"So the first thing that you should understand is what the city was like before I began my career," Megamind said. "The criminal side of things and the—not exactly criminal but—let's call it morally questionable side of things. I know you lived here as a child, but I don't know how much of that you would have known about—" He glanced at her inquiringly.
"A little," Roxanne said, "My dad worked as a public defender and he'd talk about that sometimes. But like I told you, he—left—when I was pretty young."
"All right," Megamind said, "well, crime in Metrocity was not particularly organized at that time. You had one true old-fashioned gangster, who had been recently convicted—Lou Nowicki."
Megamind smiled reminiscently.
"I learned a lot from Uncle Lou," he continued, "Though we didn't exactly see eye to eye in terms of scope of vision. He accused me once of trying to make crime into some kind of public service. I don't think he realized how right he actually was. He tried to pull a double cross on me, a few years ago—an attempted coup, I suppose you could call it."
He gave a short laugh.
"Really, he did me a favor," he said, "when word got out that I'd 'killed' Lou Nowicki, most people in the criminal underworld decided that they'd be better off not messing with me. He lives in Florida now," Megamind said, glancing at Roxanne with a wry smile. "I do have some experience with helping people fake their deaths. Not that Wayne would know that, of course.
"So—" Megamind continued, "you had Uncle Lou, and Uncle Lou's people—some of them still functioning even with Uncle Lou incarcerated. And you had a good number of your basic territorial gangs; and also various assorted criminals ranging from small-time to medium-time, unaffiliated with the gangs. In addition to all that, you had a handful of superpowered villains—again, not affiliated with anyone—who caused a lot of trouble to everyone. There was, in short, a lot of crime. Lots of drugs, lots of guns, lots of violence. A lot of very—disorganized crime."
"Yeah," Roxanne said, "that was one of the reasons my mother decided to move back to Wisconsin when I was twelve—she was always going on about how dangerous it was, here. She's still always going on about how dangerous it is here, actually," she added. "Won't listen to any of the statistics; won't listen to me."
She made a face and Megamind gave her a look of sympathy. Roxanne gave him a smile that was half grimace and gestured for him to continue.
"So," Megamind said, "that was the actual criminal side of things, before I started. The morally questionable side—back when you and I were children, the factories in the industrial section of the city—they mostly they made cars, and parts for cars—those were still in the process of closing down, leading to a spike in unemployment."
"I do remember some of that," Roxanne said, frowning. "I remember people were angry."
"Yes," Megamind said, "people were angry. Real estate values went down dramatically during this time, allowing large chunks of the business and residential portions of the city to be bought up by one wealthy family."
"The Scotts?"
"The Scotts. Like I said," Megamind continued, "this was already underway when Wayne and I both landed here—we're from the same star system, actually; we landed at the same time, in pods."
"So Wayne is an alien!" Roxanne said, "I mean, I always figured he might be, but everybody acts so cagey about it! Even when I asked him straight out, in interviews, he always dodged the question."
"Yes," Megamind said, "I imagine that's probably down to—PR concerns, for one thing, and probably—ah—safety? Superpowered humans are definitely more acceptable to the general public; you know that. But I would—by now, he must know I wasn't lying when I—back in shool, I told him about our planets. He didn't believe me then, and that—that whole conversation went rather badly, but surely, by now—"
"Maybe we'd better ask him, the next time we see him," Roxanne suggested.
"—yes," Megamind said, "Well—"
He waved one hand in a dismissive gesture.
"Anyway," he continued, "with the factories closed, lots of people were left without jobs. And then—the Scotts opened a series of brand new factories, on the other side of town. Scott Technology. Has it ever struck you as odd, Roxanne, that abrupt—technological leap forward? A corporation that historically manufactures cars—and then suddenly they're producing engines for airplanes better than any other engines on the planet, amazingly innovative computer tech—"
"You think they used Wayne's pod," Roxanne said, "you think they reverse engineered the tech from the pod."
"I know they did," Megamind said. "I broke in and saw it. Well—as far as I'm concerned, the Scotts—and humanity—are welcome to the tech from Wayne's pod; it's certainly not mine; it's not even from my planet and there's no sense in letting it just go to waste. My problem with Scott Technology was the fact that they were paying their employees a wage so low it should have been criminal. And the Scotts, furthermore—"
"—owned half of the city," Roxanne said, understanding dawning visibly in her expression. "All those people that worked for them—they owned their houses, didn't they?"
"Their houses, their apartments—tenements is probably more accurate. Pay the people just enough money for them to pay their rent—back to you—and to keep them alive and working—for you…"
"While you profit off the goods that they produce," Roxanne finished.
"Exactly," Megamind said, "meanwhile, the city is falling apart, so it's time to add in some gentrification, to the tune of wouldn't this be a nice neighborhood if it didn't have so many poor people living in it, followed by a rousing chorus of yes especially since so few of them are white."
"God damn."
"The Scotts ran this town, Roxanne," Megamind said, "they ran this town and they ran it straight into the ground. And I decided that I was going to take it away from them and fix it. So—the first step was to gain control of what they didn't own: the criminal underworld. Uncle Lou was a very valuable asset, when I was first starting out, but I had to be careful how I used him—had to be sure that everyone understood who was really in charge."
"Did you start calling yourself the Overlord, then?" Roxanne asked, lying down and propping herself up on one elbow, her hand beneath her chin.
Megamind laughed.
"I did, actually. Uncle Lou and the others thought I was crazy—I suppose I probably was. I mean, I was sixteen and nobody even knew who I was—you make a claim like that, and you're going to get laughed at and then somebody's going to decide that you need taught a lesson."
He shrugged.
"Well, I'm used to being laughed at, but—" he tilted his head and regarded Roxanne thoughtfully, "—you've never really seen me fight, have you?"
Roxanne laughed.
"What are you talking about? I've seen you fight Metro Man probably a thousand times!"
"Not that," Megamind said, waving a dismissive hand, "that's practically stage fighting by now. I meant—well, anyway, I'm very good at it."
Roxanne looked him up and down, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Yes," she murmured, "yes, you'd have to be, wouldn't you?"
Megamind gave her a wry half smile.
"Yes," he said.
He laughed.
"I had a whole—introductory speech that I did, actually," he said. "I'd come in and they'd say 'who the hell are you?' and then I'd say—"
He straightened his spine and looked down his nose at Roxanne with a sneer.
"My name is Megamind. But you may call me Overlord." He smirked, still looking down his nose at her. "I will, however, permit you to address me as Sir, if you wish. Boss is also acceptable."
He laughed, dropping the pose.
"You did this as a sixteen year old?" Roxanne asked incredulously. "How are you still alive?"
Megamind shrugged.
"I told you," he said, "I'm good at fighting. And I had Minion and the de-gun—remember, no one had seen the de-gun in action before at that point in time, so the de-gun was actually was a pretty big deal. And I had backup from Lou's people. I did take precautions, as well—my suit; the design wasn't as complex in those days, but even then, it functioned as armor. And—tell me, Miss Ritchi, why do you think I put spikes on the things that I wear?"
Roxanne raised her eyebrows.
"To look cool?" she asked teasingly.
"And I do look very cool in them," Megamind agreed, with all of the old supervillain bravado—Roxanne laughed— "but I'll tell you a secret about my spikes, my sweet, sarcastic Miss Ritchi—they exert a forcefield with enough energy to stop a bullet."
Roxanne's mouth fell open. Megamind looked at her expression with shy gratification. God, Roxanne looking at him like she was impressed—he could never get enough of that expression on her face.
"I created the first prototype in shool," he continued, "a helmet to wear when we played dodgeball."
Roxanne blinked.
"You needed a bullet-stopping helmet to play—how the hell did you play dodgeball at your school?"
Megamind made a face.
"—ah," Roxanne said flatly, a wealth of understanding in her voice.
"—anyway," Megamind said, "I—gradually, of course—gained control and began organizing crime in Metrocity. Now, crime—profitable crime, can be divided into three main categories." He ticked them off on his fingers, "Theft, illegal sales, and illegal intermediary movements of money or goods. Murder, of course, can be profitable, but only usually to the murderer themselves, and, usually, only once or twice. It's hard to make a business out of murder. Though—there are people in Metrocity who kill for money."
He hesitated, but Roxanne didn't say anything, just nodded in comprehension.
"Well," Megamind said, "as I said, profitable crime can be divided up into three categories. The first is theft. This includes burglary, mugging, grand theft auto, robbery, pickpocketing, forgery, and so on.
"Under my leadership, all citizens of Metrocity choosing to engage in any kind of theft are required to register with one of the city's six official gangs, and to give a portion of any money they make through illegal means to the gangs.
"This money is then used by the gangs to help take care of people and public property in their territory. All gangs are required to keep accurate financial records. A small amount of the money is sent to me as Overlord— people would be suspicious if I didn't seem to be profiting noticeably from my place at the head of the underworld.
"White collar criminals are also expected to register with the gangs, although most of them aren't lucky enough to know the rules before they commit their crimes. I can't tell you how many smug rich idiots I've had to sit down and explain things to."
Roxanne laughed.
"You scare the shit out of them, didn't you?" she asked.
"You may not have ever found me frightening, Miss Ritchi," Megamind said, with a sharp, crooked smile, "but I assure you, most people do not have your courage."
"Do you threaten to throw them to the alligators?" she asked.
"Ha! I never needed to. Most people aren't as hard to impress as you. The alligators and deathtraps were all for you, my dear."
Roxanne felt herself flush, wondering if the warm glow spreading through her was due to how weirdly flattered she was by Megamind saying that his alligators and deathtraps had only been for her—or if it was more due to hearing him call her my dear.
He'd never used any terms of endearment for her before. The way he called her Miss Ritchi sometimes was almost an endearment, and sometimes he said my dear Miss Ritchi, but he'd never—he'd never actually called her—
Megamind, no doubt completely unaware of her internal agitation, was still talking.
"The amount that registered thieves are required to give to their gang depends on their overall income, as well—the more illegal money you make, the higher percentage you're required to give. You should see their faces when they hear about that!"
He laughed, and Roxanne laughed, too, telling herself she needed to calm down and not make a big deal out of this. If she wanted him to ever call her my dear again, she needed to not be weird about it.
"So that's theft," Megamind said. "The next category is illegal sales. This includes drugs, guns, and sex work. The city's sex workers were among my first and best allies when I was attempting to take control of the underworld—they had the most to gain, you see, from the new way of doing business. You know Psycho Delic?"
"Yeah, of course," Roxanne said, blinking a little at the sudden change of subject, "minor villain; psychoactive smoke powers with various different effects, purple skin, walks with a cane. He's involved in the drug trade, isn't he?"
"He is now," Megamind said. "In the old days, he mostly kept brothels. I threw him out the window of one."
Roxanne felt her eyes go wide.
"He lived, obviously," Megamind said, "it wasn't a very high window. And it was what he used to do to the women under his control when they displeased him. They all seemed to think that his own defenestration was only fair payback. Sex work in Metrocity now functions in a way similar to theft, but there's only one registry, and it's run by a woman called Madame La Roux. Exotic dancers are encouraged to register, but not required; a good portion of them do end up registering because of the benefits—"
"Benefits?"
"The Sex Workers Association has regulations for fair wages and treatment. The Association provides free—mandatory—health screenings to members, as well as birth control options, healthcare—especially healthcare pertaining to occupational hazards: pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases, personal injuries, and so on. And during times when members find themselves unable to work, the Associate provides financial support. There's also a retirement fund. And the Association keeps a superpowered villain of their own employed—Hot Flash—along with Hot Flash's thugs. Any customer mistreating a member of the Association is taken care of, so to speak, by Hot Flash."
"And the members pay into the Association's funds," Roxanne said, "like registered thieves pay into the gangs?"
"Exactly!" Megamind said, "Exactly, yes; and the amount they're required to give depends on their income, just like for thieves. The Association isn't required to give me as large a portion of their profits, however; what I mostly get from them is information. Which public officials are cheating on their wives or husbands; what members of the police force are open to bribes, and so forth. Blackmail material—always good to have on hand."
"Is that where you get most of your information?" Roxanne asked.
"Well—not most, but certainly a good portion," Megamind said. "I also employ various spies in different gangs, the brainbot patrols bring back information, and the city's homeless population has been especially eager to help since the—the thing with the hostile architecture—that was a—a rather pleasant surprise, really; I hadn't expected—"
He shook his head.
"So, that's the Sex Workers Association. Then there's the gun and drug trades—those are a little more complicated, especially the drug trade. The actual illegal sales of guns and drugs are handled by dealers that, like thieves, register with the gangs."
Roxanne nodded her understanding.
"Drug manufacturers," Megamind continued, "are also required to register with the gangs, and they have to meet workplace safety requirements and purity standards—the gangs do regular inspections, and so do I."
"Do you give them prior warning?" Roxanne asked, "Or are they surprise inspections?"
"Both," he said. "Now, when the drugs are gotten from outside the city; when they're smuggled in instead of made here, they're mostly brought in at certain official smuggling points—guns are smuggled the same way. Again, anyone wishing to smuggle in drugs should already be registered with a gang, and even if they're planning on doing all the selling themselves, they still have to pass purity standards. Even if they're bringing the drugs into the city without going through the official smuggling points, they are still required to notify their gang and submit to purity testing.
"Failure to comply has severe penalties, especially if, after they're caught, the drugs they're selling turn out to not pass the purity tests. Gangs mostly handle infractions in their own territories, and if the person selling the non-regulation drugs crosses over into more than one territory, the gangs know I expect them to work together to deal with it. They're also to notify me when infractions occur."
"How is Psycho Delic involved in the drug trade, if the gangs handle most of it?" Roxanne asked.
"Psycho's is a licensed dealer, but he's also a manufacturer; he uses his smoke to make custom drugs and drug mixes. A while back, he wanted to get big into producing and smuggling his custom smoke mixes out of Metrocity, but I dissuaded him."
Roxanne raised her eyebrow.
"Did you throw him out of a window again?"
Megamind laughed.
"No, there was—remarkably very little violence involved in that particular conversation! It—really it was mostly me pointing out that using his smoke powers requires effort on his part, that his business associates outside the city would demand bigger and bigger batches from him as demand increased exponentially—because most of his smoke mixes are extremely addictive—and that he would eventually end up overtasking his powers. I also pointed out that he'd be bringing himself and his powers to the attention of—let us say—scientifically-minded, unscrupulous people. If they came for him at a moment when he'd overtasked his powers—and they would come then; that's when they always come for people like us: when we're vulnerable—then he would probably wind up in an underground lab for the rest of his life.
"Besides, as I told him, he can make plenty of money with much less effort by deliberately keeping the supply low. Psycho's custom smoke mixes are a luxury item now; they're a status symbol, and they cost you a correspondingly large amount of money."
"Did you do that on purpose?" Roxanne asked, narrowing her eyes at Megamind, "Because of how addictive and dangerous they are?"
Megamind gave her an affectionate half-smile.
"You always did understand the way my mind works, Roxanne," he said.
Roxanne felt herself blush, almost as much as she had when he'd called her my dear.
"Why do you have so many things running through the gangs?" Roxanne asked, hoping Megamind hadn't noticed her blushing. "Why not keep everything separate, like with the Sex Workers Association?"
"The idea," Megamind explained, "is to give the gangs a sense of responsibility for their territory, and for the city at large. It allows them to feel pride in their work, in the way that their Overlord trusts them to manage their section of the empire. You're always going to get gangs, in a city, but this way they are held accountable for their actions."
"And you keep the Association separate from the gangs because—"
"Sex work," Megamind said, "is usually viewed—even by other people involved in criminal activities, sex work is often viewed as demeaning, and sex workers as—somehow less worthy of respect than other people. Not in Metrocity, though," he said, shaking his head. "Keeping the Association separate gives them power; it makes it very clear that they are absolutely worthy of respect; it demands that the other members of the underworld treat them accordingly. And it's about—it's about making sure nobody owns anybody else in my city. All members of the Association, even those that work at a club or brothel, have the right to refuse service to anyone, at any time, and for any reason—or for no reason at all. That's essential."
Roxanne reached out and squeezed Megamind's hand; he looked surprised at the move.
"How is it," she asked, "that you understand all this—but you never found out so many things about sex?"
Megamind blinked at her hand on his, then looked at her face.
"Well, I—" he said, "I never—we never—talked shop; I never asked about their—about the details of their work; there wasn't any—there wasn't any reason for me to do that."
He looked worried, now, as though he was afraid she disapproved, somehow, so Roxanne gave his hand another reassuring squeeze and then picked it up and pressed a quick kiss to the center of his palm.
"What about the sale of stolen items?" she asked.
"Oh!" Megamind said, looking up from their joined hands, "—stolen—stolen items are re-sold by licensed fences; that registry is run by a man called Big Jack Cartwright. I set it up—I set that up like that because—while it is important to give the gangs responsibility, it's also important to make sure that no one single group has too much power. Since thieves are run through the gangs, fences are separate; they're welcome to work with any thieves from any gangs they want. Checks and balances."
Roxanne laced her fingers with Megamind's and moved a little closer to him, so that her arm was draped over his leg, their joined hands resting comfortably on his knee, her other arm curled beneath her head so that she could look up at his face.
"I also—I also try to play the different groups off of one another, to a certain extent," Megamind said, "the goal—I want them to work together, to be on friendly terms, but— A certain level of mutual suspicion between all of the different groups helps to prevent them from banding together to overthrow me."
"Makes sense," Roxanne said.
Megamind gave her a half smile.
"Although—if they did manage to band together to overthrow me, it might be a sign that the city had finally started functioning fully," Megamind said, "I did consider that. But—"
He sighed, and rubbed at his face tiredly with his free hand.
"But I'm afraid that they'd just end up splintering after they got rid of me. People are so—they'll work together on a single goal, but when the goal is accomplished, they inevitably start squabbling! It's maddening."
Megamind made a face and waved his hand.
"So," he said, "That's illegal sales. Next it's—illegal intermediary movements of money and goods. We've already talked about smuggling—and about fencing, which is really actually sort of somewhere in between illegal sales and illegal intermediary movements—so what's left is money laundering and illegal gambling.
"Most of the money laundering in Metrocity is handled by a woman who goes by the name of Mrs. Palmer. She heads up a conglomerate of discreet accountants—these accountants are actually employed at various legitimate firms throughout the city; by spreading the illegal activity out, Mrs. Palmer is able to avoid undue scrutiny of any one specific firm. I do my own money laundering, though. Mrs. Palmer and I have had a few disagreements about that over the years, but I have explained to her that I believe it is important, as Overlord, to keep myself slightly aloof from the ordinary criminal population of Metrocity, lest people get ideas."
Megamind shot Roxanne a conspiratorial smile.
"Also," he said, "I just flat-out don't trust people."
Roxanne smiled back at him, tightening her fingers around his slightly.
(He'd said he trusted her, though. She felt a fierce sort of possessive pride at the remembrance of that.)
"So! Gambling," Megamind said. "Gambling is organized differently from other forms of crime, here; bookies mostly work in groups—one group handles bets at the Wolverines stadium, there's another group at the hockey arena, another at the football stadium and—you have a question?"
"Oh!" Roxanne said. "Well, it's not about gambling, really, but you mentioning all the sports made me think of it—ticket scalping? Is that—you probably don't have them working with the groups of bookies, right? There wouldn't be any real reason to."
Megamind smiled at her.
"And what do you think is the most logical place for ticket scalping in the empire's organizational structure, Roxanne?" he asked, looking eagerly expectant.
Roxanne frowned thoughtfully.
"Well—they're technically illegal sales, right? But I can't imagine that—I can't imagine that there are enough people making a—significant enough amount of money just doing ticket scalping alone…I can't imagine enough people having ticket scalping as their only or even as their main source of income to warrant a ticket scalping union. I would think they would—mostly have to be people with other jobs, either illegal, or legal. So I'd say the best way to run them would be through the gangs, too."
Megamind's smile widened.
"And that's what I do," he said.
"It seems like you've got a lot of varied types of people being gang members," Roxanne said, "People who normally wouldn't gravitate towards being part of gangs."
"Oh, yes, definitely!" Megamind agreed. "And really, I think that's helped to—integrate the gangs into the fabric of the city. And it makes the members who come from the usual gang demographic feel—respected by their fellow citizens in a way that doesn't relate directly to violence, do you know what I…? A respect that—doesn't come from force, but from—establishing them as leaders through their intelligence and problem-solving abilities. Because I do make very, very sure that, although there are gang members from different social and economic backgrounds, the actual leaders of the gangs come from the classic gang member demographic. I've never wanted the gangs to feel as if I was taking something away from them, you understand. I want to—"
"Lift them up," Roxanne said, "instead of pushing them down."
"Exactly!" Megamind said, gesturing excitedly with his free hand, "exactly, yes! I'm so glad you understand—"
He reached down and brushed a strand of Roxanne's hair behind her ear and she smiled up at him.
"But!" he said, "We were talking about gambling."
"Gambling, yes," Roxanne agreed.
"Well, as I said, the bookies work in groups; they don't infringe on the territory of other groups. Then of course, there are gambling establishments; those register and then send in a certain percentage of their income to the gambling union, just as the bookies do. And all of the bookies are allowed to take bets on anything that doesn't fall under the jurisdiction of another group—I understand the outcome of my battles with Metro Man is a very popular subject for betting.
"Actually," Megamind continued, "gambling is far and away the least stringently regulated branch of my criminal empire. There's plenty of unreported gambling all throughout the underworld, but I don't bother with dealing with it. I make a point, actually, of pretending not to notice."
Roxanne frowned.
"People like to feel as if they're getting away with something," Megamind explained. "It makes them more likely not to fight you on everything else. And gambling is, comparatively speaking, one of the less harmful vices. Not like drugs or weapon sales."
His thumb moved back and forth on the back of Roxanne's hand.
"Do you—do you have more questions?" he asked.
"—well," Roxanne said, "earlier, you said something about it being against your rules for people to steal from people with less than them—I was wondering if you could tell me more about that?"
"About the rules?"
Roxanne nodded.
"Of course. The first rule is that I am Metrocity's one and only supervillain."
Roxanne opened her mouth to argue; Megamind shook his head.
"You're thinking of the other superpowered villains, of course," he said, "but they are just that: villains. Not supervillains. The distinction is terribly important."
"What's the difference?" Roxanne asked.
Megamind grinned a sharp-edged grin.
"Presentation," he said.
Roxanne laughed.
"You laugh!" he said, laughing with her, "But really, it's true, Roxanne; the difference starts with presentation. The smoke, the lights, the sound effects—supervillainy is about the show. And it's about the scope of the goals. A villain's goals are relatively small: robbing a bank, spreading some mayhem, etcy-tera. Whereas a supervillain—tell me, Miss Ritchi; what are my usual demands?"
"—that Metro Man leave the city," Roxanne said. "And that control of the city then be turned over to you. Okay, yeah, I see what you mean."
"Yes," Megamind said, "so. I am Metrocity's only supervillain. The other villains are not to try to claim this title; they're not to attempt to fight Metro Man. Only I do that."
Roxanne nodded her understanding.
"And the second rule is, of course," Megamind said, "nobody touches Roxanne Ritchi."
Roxanne felt her mouth fall open a little.
"—come again?" she said.
"Well, of course I had to make sure you were safe," Megamind said, voice matter of fact. "I couldn't risk you getting hurt by some member of my empire trying to impress me. So yes. Rule two is nobody touches Roxanne Ritchi. Honestly," he continued, "you mentioned your mother being worried about you living here, but Metrocity is really probably the safest place in the world for you. I mean—the entire criminal underworld knows you're off-limits."
"Oh my god," Roxanne said faintly, "oh my god—two years ago, some guy tried to mug me—and—and halfway through, he handed me my purse back and said he hadn't recognized me and then he apologized, oh my god Megamind—"
"Yes," Megamind said, "like that. Really—the damsel in distress bit is my thing entirely, as supervillain. I had to have a talk with one of my villains a few years ago—Lady Doppler; she kidnapped a reporter—really! a little originality, come on! I broke it up before it could go too far, explained to Lady Doppler that she needed to keep to her own arena of crime, had her take the girl back home and—"
"Connie!" Roxanne said, "Oh my god, that was Connie; she does the weather at KCMP; she said she got kidnapped by Lady Doppler once!"
"Right?! She even worked for the same news station as you!" Megamind said, "Like I said; imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but there is only one reporter Damsel in this town, thank you very much!"
Roxanne giggled; Megamind looked at her.
"What?" he asked.
"You're so indignant," she said.
Megamind's lips twitched, but he shook his head.
"The Supervillain/Damsel routine is our thing, Miss Ritchi," he said. "No one else's."
Roxanne laughed in earnest and then leaned forward to kiss his knee.
(It still hit her sometimes, how very wonderfully strange this whole thing was: lying in bed with Megamind, listening to him tell her earnestly that they were the only Damsel and Supervillain in the city. She had certainly never expected her life to take this particular odd twist, but she was so glad it had.)
"Now, obviously," Megamind continued, "there were some problems inherent in outright stating that you weren't to be touched—anyone wishing to actually challenge me might see you as an easy target. So I generally make a show of pretended weaknesses—have you read the Evil Overlord List?"
"Wh—uh, yeah," Roxanne said, laughing. "Have you? I mean—you don't follow it—the goatee, the maniacal laughter, the hostage-in-a-trap schtick—"
"Now wait a—"
"The dramatic posing, the monologuing about the evil plans—"
"You—!"
"The gloating, the—"
"Anyway!" Megamind said loudly, sending a mock glare in her direction. "The entry that I was talking about, Miss Ritchi is the one that advises you to make up a fake weakness to distract from your real weakness. So that's what I do—for you and for Minion, and for—other—important things. Every six months or so, I allow a conspiracy against me to set itself up. I pretend not to notice that, either. But really I keep them under very close scrutiny—once—" He snickered wickedly. "Once, I even used the disguise watch to join! Oh, it was so much fun! I was the most annoyingly incompetent secret society member ever; a month in and my fellow conspirators were spending more time plotting to murder my fake identity than my real one!"
He shook his head, still laughing a little.
"So distraction is a useful tactic," he said, "but I've also always made sure you showed to the best advantage, during kidnappings. Really I didn't have to do much, though; you did most of that yourself."
"Showed to the best advantage?" Roxanne asked.
"Yes, you know—the way you never screamed, no matter what I threatened you with, that certainly helped," Megamind said, "and also your intelligence, and the fact that you are dangerous—"
"Dangerous? What are you talking about?" Roxanne said, laughing uncertainly.
(dangerous? she wasn't dangerous—)
"Definitely dangerous," Megamind said. "Remember how many times you contributed to my defeat? Noticing some fatal flaw in the plan and then calling it out just in time…"
"Well, yeah, but—wait," Roxanne said, stomach dropping, "was that—was that on purpose, Megamind? Was that you—was that you just—"
(—just letting her win, as if he was playing cards with a child. and she'd been so proud, every time, too, had always felt like maybe this time, this time Megamind might see her as an equal—)
"Not all of it," Megamind said, "and—not always on purpose, not exactly, but—I would throw things in sometimes, to see if you would—to see if you would catch it? Pick up on it? It was like—having a conversation with you…"
"Oh," Roxanne said, feeling very small and very human and very stupid, all of a sudden.
"And even the things I did consciously add for you—" Megamind said, looking down at the blanket instead of her face, the fingers of his free hand tracing random patterns on the cloth, "—even those things seldom turned out the way I expected. I mean—do you remember the time—do you remember the time I used the Brawnbots?"
"—yeah, of course," Roxanne said.
"That was back when I used to tie you with your hands in front of your body, remember?" Megamind said. "And you jumped out of your chair and tore the control gauntlet for the Brawnbots off of my hand?"
"Yes," Roxanne said.
"I was standing at the console, pushing buttons," Megamind said, "how'd you know to go for the gauntlet instead, Roxanne?"
"—well, there was a little—there was—one of the joints on that glove," Roxanne said, "it was gold. None of the other joints on either glove were gold. And you had just—you'd referenced Lord of the Rings, before that—so I thought…"
She trailed off.
"You wanted me to do that," she said, feeling more stupid than before.
"No! That's what I mean! I—I wanted to see if you'd catch the reference, yes!" gesturing with his free hand. "I wanted to see if you'd read the—but you weren't supposed to actually yank the glove off! The electrical charge—I'm fortunate you weren't seriously injured; you might easily have been! You were just supposed to tell Metro Man what to do. But you—"
Megamind shook his head.
"You," he said, "nearly gave me a heart attack, Roxanne. That's when I realized I needed to be tying you more securely."
"—oh," Roxanne said.
(because she might hurt herself. she'd thought he'd started tying her up more securely after that because he'd been angry that she'd managed to ruin his plan herself, but really—really he'd been worried she wasn't intelligent enough to keep from injuring herself.)
A tense, uncomfortable silence stretched between them.
"W-well—anyway," Megamind said, biting his lip. "The rules—there—there are lots of rules—like I said, no stealing from people who have less than you; children are not to be harmed—that's more strictly enforced than rules about theft.
"Also there's—rules about acceptable places for violence. Gang violence is to be kept out of residential areas—except when we're using it deliberately to combat gentrification. That's mostly for show, though; and they're not meant to actually hurt any of the—hmm—invading people. Just scare them so they leave, which, if it happens enough times, drives the property values down, so that the new owners will sell, either to me, or to people that the gangs themselves hire as fronts."
Megamind ran the edge of his thumbnail over the blanket, creasing the fabric.
"I also use supervillainy in that way," he said. "Obvious, repeated shows of force in certain areas, calculated property damage—that's the way I broke the Scotts' stranglehold on the city. I gave the occupants of their tenements prior warning, found them places to stay, and then I called out Lord and Lady Scotts' precious golden boy hero and forced him to be complicit in the destruction of his family's own property.
"And when they didn't want to waste their money rebuilding, I bought the property myself, or helped other people do it."
He looked at Roxanne.
"And I sponsored the unions, too," he said, "helped them to strike for a better wage at Scott Technology, for fair hours and treatment. Made sure to attack at the factory while they were striking, so the strike got lots of media attention. And I forced Metro Man—Wayne Scott—into saying publicly how much he cared about these people.
"I called the strikers 'mindless drones undeserving of a paycheck', you see," he said, "so the only possible response Metro Man could make was a heroic speech about fairness and the glory of the workingman and so on and so forth."
Megamind smiled a small, tight smile.
"I made sure that everybody heard him, too, made sure that the cameras were rolling. God, I was laughing in the squad car as they drove me back to prison; it was the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen. Scott Technology acceded to the unions' demands that same night; it was the only thing they could do, after the superhero son of the company's president publicly promised the protesters he'd see to it they were treated right."
He shrugged.
"Well—anyway—real gang violence is kept out of residential areas, which is helpful, but the most helpful development in that regard is—well, it's a sort of—it's a sort of social alteration to the usual order of things. That I've—nudged along. You see, in Metrocity—in Metrocity, the most popular way of settling differences now, between members of the criminal underworld, especially gang members, is a public one-on-one confrontation. One calls the other out, they set the terms, decide the place and time—"
Roxanne blinked.
"Megamind, have you—" she said, "—are you telling me that you've re-popularized dueling?"
"…more or less, yes. Though I flatter myself that what they're modeling it most after is my fights with Metro Man."
"Oh my god," Roxanne said, letting go of his hand so she could sit up and face him, "are you—are you serious?"
"Lead by example, you know," Megamind said. "People watch and cheer the fights—banter is considered an important aspect. Sometimes the fights go on until somebody bleeds, sometimes they go on until somebody yields. Sometimes—in the most severe cases—they go on until somebody dies. Sometimes the fights are actually banter only—no physical violence at all.
"An entire gang can challenge another gang for territory, too. If the second gang accepts, then they both choose a champion, and the champions fight. Whoever loses can challenge again; this can go on for however long both gangs can continue providing champions—though there is a danger of a third gang seizing the right moment, challenging, and winning the territory themselves…"
He trailed off.
"These fights," Roxanne said, "you watch them, don't you, as Overlord?"
Megamind hesitated.
"Some of them," he said at last, avoiding Roxanne's eyes, not wanting to see her face as he admitted this, "Challenges—there are—certain days, challenge days, when most of these fights happen. Those are really a—an event, for the entire underworld. Sometimes, if the case is extreme or tempers are running too high, the fight happens immediately, but— usually, when they've decided to fight, they wait until the next challenge day. Like I said, challenge days are—it's like a sporting event; people watch and cheer and bet money and eat snacks and—look it is barbaric, I know it is, but—"
Megamind bit his lip, wishing he could—wishing he could find the words to explain, to excuse—
(the way that everything he'd done was built on lies and corruption and violence; moral compromises and blood, so much blood)
He couldn't find the words, though.
Silence spun out into the space between himself and Roxanne, and he didn't know how to break it.
"I know," he said at last, "I know it's not—good. What I did. With the city. How I did it. It's not—it's not what a good person would have done."
Laid out like this, for Roxanne—
He'd always told himself, each time she called his plans worthless, each time she told him that nothing he did ever worked, each time she looked at him with that expression which was somewhere in between pity and distain—
He'd always told himself if she knew—if she knew this one thing he'd done, if she knew the one good thing he'd ever managed to accomplish—
—maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't look at him like that.
But.
"If I had been a better person," Megamind said quiely, "I would have found a better way."
But laid out like that, for her—put into words for Roxanne, it was painfully obvious, how inescapably flawed it was, so completely clear that what he'd managed to do with his city—
It wasn't good enough.
The best thing he'd ever done, and it still wasn't good enough.
"I did the best I could," he said, looking down at his own hands.
Fuck.
He'd dragged this—this—out in front of her and he'd expected her to be impressed?
"—Megamind," Roxanne said, "Megamind, that is—what you've done is—what you've done is amazing."
Roxanne reached out and touched his hand. Startled, he did look up, then.
"Really," she said, her expression soft-edged with—
(wonder? affection? amazement? why was she looking at him like that?)
"This—" she said. "This is—this is amazing. You are—you are absolutely amazing."
Megamind twisted his fingers in the sleeve of her sweater. Roxanne seemed to understand the gesture for what it was, because she put her other hand on his knee and squeezed it, smiled at him reassuringly.
"—really?" he asked, voice small.
"Really," Roxanne said.
"And—and are you impressed, Roxanne?" Megamind asked hesitantly.
"Megamind," Roxanne said, looking into his eyes, "Megamind—I have never been more impressed in my entire life."
"—oh," Megamind said, drinking in the expression on her face, memorizing the moment.
(impressed; she was impressed; she was impressed)
He reached out and two fingertips lightly on her cheek, not really conscious of the reason for the gesture.
(check that this is real)
Her skin was warm, and she turned her head slightly, brushing her lips over his fingertips in a kiss. Megamind's breath caught and she gave him a quick smile as he pulled his hand back, his fingers curling protectively into his palm, as if her kiss was a physical thing he could hold in his hand and keep.
"Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?" Roxanne said.
Megamind's breath caught on a disbelieving laugh this time.
(as though he could deny her anything when she called him that. As though he'd ever refuse to let her ask him a question.)
(She wouldn't be Roxanne if she ceased to ask questions.)
"Always," Megamind said.
Roxanne gave him another swift smile, and then her expression turned serious.
"Why—why did you do it like that?" she asked.
Megamind tilted his head, frowned.
"Like what?"
"Why did you—I mean I get—what you were—trying to accomplish, with the city," Roxanne said, "What you have accomplished, and I see—I can see why you would automatically turn to crime as a way of achieving your goals. I mean, you were raised in a prison, for fuck's sake; that's definitely going to skew your perception of normality, but…"
She was frowning now, wearing her I-am-thinking-furiously expression.
"I don't understand why you decided to go with supervillainy," she said. "It just seems like an—odd leap of logic to make; I don't get it. The stuff with using supervillainy against gentrification and to support the unions; was that planned from the beginning? Was that why—"
"No," Megamind said. "No, I—it's been—it's developed—over the years. I didn't really—I didn't have everything planned out; it's changed as I—learned. I mean it's—"
He gave a short laugh.
"It's not as if I knew what I was doing," he said.
"So why, then?" Roxanne asked. "Why supervillainy?"
Megamind sighed.
"There were—there were multiple reasons," he said. "I mean, there are always…multiple reasons for a decision, but—the real reason, the first and fundamental reason why I chose to be a supervillain is —Wayne Scott was always going to be a superhero."
He saw the surprise register on Roxanne's face.
"But I always thought—"
"—that it was good rising up against evil?" Megamind finished. "That I became a supervillain and then he became a hero to stop me?"
He gave her a small, bitter smile and pulled his legs up beneath his chin, wrapping his arms around them.
"No," he said, "no, it wasn't like that."
He took a breath, let it out.
"Wayne Scott was always going to be a superhero," he said, "his parents were very clear about that; the city was clear about that—Wayne was clear about that, himself. Ever since we were children. By the time we were in high school it was an accepted fact. They had him working as a junior Defender, then, even. Wayne Scott was always going to be a superhero—and his parents—they owned the city," Megamind went on. "Are you—are you beginning to see the problem, Roxanne?"
"You think they were going to use him to control people," Roxanne said.
"To keep them in line, yes," Megamind said. "Their own private superhero—no strikes for pay raises. No protests about—anything. No questioning Authority, because Authority has an attack dog who can fly, who can shoot lasers out of his eyes, who can hear what you're saying from across the city. And he's the Hero, which means he's Good by default, which means if you're fighting against him, that makes you the Bad Guy and everybody knows what happens to bad guys, don't they? Everybody knows what they deserve."
"Oh," Roxanne said.
"And—even leaving all that aside, Metro Man is massively overqualified for the position of Defender, do you realize that?" Megamind said, "Historically, people filling the role have just had minor powers—or no powers. And they've dealt with ordinary criminals or villains with the same level of minor powers, and so everybody has been, for the most part, relatively safe. There have been a few accidental deaths, but nothing—"
Megamind closed his eyes briefly, took a shuddery breath.
"But Metro Man," he said, "oh, Metro Man needed a supervillain. Because if he'd just been facing ordinary people, ordinary villains? People were going to get killed. A lot. Back then—I told you, our fighting is practically stage fighting by now, but that's because of practice. Early days? He didn't have that control. He—he barely had control at all. There were—there were accidents, when we were children, when we were teenagers, times he—thank fuck he was mostly focused on dealing with me; I'm harder to hurt than people are—"
"Humans," Roxanne said quietly.
"—what?" Megamind said, looking over at her.
"Harder to hurt than humans," Roxanne said. "Humans. Not people."
Megamind made a dismissive sound in the back of his throat, waved his hand.
"Semantics," he said.
"No," Roxanne said, voice still quiet, "no, I really don't think it is."
Megamind swallowed, feeling his eyes burn. He looked away again, down at the blanket.
"In—in any case," he said, "I'm harder to hurt. And. And Metro Man needed a supervillain. I think the Scotts must have known that, too—their newspapers were always very—supportive of my claim to supervillainy. Even that first newspaper, when I was expelled from 'Lil Gifted—and they never…"
He reached down to brush his fingertips over the blanket.
"I mean, logically—" he said, "I was causing a great deal of financial damage to their family business. One would think they would have—attempted to bribe me or—god, even hire me. They're a tech company, for fuck's sake; no matter what they're getting out of that pod over the years, the things I could make for them would be—"
He cut himself off, shaking his head. He looked at Roxanne.
"But they never tried," he said. "So I think they knew, too, that it was—necessary, that it was—what I was meant to be. What I was for. My destiny."
"No," Roxanne said, face twisting into an expression of—stubborn anger. "No, Megamind, that is not your destiny."
Megamind frowned. Didn't she see—? Maybe he needed to—maybe he needed to explain this differently.
(he could tell her—)
no.
(he could, though. he could tell her about the bridge.)
no. no; he didn't want to talk about that; didn't want Roxanne to hear the details of all the ways in which he was massively, inescapably, irreparably fucked up.
(she'd understand, though, wouldn't she. if he told her about the bridge)
Megamind looked at Roxanne, still gazing at him with her mouth set and her eyebrows drawn together. He took a breath.
Roxanne looked at Megamind, watched his face—didn't he get it, yet? Didn't he see how he'd been—trapped and screwed over and forced into this?
"When I was sixteen," Megamind said slowly, deliberately, "I almost killed myself."
Roxanne took a sharp breath. What—
"I told you I think better, sometimes, in high places," Megamind continued, "that's why I went to the bridge, originally. It was only when I was already up there, looking down at the water, that it occurred to me to jump."
Roxanne bit the inside of her cheek. Megamind frowned.
"What I remember best," he said, "what I remember best was how reasonable it seemed. I remember thinking—if the cumulative effect on the world of your continued existence is negative, do you not have a moral duty to remove yourself from it?"
Roxanne pressed her hand against her mouth.
"And of course, put like that," Megamind said, "I knew—I knew the answer had to be yes. And—realizing that, deciding to jump—oh, it was such a relief."
Roxanne pressed her hand harder against her mouth.
"It was the brainbots," Megamind said, "that kept me from doing it. The first brainbot. That's probably pretty awful of me. I mean, I knew Minion would be sad if I died, but—the eventual—the outcome of—he wouldn't have had to take care of me anymore; he would have been—free. But."
Megamind's lips twisted.
"The brainbot—there were some problems with Zero's programming; I'd figured out how to fix it, but I hadn't thought to tell Minion. So if I jumped—Zero wouldn't get fixed. So. So I told myself—tomorrow. You can kill yourself tomorrow. Just wait until tomorrow. One more day.
"And I climbed down from the bridge and went back home to the library. And—god—it was so hard."
Roxanne reached out a hand and wrapped her fingers around one of Megamind's wrists. Megamind looked down at her hand on his blankly.
"It was while I was at the library that the—alternative option presented itself," he said. "Storytime for children at the library is on saturdays at nine. There was an air duct in the library's attic that led down to the floor of the children's area. I used to lie next to it and listen. It was saturday, the day I decided to put off killing myself. I had finished reprogramming Zero. And I was lying on the floor next to the air duct, waiting for it to be tomorrow.
"They were reading—I don't even know the title of the book. Something, anyway, and one of the children thought the villain was scary. And I remember—I remember another child telling them—telling them not to worry. Bad guys always lose, they said. It's what they're for."
Megamind's eyebrows drew together pensively.
"And it occurred to me—it occurred to me, for the first time—that evil—a conscious, visible, controlled kind of evil—could have a purpose. That it could be used to create a cumulatively positive effect on the world."
Megamind looked into Roxanne's face.
"Metro Man needed a supervillain," he said. "The city needed someone to be the bad guy. I was there. I was evil. It was destiny. So that's what I did."
A quiet, wounded noise tore itself from Roxanne's throat. She moved forward and threw her arms around Megamind. He started, and then held statue still as she hugged him.
"Megamind," she said, "oh, god, Megamind; I am so—I am so sorry."
He was silent for a long moment.
"—that's all right," Megamind said finally, voice stilted, still making no move to embrace her.
Roxanne tightened her fingers in his shirt, tightened her arms around him.
"I am so sorry that you had to go through that," she said.
"—it's fine," Megamind said, holding himself stiff and aloof in the circle of her arms.
"It is not fine," Roxanne said, running her palms down his back, feeling the tension in his spine, "It is not fine, and I am so sorry. I am so sorry that they made you think you were evil, sweetheart. You are not—"
Megamind made a sound of frustration and pulled away from her.
"—they?" he said. "'They'? That's—you still don't get it! Why don't you get it? It was never—it was never about any 'they'! Shool, Wayne, newspapers, people—all of that was—is—unpleasant, that was awful, but it wasn't—"
"—Megamind—"
"It wasn't about that," he said, making a slashing movement with his hand. "It has never been about that—it has never been about the things people say about me, because all the things they say about me are things that I already know about myself. Supervillainy was a choice, but being bad— there is something wrong with me, Roxanne. Some fatal flaw in the design, something—not just broken, but defective. When I hear people say that I'm evil? All they are doing is confirming what I already know. Proving that everybody else can see it, too, that—"
"No," Roxanne said.
"No, what?" Megamind snarled.
"No, everybody else does not fucking see that!" Roxanne said."I don't see that!"
Megamind made a scornful noise. Roxanne growled and climbed into his lap, put her hands on his shoulders before he could push her away.
"You told me," Roxanne said, tightening her grip, shaking him slightly, "you said —that I see things how they really are, do you remember, Megamind? Do you remember that?"
Megamind's head moved in a jerky nod and Roxanne caught his face in her hands.
"When I look at you," she said, "I don't see anything evil, Megamind."
Megamind flinched, but Roxanne didn't let go of him, didn't look away.
"When I look at you, Megamind," Roxanne said "All I see is good."
Megamind made a low, angry sound in his chest.
"Megamind—"
"I don't understand how you can say that!" he burst out, knocking her hands from his face. "How can you say that? I don't—I don't understand how you can even bear to touch me!"
"I love you!" Roxanne cried. "God, Megamind, of course I want to touch you!"