Roxanne didn't count on someone having taken a cell phone video of that scene in the restaurant; especially didn't count on the video being posted online and going viral overnight.
The station was in an uproar when Roxanne got to work; Lisa was in the process of (possibly illegally; no one wanted to ask) trying to take the video down from the site; Karen was yelling at someone on the phone; Xavier was speaking in a terrifyingly calm way to someone else on the phone, and the station manager was red-faced and shouting in a rather unhelpful way.
The whole office went silent when Roxanne walked in, and then everyone started talking to her at once.
"—video without your consent—"
"—Megamind—"
"—goddamn firewalls; I'll give you a FIRE DAMN IT—"
"—scandal! This station has never—"
"—no, I'm telling you, you dimwitted piece of—"
"—ma'am, I need you to listen to what I am saying—"
"—could someone please tell me what's going on?" Roxanne asked.
The problem wasn't really the video, of course. The flirting had been—yes, a little obvious, but certainly not disastrously so.
The real problem was the way people were talking about the video, and how many people were talking about the video.
…clearly something there…
…been saying for years…
…LOOK AT THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER OMG…
"This is my fault," Megamind said (eventually said—the first thing he said when Roxanne locked herself in the bathroom, called him, and told him not to panic but to look at this website, was a fluent, minute-and-a-half long string of profanity).
"Your fault; how could this possibly be your fault?" Roxanne hissed in an undertone.
"I have a program in place," Megamind moaned, "that's supposed to—it deletes any—articles or posts that—might prove damaging to—to my image, or yours, but it goes off of keywords and someone has evidently—this site is a—they've noticed the program, I think, because they aren't using any of the keywords; this site—there are posts about us going back years, and none of them have the keywords; these people—"
"Is that why they've written our names like that sometimes, with some of the letters censored out?"
"Yes," Megamind said, "fuckfuckfuck yes—god damn it—should have been paying more attention, should have—and now they're using the 'Roxanne Ritchi, seeking the truth' thing to label their—conspiracy theory—and—and now people just searching for information on your actual broadcasts about this 'seeking the truth' thing are ending up on this fucking website that's—I—I am going to burn this website to the ground—"
"No!" Roxanne said, thinking quickly, "no, you can't; that'll make it worse; you'll get even more people thinking that there's—something to hide—"
"There is something to—!"
"Give me a second," Roxanne said, "just—I'm thinking, all right?"
Megamind, to her surprise, obediently went silent.
"Okay," Roxanne said after a moment of furious thought. "Okay. This is—not a perfect solution, but—I think KCMP is going to have to show the clip."
"What? How the hell is that going to—"
"Hiding in plain sight," Roxanne said. "Every other station is going to be showing it; me refusing to let them show it here just makes it look suspicious. We're going to show the clip and I'm going to act like it's no big deal. And then we are going to distract the fuck out of everyone, all right?"
"With what?" Megamind asked, sounding desperate to be convinced.
"We're going to start rumors of Wayne's retirement early," Roxanne said. "I'm going to do an interview with Wayne about it today. Probably live. People always find live broadcasts more exciting, more—convincing. I will try to keep the conversation away from anything that might be upsetting to you, but obviously I can't promise—"
"I trust you," Megamind said, voice still tight and sort of angry. "Do what you have to."
Roxanne closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the wall.
I trust you, god, no fucking pressure there.
How the hell was she going to—
Stop.
You can do this, Roxanne.
You can do this. Breathe.
"Okay," she said, "and after the interview airs, I need you to be ready with—what did Lisa call them?—sock-puppets."
"—uh?" Megamind said, sounding baffled. "Sock—sock puppets? What does—improve-isational clothing-based theatre have to do with anything?"
"Not sock-puppet sock-puppets," Roxanne said, laughing in a startled way. "The—sock-puppets like when one person comes up with several online accounts and acts like they're different people so they can—have a conversation, make people think that it's not just them—"
"Oh!" Megamind said, and she could hear a surprised laugh in his voice, too. "Okay, that makes a lot more—I can do the online sock-puppeting about the retirement rumors, yes."
"Okay, good," Roxanne said, pressing her phone close to her ear, wishing he was here with her so she could put her arms around him instead. "Go ahead and start that now—and if you could do something fancy with—maybe make it look like people have been talking about him retiring for a while? And then the discussion really needs to explode after the interview airs."
"Yes, I can do that," Megamind said. "I will do that." He gave a shaky exhale. "Tell me not to panic."
"You don't need to panic," Roxanne told him (and herself, too, honestly). "We can deal with this."
"Okay," Megamind said. "Okay, I am on the—improve-isational internet theatre now. No panicking."
"No panicking," Roxanne said. "I'm—with you," she added. "And I'll see you tonight."
"So, Wayne," Roxanne said, "what are your thoughts about the recently revealed information on Metro City's own supervillain?"
(she was careful to put the stress on Wayne's name—she always called him Metro Man during her broadcasts before—and to keep the word supervillain entirely free from anything resembling mockery.)
(Wayne was wearing civilian clothes, too, at her instruction, something they'd never done during an interview before)
"Well, Roxy—Roxanne," Wayne said, with that earnest gee-shucks-I'm-just-so-trustworthy expression, "I've always thought there was more to Megamind than there seemed. It's good to know that I was right."
"You mentioned once that the two of you went to school together," Roxanne said, "tell me, has that affected your view of him?"
An expression of discomfort crossed Wayne's face.
"Er—" he said, "—well, I have known him a long time—we did go to school together."
"Yes," Roxanne said, making her mouth smile, "you'll have to tell us about that sometime."
Wayne briefly looked even more uncomfortable, then smiled a Metro Man sort of smile.
"Sure, Rox—Roxanne. Hey," he added, as they'd agreed, "I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry about all the trouble you've been having with that video and the rumors."
"Oh," Roxanne said with a wry, unconcerned laugh, "thank you. That has been a little uncomfortable, yes."
(Understatement of the fucking century. Perfect dismissive tone; well done, Roxanne.)
"But," Roxanne went, "speaking of rumors, tell me, Wayne—is there any truth to rumors of your upcoming retirement?"
(Megamind would have gotten the rumors started by now, but even if he hadn't this interview would probably be enough to get them going.)
Wayne scratched the back of his neck.
"Well, I mean," he said, "I've always planned to retire someday, you know? I wouldn't want to say I've got any immediate plans, but—there's just so much I still want to do, so many things I still want to experience, that I feel like I haven't been able to because of the—demands of being Metro Man."
"Can you give me an example?" Roxanne asked.
"Oh," Wayne said, "well, I've—I'd really like to have a shot at romance someday. It's kinda hard trying to date someone when you keep getting called away in the middle of everything…"
"Or when you keep getting kidnapped," Roxanne put in.
Wayne laughed.
"Yeah, I guess you do know how it is," he said.
"And it can't have been easy for you," Roxanne said, "trying to date when everybody assumed that you and I were together! It's certainly been difficult for me."
(She had insisted they include this part; Wayne had told her they could pretend to be together a little while longer, lend credence to the 'of course she's not with Megamind, how ridiculous' approach she'd decided on. And that probably, honestly, would have been the smarter choice, but Roxanne—could not stand it any longer, could not stand another moment of—no. She was done with that. Damn the torpedoes; full speed ahead.)
(Megamind had said do what you have to and Roxanne needed to do this, needed to do it so she could breathe again, so she could feel as if people were looking at her and seeing her, not just 'Metro Man's girlfriend'.)
(God, this superhero/supervillain/damsel-presumed-girlfriend thing had really fucked up all three of them, hadn't it?)
Wayne laughed again.
"Oh, man," he said. "You know, I never really understood that rumor?"
"Well," Roxanne said, "I think there's this—temptation to think about things in the simplest manner. Superhero, damsel, supervillain—there's a certain—pattern that we expect from that, isn't there?"
"Huh," Wayne said, "I never really thought about it like that before."
"—and so," Roxanne continued, "there's this—tendency to see just the pattern, to stop seeing the people, the real people involved, to try to force the people to fit the pattern your mind expects."
She looked at Wayne, giving him a moment to interject something if he wanted, but he just nodded. She went on:
"—but the thing is, we are not the pattern. We're more than that. Like you said, like I've said, like all of the people I've been interviewing have said, there's more to Megamind than supervillany, right? And I am not just some damsel in distress. And you—Wayne Scott—you're more than just Metro Man."
Wayne cleared his throat, eyes bright.
"Yeah," he said, "yeah, I am."
"Honestly," Roxanne said, "I could almost be happy about this weird rumor about me and Megamind, even if it is—completely off base, because at least it means people have started questioning the pattern, started seeing us as people."
"That's a good way of looking at it," Wayne said.
"So how about you?" Roxanne said. "Why don't you tell the viewers a little bit about Wayne Scott, the person?"
Wayne took a breath.
"Well," he said, "I've always been really interested in music…"
"So," Wayne said, turning his sandwich around in his hands.
"So," Roxanne said, in a prompting kind of way.
Wayne had asked, after they finished taping his interview, if they could get something for lunch. Roxanne had been startled, but had agreed. Katie and Palak had gone on to the station with subs for what everyone at the station had, after the way the group had rallied around Roxanne this morning, started referring to, in a way that was only half joking, as 'Roxanne's Team': Karen, Lisa, Xavier, Palak, Connie, and Katie.
On the park bench, Roxanne waited. Wayne clearly wanted to talk, but he just kept staring at his sandwich.
Roxanne took a bite of her own sandwich. She might as well eat while Wayne worked himself up to say—whatever it was he wanted to say.
"So," Wayne said again, "you and Megamind."
Roxanne lowered her sandwich slowly.
"Yes?" she said in a dangerous way. "Are you planning on voicing your objection again?"
Wayne looked up from his sandwich, frowning.
"What?" he said, and then his eyes went wide. "Oh! No, I was—oh, man, he's right, I really am bad at this—"
"At what?" Roxanne asked.
"Friends," Wayne said, "I—I've been thinking and—well, he said you were supposed to show interest in things that are important to them! And—and he's—clearly something that's important to you…"
"Oh," Roxanne said.
"So—" Wayne said, looking uncomfortable, "—so he's good, then? You guys are good? Everything is good?"
And there were—so many ways to answer that.
He doesn't love me back and my heart hurts and nothing is good, things are not good, I want to cry and I'm terrified and—
"Yeah," Roxanne said. "Everything is fine."
"Good, good," Wayne said, "good—" he crammed his sandwich into his mouth in what appeared to be an attempt to stop talking, and took a bite.
"Yeah," Roxanne said, and took another bite of sandwich. "Good."
"—and, that's the last measurement, ma-am—Miss. Miss Ritchi," Minion said, throwing the tape measure over the shoulder of his robot suit.
"Thanks, Minion," Roxanne said. "I really appreciate it."
"Of course," Minion said. "I can show you some designs later—tomorrow, after I've had a chance to—and that way you can tell me if you don't—like what I've come up with."
"I'd love to see your designs," Roxanne said, "but I'm sure any outfit you come up with will be great."
Minion fluttered in the glass headpiece of the suit in a pleased fashion.
"Oh, ma'am, you're much too—" Minion cut himself off, a hesitant expression coming over his face.
Roxanne looked at him questioningly.
"Ah," he said, "—Miss Ritchi—have you—have you and Sir—talked?"
Roxanne, putting her suit jacket back on, suppressed a wince.
"Talked?" she said, playing for time.
"Because you should really—you should really do that. I think." Minion said. "You—"
"Aren't you done yet?" Megamind called loudly from the other side of the curtain. "Come on, for Evil's sake, how long does it take to measure someone?"
Minion rolled his eyes and Roxanne pulled the curtain aside.
"Here, try this!" Megamind said, and pushed something into her hands.
Roxanne looked down and blinked. It was—
It was a gun, a lot like the one Megamind carried, but slightly smaller, with silver filigree, instead of copper.
Roxanne curled her fingers around the grip.
It fit her hand perfectly.
"You—you made me a de-gun?" she asked incredulously.
"I finished it today," Megamind said, gloved fingers twisting together. "The sock-puppeting wasn't sufficiently distracting and I needed something to do with my hands and you said you wanted one, and—"
"—oh my god, this is the best gift ever," Roxanne said, heart flipping over and over.
"—I'll go get some snacks!" Minion said, and fairly bolted from the room.
"…you really like it?" Megamind asked, voice uncertain. "I—I gave you the same settings as mine; I wasn't sure if that would—"
"Show me how to use all of them," Roxanne said, too excited about her space gun (fuck yeah she had a ray gun now), too even let the fact that she was alone with Megamind get—really awkward.
(Space guns made everything better, she thought.)
When Minion came back in fifteen minutes later—snacks, right, uh-huh, reeeeal subtle, Minion—Roxanne and Megamind were engaged in gluing various things to the walls with the de-coupage setting of the de-gun and snickering like children.
Minion gave Roxanne a reproachful look that said, quite clearly, I told you to talk to him, but—oh, they'd already decided to move up the date of the final part of the plan in response to that video and having to spread the rumors about Wayne's retirement early, and so they'd already talked about everything important, hadn't they?
The way she wanted to wrap her arms around him and just—lean together, like that, and breathe, and feel calm and safe and—that. That wasn't important.
(The stupid, yearning ache in her heart was not important.)
The sun was setting when she left the Lair, red-gold light and deep blue shadows, and Roxanne sat alone in the silence of her car for several moments without starting the engine and told herself that she wasn't going to cry.
Her phone rang as she was pulling away from the Lair; she answered it without looking at who was calling, hoping, hoping, desperately hoping that Megamind had decided to call her and tell her to come back—
"Roxanne Rachel Ritchi," said the voice on the other end of the line, "have you lost your mind?"
"Hello, mother," Roxanne said, then silently mouthed fuck fuck FUCK. "How are you?"
(God fucking damn it, this was what Roxanne got for not screening her damn calls.)
"I am extremely concerned," her mother said, "that's how I am! I have been watching these latest 'interviews' of yours, and I am very, very worried."
"I didn't think you got the KCMP news channel there," Roxanne said.
"We don't," her mother said, "I've been watching them online. Don't change the subject."
"I wasn't changing the subject," Roxanne lied, fighting the urge to slam her head against the steering wheel.
(Why, why had she answered the phone without looking?)
"Roxanne, tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing."
"What do you think I'm doing?" Roxanne asked in a tight voice as she made an illegal U-turn.
"I think—and I am desperately hoping that I'm wrong—I think that you are throwing yourself at the criminal, mentally-unstable alien who has been threatening your life for ten damn years!"
(Mentally unstable—Megamind on the phone I don't like panicking; it's unpleasant and counterproductive.)
"For god's sake, Roxanne, these interviews are practically a come-on; what are you going to do if he decides to take you up on the offer? Men like that don't know how to take no for an answer."
(Megamind looking up at her from the floor of the Lair, eyes wide and almost frightened you said stop)
(Roxanne was fairly certain that no was the only answer Megamind did know how to take)
"Megamind isn't like that, mother," Roxanne snapped. "He's not going to hurt me; he's never hurt me."
(Megamind pressing the gun he'd made her into her hands, his fingers twisting nervously you really like it?)
"He points guns at your head!" her mother said, voice rising. "He ties you up and tries to—blow you up with bombs and announces he's going to kill you and he laughs about it, Roxanne—why the hell you won't file a restraining order, I'll never understand—"
"If he really wanted to kill me, he would have killed me a long time ago," Roxanne said. "Do we really have to go through this again?"
—god, she was so tired of this fight; they'd had it so many times. The last time had been two weeks ago, the last time her mother called.
"—just come home, Roxanne, honey, please; it isn't safe there—"
Roxanne pulled the van sharply to the curb in front of the Lair and slammed the car into park.
"I am home!" Roxanne said. "This is my home, mother; I have a life here; I have a job here; I live here, and for the last time, I am not going to uproot my entire life to move back to Wisconsin with you. For fuck's sake, I am thirty goddamn years old! When the hell are you going to stop treating me like I'm some—silly little teenage girl?"
"Whenever you stop acting like one! Oh, Roxanne," her mother said, tone changing, "oh, Roxanne, I'm sorry."
Roxanne gritted her teeth, tried to force the words that's okay, mother, through her lips.
"I've failed you," her mother continued. "I've failed you as a parent, and I'm so sorry for that. I've turned you into this—victim."
"I am not a victim," Roxanne snarled.
"—this easy target for the wrong sort of attention," her mother went on. "People like him see that and they take advantage of it. I should have been there more for you, when you were growing up; I should have explained; your father walking out on us like that couldn't have helped, but this is on me; it is; I do know that."
"I'm done with this conversation," Roxanne said. "I'm not listening to this, mother; I have to go."
"Please tell me you're not already sleeping with him," her mother begged.
"—I said I'm done with this conversation! I'm not going to answer that; it isn't any of your business!"
"Roxanne, you need to think about what you're doing!" her mother said. "He is dangerous. Did he tell you that you're special to him? Did he tell you that he loves you? He is lying; men like him, they're always lying when they say things like that. Men like that aren't capable of love."
Roxanne was shaking, shaking with rage and unshed tears. She clung to her phone, to the steering wheel, fixed her eyes blindly on the dashboard.
"Don't you dare," she said, low and furious. "Don't you dare say he's not capable of love. You don't even know him. You don't know how he is with Minion. They talk to each other like family—no, you know what, not like family—like how family is supposed to be. You don't know how he is with the brainbots—the way he pets them and plays with them and makes over them when they're hurt. He loves those robots more than most people are able to love something made of flesh and blood. He loves this city; you said you've seen the interviews, haven't you been paying attention? He cares so much about the people of this city, although, to be brutally honest, I'm not really sure why, since pretty much all we've ever done is fuck him over endlessly! And yet! He still loves this city! So don't you dare say Megamind's not capable of love."
"Roxanne—"
"But you are right about one thing, mother," Roxanne said, "he doesn't love me. So thanks. Thanks for that. This has been a really great talk."
"He isn't even human, Roxanne; he isn't worth—"
"Not human is not the same thing as less than human," Roxanne said, knuckles going white on the steering wheel. "It is—that kind of utter bullshit that has—god, this planet has—just completely—we, humans, the people of this planet? Do you know what we've done? We have taken the most intelligent, kindest, genuinely good man that—do not interrupt me; I am talking; you don't get to talk now—we have taken the most genuinely good man that I have ever met, and we have made him hate himself. We have made him think that he's evil, that he's not worth—anything, that what he wants is irrelevant, because he 'isn't even human'—he would agree with you about this, and it makes me want to scream—"
"He's done something to you, Roxanne, he's done something to your brain, some sort of mind control—"
Roxanne laughed, her laughter like broken glass in her throat.
"If you don't know that this is me saying this," Roxanne said, "then I guess you don't really know me."
"You're going to get yourself killed!" her mother cried. "You're going to get yourself killed; he's going to kill you and they're going to call me down to the morgue to identify my daughter's body and—"
"That's fucking nonsense," Roxanne said flatly, "but—tell you what, if that happens, please feel free to tell my corpse 'I told you so.'"
She slammed the phone shut, powered it down entirely, and tossed it in the passenger seat.
And then she got out of the car and strode purposefully back into the Lair.
...to be continued.
notes: thank you to everyone reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it.