.

Roxanne leaned forward, placing a light, tight-lipped kiss on his mouth. For a moment, he eyes spoke of something gentler. They had reflected an endless green sea of devotion that had brought the lump back into Roxanne's throat. She pulled him back down, her mouth ravaging his now, as he clutched at her. Her head spun. She wanted to sit. She wanted to lie down. She wanted to tangle her body with the body of this gloriously strange and different man. She'd be content if she could drown in his kisses and his touch.

"Sir?" Minion's voice echoed down the hallway and through the open door of the bedroom. The couple broke apart in surprise, their hands still wrapped around each other's body. "Sir? I managed to track down one of those components you were looking for."

Roxanne was loathe to move away. She wasn't certain her legs would support her in such an action. She wasn't sure she could bare the thought of not fusing her mouth back to his, with his curiously sharp teeth and his wickedly creative tongue. For a long moment, he didn't move either, except to flinch slightly towards the door the next time Minion's voice called out, this time closer. There was a brief instant, just after his hands slipped from her arms, where she wondered if he might simply close the door. Already she felt bereft, the longing to be drawn back into his embrace drowning all sense of reason. She wanted… she needed more.

He leaned forward, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in her short hair. "Later," he breathed, sending a shiver down Roxanne's spine. Even without a cape, his exit was dramatic.


A good portion of the next hour had been spent curled up on the bed. Roxanne sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her spine resting against the backboard. A multitude of thoughts streamed through her mind, though they had been ultimately dominated by the memory of his touch and his kiss. He was absolutely wicked. Kissing him had been violent and fraught with a power struggle she hadn't been certain she wanted to actually win. It had also been the most alive she had felt in years. The lust that had swept through her veins had been deliciously intoxicating.

Roxanne stared at the bedroom's open door. She had lost a part of herself in the aftermath of the car accident. The last week had felt like a short course in hatred for humanity's lack of humanity. The past twenty-four hours had been an awakening. Parts of her personality she had tucked away as "bad" or just self-indulgent had been pampered and given free-reign. And it had felt good. Wonderfully good. Like she was finally coming to terms with herself. Was it possible that maybe, deep down, she'd always been bad too? Just pretending to be good because it had always seemed like the only option?

Roxanne wracked her brain. Why was it bad to be bad? What morals had she held that had kept her own actions in check? Or had it always only really been fear? Scared to get caught. Scared to lose the promotion. Scared of everything except what she was supposed to be scared of – the evil villain who actually threatened her life. What reasons were there to hold back, now that she felt no remorse for the faceless hordes and their stupid, hypocritical ways? At this point, would things like stealing and destruction, or even further murders, even hurt her the way the first had? Would feeling bad about being bad simply be more of the hypocrisy she was beginning to despise in the people around her?

Forty-two nudged its way under one of her hands. "Bowg," it said contentedly. Roxanne stared down at its sparking blue dome, running her hand over it soothingly. What did it say when the supposedly emotion-less Brainbots were kinder and gentler than all the "good" people of Metro City?

Roxanne let her legs sprawl out across the bed, sighing softly. Thirty-six's red eye stared at her from the foot of the bed. "Bowg?" it demanded, its loyalty to its master still unquestioned despite the strange scene it had witnessed just the hour before.

"What's the point?" Roxanne asked the glaring red bot. "What point it there to being good when all they do is punish you for it? What reasons are there, really, not to be bad?"

Thirty-six floated slightly up from the foot of the bed, its tentacles trailing slowly behind it as it stared unblinkingly at Roxanne. She reached out a hand to stroke it's sparking red dome. The bot froze beneath her hand. "Bowg?" it questioned softly, suspicion in its tone, if Roxanne was reading it right.

Roxanne let her hand fall. "I'll only hurt those who hurt me," she said with finality, her voice strangely unfamiliar in her own ears. "Live and let live, I guess." She continued to stroke Forty-two's dome, though her gaze was set on Thirty-six. "And as for stealing, if its from the wealthy and corrupt, its almost doing the world a favour, really."

Thirty-six bowged at her, dipping slightly, as if in contemplation. The holographic code screen Roxanne had seen Forty-two display the previous day appeared before her. The text ran like lightning across the hologram. "Pause?" Roxanne asked, one eyebrow raised. Thirty-six did not immediately pause its scan, but did soon enough that Roxanne wondered if it had been purposely attempting to locate something for her anyway.

"Moral Code," Roxanne read, her breath catching in her throat. The little bots were almost shockingly brilliant. She was certain they were smarter and more perceptive than many of the people she had known over the years. She poured over the if/then statements, deciphering the code to reveal a set of morals that broke down almost directly into the few statements she had said to Thirty-six. Roxanne directed her gaze to Thirty-six, "This is what he lives by, isn't it?"

The bot dipped forward slightly, a nod of assent.

Roxanne bit her lip. Within a day of setting foot in the villain's house, she'd unknowingly adopted his moral code. What on earth was the world coming to?

She lingered in the room for a little longer, uncertain of what to do with herself. She felt both an intense desire to track down her blue alien and … encourage a repeat, and to hide, because she wasn't certain that she'd even be able to be in his presence without throwing herself at the mercy of his kisses. Roxanne had never been a coward, however, and soon enough she was down the hall. She was still getting used to her stiletto heels but she figured that if she was going to be any sort of villainess, she'd better learn to like them. She tottered slightly in front of the kitchen wall she knew was a hologram, and held her breath as she walked through it.

"Miss Ritchie!" Minion's greeting held a clear note of pleasure, "What perfect timing!"

Roxanne smiled bewilderedly, "For what exactly?"

Megamind appeared from behind a curtained divide, "I was just telling Minion that we might finally have a chance to beta test something before having it fall apart when used on Metro Man."

Roxanne wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Beta test?" she parroted, "Is this about the particle decelerator?"

Megamind nodded, setting the armful of computer parts down on what appeared to be an already crowded worktable. "One of the main sources of," he ground his teeth, "Error, in our plans is the distinct lack of testing of my inventions on living beings." He flashed her a dangerous smile, "And while I fully support scientific testing, I have… objections to animal testing."

Roxanne cast a glance at Minion, who looked terribly disturbed by even the phrase. The fish caught her eyes, "It's inhuman," he said miserably, his fins drooping in unhappiness.

Roxanne nodded slowly. Personally, she simply couldn't imagine being one of the scientists who had to test products on animals. The idea of applying mascara to small fluffy bunnies to test whether the chemicals were safe (or alternatively, would cause infections and blindness) was horrific. The image of leveling an untested gun at one seemed like overkill. "So, you'd rather go straight to human testing," she summarized, setting a critical gaze on Megamind.

He shrugged, "Most of my weapons aren't ultimately lethal."

Roxanne hesitated at that, because it was true. Despite the fact that he was ultimately threatening to destroy Metro Man, very few of his inventions actually had the power to destroy. Those that did, generally did so in fairly straightforward ways. "If that's true," she said carefully, "Then how do you intend to destroy Metro Man with them?"

His green eyes assessed her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "That hasn't been my direct goal, my nosy reporter," Roxanne felt that now familiar shiver run down her spine, "At least, not yet."

Roxanne drew around the workbench, closing some of the distance between them. She regarded him suspiciously, her mind working to decipher his behaviour, "You mean, you've been systematically working out his weaknesses?" His raised eyebrow was all she needed for an answer. She tapped her bottom lip contemplatively, "The bloodykaboom fusion sound generator?"

"Advanced hearing range test."

"Triforce shadow howler monkeybot?"

"Frustration tolerance test."

"Hyperglove compactilizer?"

"Skeletal stress test."

Roxanne tilted her head. "So you know all his weaknesses?"

Megamind shrugged, "Not all. Most." He smiled at her, a wicked thing. "The best one being the one you revealed earlier." Roxanne looked at him in confusion. "Dear Roxanne," he hissed softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking her over to the curtained divide he had appeared from just minutes before. "Just when, exactly, does Metro Man engage in this "down time" you spoke of?"

Roxanne turned an awestruck gaze upon him, a plurality of evil thoughts running through her mind. A smirk curled itself onto her lips slowly. His green eyes focused upon them, licking his lips almost unconsciously. He pulled a cord, and the curtain swept out of the way. Regretfully, Roxanne turned her gaze to the scene he had just revealed. A number of cards, photographs, sketches, and papers hung suspended from the ceiling, twisting ever so slightly in an imperceptible breeze.

"The plan?" Roxanne whispered softly, her eyes riveted on the scrawled equations and diagrams.

"Part of it," he murmured, stepping behind her to wrap his arms around her. She felt his breath ghost over her left ear, "We'll need to do the beta testing first."

Roxanne melted backwards into his embrace, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Being close to him was a terrible temptation. Being held by him, as the two contemplated the plan that would ultimately bring down Metro Man, being a willing and active participant in his plan… it was the fulfillment of every evil daydream that had ever flitted across her mind. The few times she had involuntarily indulged herself in them she had felt horribly dirty and wrong. She'd done her best to dismiss them as the products of Stockholm Syndrome rather than honest desires. The hot showers she'd taken afterward in an attempt to wash them away had left her skin red and over-scrubbed.

Now she indulged freely, fitting her body more closely to his. The skin-tight tank top and yoga pants hugged her curves, and she felt his arms tighten around her as she squirmed just ever so slightly further into his arms. "Temptress," he murmured into her ear, melting her to the core. Somewhere behind them, Roxanne knew Minion was watching in silence. She wondered idly what he thought of all this, as Megamind stepped back, one hand still holding her right wrist. He spun her slowly about, smirking before he began to pull her back to the worktable. "Minion has been extremely busy," he said softly, his voice that evil black silk tone she'd begun to crave. "His extensive skills aren't limited to culinary pursuits," he continued, presenting Roxanne to Minion.

"I knew, after seeing you last night," Minion admitted sheepishly, "That you'd probably be staying with us, and I figured that you would need… well, clothes. And when Sir told me that you were definitely going to be staying, well, I got a little excited." He shyly drew out a large purple box from behind him. "I wanted you to have something…" he trailed off shyly with a shrug.

Roxanne accepted the box, half turning to settle it on the worktable beside them. She raised a curious eyebrow at the alien fish, "Thank you?" she began to say, uncertain of what exactly to expect.

"Open it, please," the fish insisted, both his robot gorilla hands and his tiny spined fins gesturing to go ahead.

Roxanne bit her lip and turned to the deep purple box. Her delicate fingers lifted the top off the box slowly. Her breath caught in her throat, "Oh Minion," she exclaimed softly. Her fingers slipped into the box, running over the buttery soft black leather. She pulled the fabric from the box, revealing curve-hugging black leather pants. She set the pants aside gently, and thrust her hands back into the box. A satiny black off-the-shoulder top emerged, black ribbons that crisscrossed around the waist dangling from the garment. Roxanne sighed softly, she'd never had anything so… lovely and gutsy and sexy. She looked back into the box in confusion. The top followed the pants and Roxanne held a strange, almost rubbery bodysuit in her hands. Which looked about ten sizes too small. "Minion?" she inquired, uncertainty in her voice.

"It stretches," Megamind informed her flatly.

"It's made from a polymer Sir developed years ago. The molecular pattern knits into an extremely flexible, energy-distributing net." Minion paused, "He invented it after that first incident with the dehydration gun. The… the police thought he'd killed the security guard." Minion's voice was small, "I… I thought I'd lost him…"

Roxanne heard Megamind shift awkwardly behind her. "You were shot?" she asked, surprise colouring her voice. She'd never uncovered this fact in her research. He'd always seemed somewhat… impervious to bullet wounds. Or too fast to get caught in gunfire.

Minion sighed, "We were lucky that the prison doctor had insisted on collecting several pints of blood over the previous years, just in case."

Megamind looked away, apparently not wanting to continue the line of thought, uncomfortable under her concentrated gaze. Roxanne swallowed hard, the idea of losing him suddenly unbearable. Right now, he and Minion and the Brainbots were literally all she had in the world. She turned back to Minion, pushing the disturbing thought to the back of her mind, "So this material is?"

"Essentially bullet proof," Minion declared happily, "And since it re-distributes all energy and force types, it offers decent protection from impacts, force blasts, injuries, and even electric shocks."

Roxanne smiled, "Thank you, Minion," she said softly, "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Minion ducked shyly in his bowl. "There's more," he waved her back to the box.

Roxanne stared at the box, realizing with a start that it had a false bottom. She lifted the thin cardboard and gasped in sheer amazement. Speechlessly, she pulled the black leather boots from the box. Roughly knee-high, with pointed kitten heels and straps that crisscrossed the boot from ankle to knee, the boots were a work of art. "They're… they're beautiful," she murmured. She stared helplessly at the fish. "Thank you," she gasped, throwing herself at him with a hug. "This is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Minion seemed stunned, though he lightly patted Roxanne on the back. Sheepish eyes met with his master's over Roxanne's head. "What do I do?" he mouthed. His boss just shrugged, amusement playing across his features.

Roxanne pulled away from Minion, a lump in her throat. She cast a longing glance at the new clothes and the boots (oh, the gorgeous boots). "I need to go try these on," she admitted, grabbing the things up into her arms and disappearing through the holographic wall without a second thought.

She was adapting faster to this life of high technology, crime, and evil far faster than she had ever dreamed possible.