Author's Note: Wow, I wasn't expecting the reaction I got with the last chapter - but I'm not complaining, far from it! Thanks, all - and I'm especially touched this time because that chapter contained not a single character who appeared in the movie. Definitely a landmark when it comes to making acceptable OCs! This should bring us to within two chapters of the end, though I have a feeling that there will be some side stories spinning off from this one to come, some of the tales that were referred to but not shown, and some other things that will grow from it. Thanks again to all my wonderful readers and reviewers. Enjoy!
XXV
The Reception Crasher
When the brief but necessary business of signing and witnessing the documents that were the legal certification of the marriage was completed and the papers safely tucked into Judge Crenshaw's pocket, to be filed first thing Monday, the happy couple was bustled into the back of sleek limousine that had brought Roxanne and Pinky from the house. There were a few difficult but amusing moments when Pinky charged into the limo, ready to return as she had come. The mere idea that she should go with Minion and Mr. Wayne instead had the poor pink brainbot positively heartbroken, if such was possible for a brainbot, apparently feeling that her usefulness for the day was ended.
When Roxanne suggested that Pinky should take custody of her bouquet until they reached wherever the dinner was to be held, she perked up. Then when Daddy added the idea that she accompany Josh Cabela and his girlfriend to help provide directions — since someone had to drive Wayne's rental car, and the young man had volunteered, sparing the poor vehicle another bout of the retired superhero's bad driving — she was positively ecstatic. Josh and Bethany were fortunately amenable to the idea of having the bot go with them, and the problem of Pinky's hurt feelings (and the potential for her to cause trouble because of them) was averted.
Although Wayne and Minion were going to lead the other vehicles carrying the Crenshaws and the wedding guests to the site of the dinner, the musician had waved for the limo driver to head out even before he joined Minion in the SUV. That surprised Megamind and Roxanne for a moment or two, until the driver's voice explained from beyond the dark privacy screen separating the front and rear compartments.
"Mr. Scott gave me instructions to take the two of you via the 'scenic route,'" the polite baritone said as they started down the narrow, wooded road back to the highway. "He and Master Minion wanted a bit of time to make sure everything is in order before you arrive. If you're concerned that I might have underhanded motives in starting off early, I would remind Miss Roxanne of how reliably I drove her everywhere she wanted to go after her thirtieth birthday party."
The bride blinked for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Tyler!" she exclaimed, remembering. "Are you still working for the Scotts? I thought you'd retired a few years ago."
"I did," the chauffeur replied with an audible smile. "I moved back to where the rest of my family is now, near Green Bay. When Mr. Scott told me he needed a reliable, trustworthy driver to do a very important favor for him today, I was more than happy to say yes. And congratulations, ma'am, sir. If there's anything you need from me, you have only to ask."
When the intercom clicked off, Megamind favored his new wife with a puzzled expression. "That's Gerald Tyler, the Scotts' old chauffeur," she explained. "I didn't know he was the driver until now. Pinky wouldn't let him help me into the car earlier, she didn't even let him come out to open the door for me. I think she was afraid that if any man saw me before we got to the wedding site, it'd jinx everything."
That cleared up a few of the blue hero's questions, but not all. "And he drove you home after your thirtieth birthday party?"
Roxanne nodded. "It was at a club downtown, I'd had a little too much to drink — you know, single woman turning thirty, no real boyfriend, no real prospects, that sort of depressing thing. Wayne was there and he wouldn't let me drive myself home. I told him I didn't want to fly because it was raining, so he called the family chauffeur and told him to take me anywhere I wanted to go. I had Tyler driving me all over Metro for half the night, until I fell asleep in the back and he took me home. I'm not sure, but I think he carried me up to my apartment and had Carlos open the door so he could tuck me in on my couch. I've always thought he's a sweet older man, but nothing more, so don't get jealous. It was actually nice of Wayne to find a driver for today that he and I could both trust, after all the headaches we've had worrying about Mitchell."
Megamind saw her point. In the excitement of the day, it hadn't occurred to him until that moment that the underhanded scum could have abducted Roxanne by posing as the limo driver, if he hadn't still been hours away when she'd first gotten into the car. He dragged one hand across his long face. "I should've thought of that," he kicked himself, but she wasn't having any of it.
"Cut yourself some slack," she suggested, sidling closer to him on the comfortably wide and well-upholstered bench, slipping her arms around his long neck. "We've both had a lot on our minds, lately. It's good that we've had friends like Minion and Wayne to catch the things we missed."
Her reasonable observations coupled with her enticing closeness was more than enough to convince him. He smiled, his own arms going around her waist. "You're right, as usual. And in case I haven't told you already, you look absolutely beautiful."
She kissed him softly, smiling more brightly as she ran her hands up the edges of his flared collar before running them back along his ears. "Thanks, you're very handsome yourself. Minion really did a spectacular job on short notice. Did he have to strong-arm you into wearing white today, or did you just figure it wouldn't hurt to go with tradition?"
His grin was impishly charming. "Neither. I remembered you saying you thought I looked good in white the day we got here, and when Minion showed me what he'd already started, I thought there wouldn't be a more special occasion for it than this." He brought one hand up between them to touch the small sapphire pendant at her throat. "I see you didn't throw it away, like you said you would."
"I couldn't," she confessed. "I was just in a bitchy mood that day, and I knew that the things I'd accused you of weren't true. If you really hadn't been thinking about what I would like or want, you would've gotten me something with spikes or circuitry, not this. You were trying to be considerate, and I was just terrible about it."
"Well, you did apologize the next day. I just thought you must've gone through with your threat to throw it in the trash, because I never saw it again until today."
Her cheeks flushed a most attractive shade of pink. "That's because I lost track of it until I was packing for this trip. I brought it along in case we went somewhere a little more dressy. I was going to wear it then to surprise you."
Now, Megamind laughed. "Oh, you certainly did that! I was so surprised when I saw you wearing it, I thought I wouldn't be able to make a sound when the time came, and you'd walk off in a huff, thinking I was having second thoughts!"
She chuckled. "Nah, I would've waited. Besides, if we're playing true confessions, then I have to admit that I thought I'd die laughing the second I saw Wayne in a kilt! If he hadn't given me something to hang onto when he did, I would've slipped right down that hill and into the lake!"
They laughed together. "It's certainly been a day full of surprises — mostly because of Wayne." A strangely perplexed look twitched across the blue face. "I have no idea how he knew exactly the people we'd talked about inviting, if we'd waited to do this at home."
"My fault," Roxanne confessed. "I mentioned it to him one day when Minion had you out in the boathouse for a fitting, and I called to ask him to bring up a piece of handmade lace that had been my grandmother's for Minion to use in the dress." She touched a delicate lace rose at the center of the bodice's neckline. "He wanted to do the whole 'something old, something new' bit. Wayne asked if I still missed her, we got to talking about family, and the thing about guests came up somewhere in the conversation. I had no idea he'd do this — though I'm glad he did, now. Aren't you?"
Mgamind's green eyes rolled in expressive, but clearly exaggerated, exasperation. "Oh, yes, though at first, I felt a little out-put that he'd presumed to pick our wedding guests."
She ran her thumb down the fine hair of his goatee, smiling. "It's 'put-out,' hon..."
He shrugged. "Whatever. It didn't last, and I'm relieved to hear that you told him. For a few minutes, I was haunted by images of him eavesdropping on our conversations."
"He wouldn't do that, not if he's serious about wanting to earn your trust, and I really think he is."
"So do I. Can we stop talking about him, now? If we're taking the scenic route, I'd like to enjoy the... scenery." From his suggestive smile and the way his eyes appreciatively drank in the sight of her, the scenery he wanted to enjoy most was in his arms.
Roxanne used the excuse to snuggle closer to him. "So would I," she agreed. She kissed him lightly, then smiled, a mischievous little smirk. "By the way, you didn't give me the present you promised this morning."
He returned the kiss, but his brow furrowed with worry as he thought hard, trying to remember. "Which present? The moon and the stars?"
"Mm-hm," she confirmed, now kissing the tip of his nose. "I forgot that the way we decided to do things, you wouldn't say, 'I do.'"
He remembered now, grinning broadly. "Oh, I do, Roxanne my love," he vowed with earnest eagerness. "I most definitely do!"
She purred her satisfaction. "So do I, Mykaal," she replied just as eagerly and earnestly, sealing their agreement with a kiss that was neither light nor brief. Thus for the remainder of the drive, they took advantage of the limo's privacy to savor their first time alone together as husband and wife.
About half an hour after the limo left Cave Point, it arrived back in Sister Bay, carefully navigating the turn from highway 57 onto 42 and down the steep hill into the village center. By then, agreeing that it would be in horrible taste to show up late and suspiciously disheveled to the wedding dinner Minion and Wayne had so thoughtfully arranged, Megamind and Roxanne had pulled back from their more vigorous amorous activities and were happily snuggled together, watching the lovely scenery rolling by beyond the side windows. When they reached the village, they expected the driver to continue on past the downtown and head back to the summer house; thus they were surprised when the limo slowed almost to a stop, to make a left-hand turn into a familiar parking lot not far beyond the foot of the hill.
Curious, they sat up straighter, and saw that they had arrived at their destination. They recognized the location, the small lakeside park behind the little café that had become their favorite restaurant in town, the place they had visited on the evening their first day of vacation. But though they knew the spot, they had never seen it like this before, fully decked out for a wedding celebration.
Minion and Wayne had definitely gone all-out. The lavish flowers and tasteful decorations the ichthyoid had felt would be out of place at the magnificently natural Cave Point were a sight to behold here in the little park beside the lake. Through the auspices of both Judge Crenshaw and the goodwill the village had toward the Scotts — in particular Lady Scott, who had been active and generous in yearly efforts to keep the local parks and waterways well-kept and beautiful — the park had been closed for the wedding, as a prominent sign at the parking lot entrance proclaimed. Tables had been set up, playground equipment camouflaged beneath curtains of flowers and ribbon, the little white gazebo where concerts were occasionally held decorated and filled with food and drink for all the guests.
And there were many more guests here than there had been at the Point, but not unwelcome ones. Now that the ceremony was over and the marriage official, the need to keep away those who might have sought to stop or disrupt it was over. Even so, the affair hadn't been broadcast to all and sundry; even these guests had been hand-picked by Minion and Wayne, locals with whom Roxanne and Megamind had become genuinely friendly during their vacation, and who Minion had already met or Wayne knew himself from previous visits. There were a few unfamiliar faces mingled with those they recognized, but all had been properly introduced as family or close friends of those guests who were known. They were all genuinely happy for the newlywed couple, and broke into spontaneously friendly cheers and applause when the limo finally arrived.
Roxanne grinned as they peered out the window as Tyler carefully pulled the limo into the long, narrow lot, slowly headed for the place reserved for them. "Those two," she chuckled, shaking her head in wonder at their two friends, old and new. Minion and Wayne were watching as the limo arrived, but it was clear they were both proud and happy, delighted by how well all their plans and surprises had gone that day. "I have a feeling that they've both been planning for this a lot longer than just the last week or so."
Megamind snorted, no less amused than his bride. "Minion says he's only been thinking about this seriously since you moved into the Lair, but I suspect he's thought about it for a lot longer, just not so constantly. I don't mind. He's spent all of his life looking after me, taking care of me, supporting me through thick and thin..." His voice trailed off into what sounded like a badly disguised sniffle.
Roxanne leaned back against him, turning her head to place a gentle kiss on his cheek, erasing the telltale dampness. "I don't mind, either," she assured her groom. "If he ever does manage to find himself that lady fish of his dreams, we'll have to make sure it's as wonderful an occasion for him as he made this for us."
"Definitely. Are you ready to face our adoring public, Ms... Mrs..." Megamind's black brows knotted together. "Which is it?" he wondered. "What do you want to be called from now on?"
She smiled as the limo finally came to a stop. "By you and Minion — and Wayne, if I could get him to remember — 'Roxanne' is just fine. For my on-camera job, I think I'll have to stick with Ritchi — or maybe I could get my bosses to go with hyphenating it. For the rest of the world, I like Mrs. Thejhan. Like I said, it's new to both of us, it has no bad baggage, and I think it would be a very nice tribute to your parents. After all, if it wasn't for them, you wouldn't be here, and I'd probably have spent the rest of my life wondering why I never found my soulmate."
The matter of his absent parents and the name they had also shared hadn't even occurred to Megamind, and she spoke of it with such unaffected sincerity, he found himself at a complete loss for words. For a moment, his lower lip trembled with a shaky sort of wonder, then he kissed her very deeply, the only way he knew how to express what he was feeling without mere words.
Naturally, that was the moment the door was opened to let them out, but neither cared. The assorted laughs and claps and hoots of approval from those who saw were not truly mocking, but rather the sounds of friends and kin who shared in their happiness. "Thank you," he whispered when their lips parted at the sound of someone clearing his throat.
Roxanne answered with an understanding smile and a quick peck on his nose. "You're welcome."
"Hey guys, are you coming out or will we need to find a fire hose to get you to break it up?" Wayne drawled suggestively.
The bride had a quick comeback as she allowed Tyler to help her from the car. "I'd watch what I'm saying if I were you, Wayne, at least until you get out of that skirt."
The former Metro Man's chagrined smile was apologetic, but not terribly. Happily, Pinky chose that auspicious moment to come flying over with Roxanne's flowers, cheerfully bowging up an excited little storm. The reporter laughed, amused not only by her little pink shadow's antics, but by the surprise they elicited from guests who had never seen a brainbot before. Blinkie and his group were being very discreet, as Minion and Daddy had requested, and were readily noticeable only to those familiar with them, floating amid the branches of trees, perched quietly on roofs and in other good vantage points. Only their camera-equipped eyestalks occasionally stretched out and bent to get a better angle on something Blinkie, as their director, thought looked interesting and should be recorded for posterity.
"Why don't you keep an eye on that for me for now?" Roxanne asked her cybernetic flower girl. "I think I'm going to need both my hands free for a while." Pinky was quite happy to comply with her request, and took the oh-so-important flowers off to stand guard over them, at the table inside the gazebo where the wedding cake Minion had made was on display. She was followed by Little Nipper and Splice, who considered themselves Pinky's personal escort for the day.
Roxanne's cousin Sean — who was standing nearby with his wife, admiring the view of the lake from that vantage — watched the bots with considerable interest. "They are a lot like dogs, aren't they?" the tall, thin, bespectacled engineer observed with a bemused grin. "You've mentioned it to us in your emails, Roxanne, but I didn't expect them to be quite like this!"
Lynn, his wife, a willowy blonde whose tastefully unusual clothes reflected her back-to-nature approach to her arts, giggled. "I think they're adorable — and very creative! I love how they're all a little bit different, just like a litter of puppies or kittens!"
Warden Thurmer, who was also nearby, snorted with good humor. "I knew when I didn't let the boy here have a puppy, there'd be consequences," he said in a tone of long-suffering that was obviously feigned.
"It was for the best, sir," Minion assured his ward's former legal guardian. "If a prison wasn't the best place to raise a child, raising a puppy and a child would've been impossible! At least with the brainbots, there aren't little... er... organic gifts to clean up, just the odd gnawed boot, an occasional loose bolt, and bits of beat up old hand tools."
Sean blanched. "They eat hand tools?"
"No, they just like to play fetch with them," Megamind said drolly as he climbed out of the limo behind Roxanne. "Where's your little friend, Wayne?"
"Blinkie?" The musician glanced about, then jerked one thumb toward the gazebo. The dining table for the wedding party had been set up on the open lawn that spread out beyond the small white structure, and the head camera bot had taken up a position on the gazebo's roof, from which he had a perfect vantage to observe all the truly important areas of the little park. "He's taking his job very seriously, so tagging after me just isn't worthy of his agenda today. C'mon, you two, let's get this party going!"
And so they did. The food and drink that had been set up inside the gazebo had been meant to be hors d'oeuvres and snacks for the guests, not the actual meal. Properly set tables with linens and china and crystal had been arranged for the dinner, for precisely the correct number of guests. The flowers on the tables were simple and elegant, a variety of white blossoms with sprays of tiny blue forget-me-nots, one of the very few truly blue flowers in existence. Minion obviously did not believe in fake or dyed flowers, and as in these climes, the small blue flower was well past its natural season, the devious fish must have either found a specialty greenhouse that forced them, or he'd gotten Wayne to scour the planet, looking for a place where they were currently in bloom.
The location for the celebration had been chosen for several reasons, the first being that the summer house, large and lovely though it was, wasn't really adequate for the needs of so large a group. The property was large, but half was a sloping hillside and much of the rest either wooded or covered with shrubs. Besides, it was where the happy couple would go when it was time for them to leave the party, and it simply didn't make sense for them to have to wait until all the guests were cleared out and the place cleaned up before they could be alone.
The second reason was one of both pleasant familiarity and simple convenience. Minion knew that his boss and Ms Roxanne had a fondness for the little restaurant on the opposite side of the parking lot; he'd grown quite fond of it himself during the past week, as they'd taken their meals there several times in order to free up time for both wedding preparations and relaxation. The owners and staff had been delighted when they'd been asked to cater food as well as provide service for the wedding dinner.
The more elegant canapés and champagnes and fine wines, as well as other special dishes and additional service, were provided by another local restaurant with which Wayne was very familiar, a fine but still rather casual bistro he had preferred over the snootier traditional supper clubs and "North Shore Nancy" places his parents had favored. He had known one of the chefs — now the owner — and the wine steward from back when he'd still been able to snatch a few days of vacation once or twice a year, and when he'd approached them for short-notice help with the wedding, they'd been happy to agree. Between the two restaurants, they had arranged for a very pleasant repast, offering several different choices of each course to accommodate every preference or potential medical need that man and ichthyoid could think of. The only thing conspicuously absent was, of course, fish, but there were other, more agreeable varieties of seafood available for those who wished it.
In order to volunteer their services in attending those at the head table, Marco and two of the other students from abroad who'd worked the summer as wait staff at the café had put off heading to their colleges by two days, figuring that it couldn't hurt since classes wouldn't begin for another week, anyway. The dinner was a happy affair for everyone involved, both guests and hired help — for Wayne insisted that all those helping be properly compensated for their time and efforts, whether they'd volunteered or not — and laughter flowed as freely as the food and drink. Minion and Wayne kept surreptitiously careful eyes open, just in case trouble should rear its ugly head, but as they moved into the later hours of the afternoon, all was still quiet.
The meal was coming to an end, with the guests chatting amiably as they nibbled at things while dishes were cleared and tables tidied. During the course of things, many had come to personally congratulate the bride and groom, which had led to some interesting, if brief, conversations. Roxanne knew Warden Thurmer and his wife, and was also acquainted with the DeVries, but she had only heard of the Davises and Josh Cabela through Megamind. In turn, Megamind knew Marty and his partner Edwin as well as Kim and Ken Akiyama because of their connections to KMCP, but he had known of Roxanne's cousins only through her tales of them, and the emails they exchanged.
It didn't take long at all for them to understand why these were special people in each other's lives. Roxanne found the Davises very easy to like, and Josh Cabela was a genuinely funny young man who could easily have a career as a comedy writer, if he ever decided to try. Being an engineer, Sean Ritchi was someone Megamind found easy to talk to, as well as his wife Lynn, who was artistically interesting, if a bit of a flake. Her cousins Danielle and Henry were sweet people, friendly, if on the shy side, and the ex-villain found it entertainingly easy to make Danielle blush, until Roxanne put an end to that with a whispered threat concerning their wedding night and a couch with his name on it.
It was coming to the part of the celebration in which it was traditional for toasts to be offered for the newlyweds when a rather agitated Splice came bowging up to the head table. Minion intercepted the brainbot before he could barge in on a lively discussion about something concerning thermodynamics between his boss, Sean Ritchi, and Ken Akiyama. "I'll see what he wants, sir," the ichthyoid said when Megamind looked up, puzzled and faintly annoyed by the bot's shrilly yapping interruption. "Someone's probably trying to sneak a taste of the wedding cake or something. I'll take care of it."
As he headed off with the bot, Roxanne leaned over to her new husband. "I have something I need to take care of myself," she whispered confidentially, needing to add no greater explanation. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't let anyone start making toasts without me." He smiled sappily when she kissed the ear into which she'd whispered; she smirked at how he then jumped right back into the discussion without missing a beat.
She caught up with Minion halfway to the gazebo, which was for the moment in the same direction as the park's washrooms, a small building discreetly tucked away in the middle of a grove of trees and shrubs. "Anything important?" she asked the piscine as he tried to keep Splicer from creating a scene while he led the way to whatever the bot felt required immediate attention.
Minion sighed and shrugged. "I hope not. You know how excitable the brainbots can get, sometimes. With Pinky's 'I'm so special, look at me' attitude today, I can just see the three of them getting into some kind of squabble, ripping your bouquet to shreds and decimating the wedding cake in the process. It's just the sort of mischief they'd get into, and leave it to one of 'em to come tattling on the others."
Roxanne groaned. "I'm sorry if I encouraged her too much, I thought it would help keep her out of trouble, giving her something specific to do."
Minion gave her a reassuring smile. "Oh, I know, Ms Roxanne, and I think it was a good idea. Really, all the bots have been behaving themselves very well today, but it was only a matter of time before one of them got bored and restless and started causing a fuss. I'm sure this isn't anything, really. Don't worry about it — and don't let Sir worry, either. Whatever trouble the brainbots have gotten themselves into, I'm sure it's something I can handle."
Now, the brunette returned the smile. "I'm sure you can, Minion, and thank you. You've helped make this a very, very special day, no matter what the brainbots have done. And from now on, I'd be very happy if you'd just call me Roxanne. We're all family now, aren't we?"
The fish turned his whole finny body toward her, his smile both shy and toothy. "I guess we are. But I might forget myself for a while, or when we're in public and it seems too... familiar. Is it okay if I call you Mrs. Roxanne, then?"
She chuckled. "Perfectly. Or Mrs. Thejhan. I've decided that's the name I want to use, outside of work."
"Really?" Minion's big amber eyes danced with delight. "Oh, Sir will be so happy! Does he know?"
She nodded. "I told him just before we arrived, and you're right, he was very happy. I can't bring back your world or his parents, but at least I can help their family name live on a little longer."
The fish was truly touched. "That was very thoughtful of you, M— Roxanne," he corrected, a little bashfully. "I'll try to remember, I promise!"
Grinning, Roxanne stood on tiptoe to kiss the part of his dome to which he was physically closest. "I won't ever get mad at you for trying to be polite, Minion. I just want you to know that I'll always be your friend, too. Ah, there's the path!" she added, saving him from further happy embarrassment. "If you'll excuse me, nature calls. And if Pinky gives you any trouble, just tell her that if she doesn't listen to you, I'll be very angry with her!"
Minion laughed as she hurried on up the walkway that led into the grove where the restroom building was hidden. "I'll remember that, thanks!" he called after her, hurrying on in his own direction. Splice was getting impatient, and he knew that any further delay might make a bad situation worse.
He didn't know quite how bad the situation actually was until Splice brought him not to the gazebo but to the back of a park service building beyond it, not far from the lakeshore. There he saw not just Little Nipper and two of the camerabots, but also Snooper, who was whining and bobbing in great distress.
Minion didn't know that the stealthbot was a mite tuckered from his hasty flight from Manitowoc. He also didn't know that the bot was a good deal more upset with the fact that when he'd gone straight to the coordinates for the summer house, several miles east of the park, he'd been frantic when he'd found the place empty, the communications interface unattended, and no other bot within range to pick up his distress signal.
But Megamind had designed the stealthbots to be particularly resourceful, something that could be crucial to even an artificial intelligence intended for covert surveillance. So after a few minutes of dithering, searching the house and grounds to make sure no one was there, Snooper had begun to employ a standard search pattern, broadcasting his recognition signal to any of Daddy's brainbots or other communications devices that might come within range. The spiral sweep took him farther and farther from the house, and finally, after what seemed like forever but was actually less than ten minutes, the sweep took him far enough to the south and west to make contact with Splice, the newest and most advanced of the handful of brainbots at the park.
The fact that Splice was newer than the others also meant that he had marginally more common sense. When he picked up Snooper's mayday and responded to it, he had the intelligence to request that Snooper shut down the warning signal before the other, less prudent bots picked up on it and flew into a total, wild panic. Not that Splice was doing a whole lot better. With their communications watches taken off for the day and Minion in this different robot body, talking directly with him or Daddy was impossible; the specialized human-like cybersuit just wasn't equipped for it in the way Minion's gorilla suit had been.
But Splice knew the instructions he'd been given that morning: Do not bother Daddy unless Minion says it's okay; go to Minion first with any problems, or in an absolute emergency, to Mr. Scott. So Splice had done just that, even though Minion apparently thought he'd forgotten his orders, believing he intended to disturb Daddy. And when he finally managed to get the piscine to follow him to where Snooper was waiting, they wasted no time in trying to tell him the awful news. Since talking directly was not an option, Snooper went for a visual, projecting the images Sneaker had relayed to him against the blank back wall of the concrete service building.
Sneaker had chosen the images to send very well indeed. The video showed Mitchell talking on his cellphone, programming his car's GPS to show both where he was and where he was heading, and the gun he pulled out from under his seat, checking to be sure it was loaded. Minion got the message, loud and clear. "Mitchell's coming, and he's armed?" Snooper bowged a sharp affirmative, relieved. "What time was that video taken?" The bot projected a close-up of the car's dash, which showed the time as 3:35. "Where is he now?"
Snooper made an unhappy, almost whining sound. Minion thought hard for a moment. "You don't know — agh, that's right, the snoopers are the model Sir equipped with GPS, not the sneakers, and Sneaker's probably still out of communications range. I'll have to mention that to the boss later, it'd be better if both kinds were. Splice, go get Mr. Scott, and hurry! He can go looking for Mitchell's car faster than any of you could."
Fortunately, Wayne was nearby, helping a hired DJ set up music for the rest of the party, and Splice didn't have a hard time persuading him to follow. It took even less time for the retired hero to get the picture. "Mitchell's either on 42 or 57, if he's trying to get here fast. Unless he got stopped by police or held up some other way, he can't be more than ten or fifteen miles off."
"Can you check without giving yourself away?" Minion wondered, his flat fishy brow furrowed with concern of several types. "I don't want to bother Sir or Ms Roxanne with this, but I know you have to be careful, too."
The retired hero nodded. "Yeah, so long as I don't move so fast that I cause sonic booms or burn my clothes off and move high enough to keep from being spotted too easily, it should be okay. I'll have to check both highways, though, since he could've gone either way. It shouldn't take more than five minutes, ten, tops."
Minion fluttered his fins in a piscine version of a nod. "If you do spot him, just come back and tell me. We can call in the police and have them keep an eye out so he doesn't get this far."
Wayne fully agreed, and slipped off to a quiet, secluded area where he could take to the skies without being noticed. Minion instructed the two brainbots to keep trying to establish contact with Sneaker, just in case Mitchell managed to give Wayne the slip and made it within the bots' intercommunications range before the musician returned.
What none of them knew was that Mitchell had already done so, and Sneaker had neither given nor received a warning signal.
It was all that truly heinous creature's fault, every bit of this inhumanly awful situation. If Mitchell hadn't believed it before, he did now. The very idea that Megamind had dared to even try to force Roxanne into marrying him was so intensely revolting to him, he didn't think there could be a punishment truly suitable for such an atrocious crime of willful degradation, of true bestiality. He was so fixated on the idea of putting an end to all of this, to saving his poor, abused, deluded Roxanne from what certainly had to be a living nightmare, he came perilously close to being slowed down yet again by the traitorous police. When he saw the lights go off on a sheriff's patrol car that had been hiding under the span of a road that arched over the expressway, he'd thought at first that it was coming for him, but it nabbed another car going slightly faster instead.
After that, Mitchell was careful, very careful. He kept an eye on his radar detector, slowed whenever it caught anything within range, sped only when he knew it would be safe. He was determined to rescue Roxanne from the clutches of that alien monster, but being hindered by over-zealous police bent on harassing him with speeding tickets would only delay him, and that he would not suffer. He hurried, but with crafty caution.
The one delay he could not avoid was the need to stop for gas. When he could no longer use the expressway and was back on a stretch of ordinary country highway, the gauge was just barely above empty. He had yet to cross the bridge to the upper peninsula, so he knew he didn't have enough fuel to make it the rest of the way to his objective. He stopped at the next gas station in some nameless little bump in the road town, and decided the controllably brief break was a good thing. He'd been tense and sitting for so long, his joints and muscles were protesting, and he realized he couldn't be of much help to Roxanne if he reached his goal and fell flat on his face because he'd stiffened up so badly.
The antiquated small town station didn't have pay-at-the-pump options, so he was forced to stretch his legs a bit more to go inside to pay. While there, he grabbed a cup of coffee, figuring the extra jolt of caffeine would help keep him focused. On his way back to the car, however, a wasp came buzzing at him, and in his efforts to avoid being stung, he wound up spilling half of the dark liquid on the front of his tan slacks. It had the misfortune of hitting him right on the crotch, not hot enough to burn, but making a splotch large and dark enough to be terribly embarrassing.
Mitchell may have been in an insanity-driven rush, but he was not about to show up to rescue Roxanne looking like a piece of filthy trash who'd soiled himself. He angrily wasted a few minutes more, grabbing a clean pair of pants from his hastily-packed bag and going into the station's restroom to change. When he returned to the car, he didn't bother to return the wet slacks to his bag where they might ruin something else; he simply tossed them into the back, letting them spread out to dry.
And that was how he discovered he wasn't alone.
When he saw the strange, large hump under the cloth that shouldn't have been there, he started slightly, until he remembered that Megamind was able to make things appear more or less invisible. He got into the car quickly, closing the doors and locking them before pulling back onto the road. Adjusting the rearview mirror slightly, he watched the hump out of the corner of his eye, and sure enough, he could see a strange distortion, about the size and shape of one of the criminal's robotic slaves.
Mitchell didn't know how long he'd been under surveillance, but he was sure it had begun before he'd left Metro City. It had probably been going on ever since he had first befriended Roxanne months ago, and had helped her begin to see how she had been suffering abuse at the alien's hands for so many years. Knowing that he was being watched made him furious; it increased his determination to see that blue monster brought to justice and Roxanne freed from his selfish and cruel domination. No, he didn't know how long this had been happening, but Mitchell knew exactly how long it would continue.
When he was away from gas station, he turned onto a smaller road that led into a deserted stretch of farm fields currently tall with corn. And when he was out of sight of any other vehicle or building, he hit the brakes and swiftly pulled out his gun, unloading its full clip into the hiding brainbot. It shrieked in electronic agony and tried to lunge for him, but he was firing at point-blank range, and not a shot missed its mark. The thing collapsed back onto the bench seat, now visible, and quite obviously dead. Mitchell took a few more shots at its darkened carcass just to be sure.
With that disgusting thing taken care of, he faced forward again, popped out the spent ammunition cartridge and replaced it with a fresh one. A shame about the damage to the back seat, he reflected — it would certainly reduce the car's value when he got rid of it — but it was a small price to pay in the cause of true love. At least he was now sure that the pistol was in good operating condition, and his aim was still sharp and accurate.
Thus it was that when Wayne took off in search of Mitchell's car, he was already too late. The insane producer had arrived ten minutes earlier, had seen the sign on the street about the park being closed for a wedding as he passed through town, and had found his quarry.
When Roxanne parted ways with Minion, the only thought on her mind was the need to use the restroom before she drank another drop of anything liquid. She'd had her share of champagne and wine with dinner, but she'd been careful to balance her alcohol intake with water and other liquids, not wanting to get either drunk or dehydrated. Her preventive measures hadn't been quite so kind to her bladder, and she didn't want to run the risk of insulting anyone by failing to acknowledge the toasts with a small sip of something, even plain water because she hadn't bothered to visit the privy.
She also understood the town's desire to hide homely utilitarian buildings behind decorative trees and shrubbery, but at the moment, she wished this effort hadn't placed the washrooms quite so far from the festivities! Now out of sight of the guests and staff, she hiked up her skirts just a bit and ran the last ten yards to restrooms.
The place was empty, clean but dimly lit, relying on light from the frosted window to illuminate the interior, as it was open only as long as the park, which closed at dusk. As she stepped into one of the two stalls, Roxanne blessed Minion for designing a dress that while beautiful and elegant was also eminently practical when it came to moving about and relieving oneself. She recalled a wedding about five years back for which she'd been a bridesmaid; the bride and groom — friends who had since moved out of state — had been into Civil War reenacting, and the bride had insisted on proper period gowns for herself and all her attendants. Roxanne had thought the torture of an old-fashioned corset was bad enough — she'd barely been able to breathe or bend in it — but that and the wide hoop skirt had made movement nearly impossible. Standing up and sitting down on even an ordinary chair had been a struggle, and using public restroom facilities had been an absolute nightmare. Since then, she'd vowed never to get roped into anything so fashionably uncomfortable again.
Happily, Minion hadn't thought of anything so foolish. Yes, there was a bit of light boning in the strapless bodice of this design, but it was highly flexible and used sparingly, just enough for that part of the dress to hold its proper shape and be attractive, not enough to be uncomfortable in any way. The layered tea-length skirt had fullness and sweep to it, but didn't require layers of crinoline or petticoats or a hoop to achieve its shape, and it cooperated quite nicely with such things as sitting, moving through doorways, and backing into a restroom stall. Truly, Minion had done so much to make this dress and this whole day special for her, she promised herself that if there was anything she could ever do that could possibly repay him, she would.
After finishing her business, Roxanne made sure her skirts were properly back in place before leaving the stall, just in case someone else came in while she was washing her hands. She stepped over to the sink, turned on the taps, and was about to put her hands under the water when she noticed a lack of soap on the small counter. There was no obvious fixture or soap dish, and she wondered if perhaps an ordinary pump bottle had been accidentally knocked off by an earlier visitor. She bent a bit to see if she could spot anything of the sort on the floor, first bending to the right, then—
Something hit her on the back of the head, hard enough to make her eyes flare with lights that weren't there, enough to make a veritable tsunami of dizziness and disorientation take hold of her conscious mind and leave her swimming in a sea of quicksand, struggling to see, to hear, to feel anything clearly. She heard a noise — what was it? A car backfiring outside? Something metal hitting metal? Quarreling brainbots? Gunfire?
She didn't have time to figure it out before she was dragged away from the sink, staggering as her head spun and the world threatened to tip out from under her feet. Between the dimness of the room and her blurry vertigo, she couldn't see anything clearly, couldn't even be quite sure what she was feeling. She knew she was being pushed, but by whom or why she didn't know, and fight as she might to make her senses settle down, the dizziness persisted.
Suddenly, she felt something in her mouth, making breathing difficult. She wondered if she might be vomiting, but the sensation was followed by something being tightly wrapped around her jaw, too tightly. She tried to reach up to pull it away, but the movement was feeble for the moment; then something was tugging her hand back, both of them, binding them together behind her.
Now, that was a sensation she knew entirely too well, and this felt nothing at all like the expert kind of restraint she'd experienced for too many years in Megamind's kidnappings. It was clumsy, hurried, awkward, and the moment instinct told her what was happening — that this was no game being played by someone who had promised to never hurt her — adrenaline surged into her system. The dizziness began to settle, the fog to lift, and she flexed her hands and wrists in the way she knew she must while her would-be captor attempted to bind them. What drove away the last of the confusing disorientation was a voice she knew, and now loathed more than any she had ever heard.
"Oh, my darling Roxanne, I'm so glad I was able to find you in time! If you only knew all that I've been through, searching for you, the terrible things that monster's done to keep you from me, to hide you from the truth, from those who truly love you!"
The voice was filled with some sick parody of sympathy as she finally focused her eyes and saw Stewart Mitchell, standing too close as he finished tying her hands behind her back with something strangely clingy. His face was too near her own to see all of it clearly, but when she saw his eyes, she saw more than enough. There was a strange, wild light in them that Roxanne had seen in only two things: truly dangerous madmen about to demonstrate the depths of their insanity by slaughtering innocents, and rabid dogs. A shiver of fear and loathing ran up her spine as she realized that in Mitchell's eyes, she saw both.
Screaming and biting had been denied her, as he'd gagged her so tightly, she couldn't spit the thing out, try as she might. He saw her struggling to rid herself of the thing and mistook it as an attempt to speak. A twisted kind of pity now joined the insanity in his eyes. "I know, my sweet Roxanne, I didn't want to gag you, but I needed to be sure you'd hear me out and not call for that creature who's hurt you so badly, you can't even see it. But I'm going to help you, yes, like I've been helping you all these months! I heard what his sick crony just told you, how he's forcing you to take some name he made up to separate you from decent human society, but his plans to use you as his broodmare to pollute the Earth with more of his kind won't work, oh no! I'm going to save you, Roxanne my pet, you're going to be well again, and we'll be happy together...!"
For one infinite moment, the entire universe stopped, and Roxanne saw with frightening clarity the shattered pieces of Mitchell's mind, glinting and sparkling in their full revelation, like a globe of broken glass in a ray of full sunlight. And the next moment, armed with the realization that the man had well and truly gone mad, she began to struggle in earnest, pushing away from the wall where he'd shoved her, struggling to get both feet solidly under her again.
A disturbing smile twisted his face and he pressed himself against her. "Oh, darling, you do understand, don't you?" he asked eagerly, plainly misinterpreting her efforts to be free of him as some kind of warped desire. He slid his hands up her arms, over her bare shoulders, then down her torso in a far too intimate caress; had there been no gag in her mouth, Roxanne would have vomited on him in utter revulsion at his touch. He leaned his head toward hers, wanting to kiss her face since he had so effectively covered her mouth, and that was the last straw.
Driven by fear and an even more powerful disgust, Roxanne slammed her shoulder into the center of Mitchell's chest, knocking the wind out of him even as she worked to free her hands. She'd learned long ago the escape artist's trick of flexing muscles and joints while being restrained to make getting free easier; it was one of the reasons Megamind had always knocked her out first, since one couldn't take such precautions when unconscious. Mitchell had used duct tape as his "rope" of choice — he'd also employed it to gag her, too tightly. He hadn't done quite so good a job with her wrists, and her own efforts now gave her enough extra room to move and twist and finally yank one hand free.
It took her as long to achieve that as it took for Mitchell to get his breath back. When she brought up both hands — one still half-covered with the clinging tape — to push him away, he countered by slamming her back against the wall. "No, my pet, don't fight me — fight him!" he commanded in an unctuous voice. "He's the one who's been using you, abusing you, forcing himself on you, not I! You don't have to take this any longer!"
He grabbed her necklace and ripped it from her throat, not even noticing how he'd caused her to wince in pain as the metal choked her before snapping; he held it aloft like a token of victory. "You can be free of these chains that creature's shackled you with!" He flung the bit of jewelry aside and ran the same hand through her hair, a possessive caress that ended with him ripping away the flowers pinned there, pulling so hard that her scalp screamed in protest as her hair was yanked at the roots. He threw the flowers down to crush them under one foot, and when he returned his eyes to her face — dark, pupils blown, wild and hungry — Roxanne knew what he planned to do next. His hand reached for her bodice, grabbing the upper edge, pulling, tearing—
—and Roxanne's own hands came up, fingers curled into sharp-nailed claws as she drove them straight into her attacker's eyes, gouging them. Mitchell howled in painful protest, but she didn't relent. She brought up one knee as hard as she could, catching him square in the groin, then used shoulder and elbow to slam into him and send him staggering back. The moment she was free of him, she went right for the door, and when it wouldn't pull open, she found that the noise she'd heard earlier was him throwing the bolt, locking her in.
In the dimness of the room, she had to fumble a bit, first to find the latch, then to unlock it. She'd just released it and was about to pull the door open when he was on her again, grabbing her about the waist from behind. For once in her life, she really, really wished that she could scream, to get the attention of those beyond her sight. "No, Roxanne, don't do this, my darling! Can't you see, he's still using you? I only want what's best for you, for us! Let me take you somewhere safe, where you can get well again in peace, away from that horrible, evil, raping monster...!"
No, something inside Roxanne declared in icy rage the moment Mitchell dared to utter the words "raping monster" referring to the genuinely sweet man she'd married, that's the last straw!
Glad that she'd managed to free her hands and that he'd grabbed her around the waist — though his wandering hands said that he was more interested in groping than simply grabbing — she launched into a counter-attack she vividly remembered from some movie: elbow to the solar plexus, foot smash to the instep, elbow smash to the nose, fist to the groin.
Thank you, Miss Congeniality, Roxanne thought with grim satisfaction as Mitchell staggered back, releasing her as he doubled over in pain, too winded by her blows to his gut and face to actually howl. And intelligent woman that she was, she didn't linger to watch the results of her attack. She flung the door open and dashed out, running as fast as she could back toward the park, and safety.
The discussion of thermodynamics prompted by the heat of the day had ended in a jovial note with the mutual conclusion that yes, the afternoon was entirely too warm and a breeze off the lake would be most welcome for a change. Megamind had just taken off his formal jacket — all the talk about heat had made him realize there was something he could do about it for himself — and was draping it over the back of his chair for the time being when a loud, very bestial bellow drew his attention in the direction Roxanne had gone some minutes ago. He saw her returning, but not as she had gone. Her hair and dress were disheveled, her flowers gone, and she was clawing at her face as she ran, trying to pull away something gray and shiny that was covering too much of it.
Being a former criminal, Megamind recognized a duct tape gag when he saw one, and combined with his bride's harried pace and tousled appearance, he knew that something unpleasant had happened — and that someone more unpleasant had arrived on the scene. He inadvertently called her name and ran at once to help her even before any of the guests realized that something was wrong.
The reporter had just managed to get her fingertips under the tightly wound tape over her mouth as her new husband joined her; she yanked it down in a single, brusquely painful but effective move and spat out the wadded sock her assailant had stuffed into her mouth before taping it shut. "Mitchell," was all she was able to gasp out before Megamind saw the man coming and pushed his wife behind him, offering what protection he could without a weapon or one of his protective costumes.
"Get your filthy hands off her!" the lunatic screamed even as he came half-running, half-staggering toward them, his venom aimed at the blue alien who dared to stand before his woman. "She belongs with her own kind, with me, not with some disgusting, depraved monster!"
"The only disgusting and depraved monster is you, Mitchell!" said alien snarled back, his expression dark and dangerous. "I'm warning you: stay away from my wife!"
Mitchell sneered. "Wife? Not for long!" And with that, he pulled his semi-automatic pistol out from under his concealing jacket and started to fire.
One would think this that a loss of sanity might make a person's actions equally erratic, but such was often not the case. Mitchell was a fair marksman under normal circumstances; fueled by madness, he improved. He got off three rounds in quick succession, each slamming directly into Megamind's chest, where he hoped to see what he was certain had to be blue alien blood gush out as the bullets ripped his bestial heart to shreds.
When Megamind only staggered back a step but remained otherwise unharmed, Mitchell took another three shots in anger. It drove the small alien and the woman behind him back another step or two, causing Roxanne to stumble and fall as her legs came up against a chair and tangled with it.
"That's impossible!" Mitchell shrieked, then dimly remembered some rumor from last winter, noting that the city's new defender had apparently acquired the invulnerability of the retired Metro Man. He'd never believed it could be true, but that Megamind was still standing there, the brocade of his vest in shreds but still white and unbloodied, seemed to verify the rumors as true.
Megamind himself was startled by this development, since he knew perfectly well that he was most definitely not invulnerable — indeed, he felt the impact of every bullet, but dully, like being hit with a moderately-thrown softball, not a hard, fast-moving steel slug — but he didn't have the time to consider why or how this could be happening right now. The only issue that was worthy of taking up any portion of his massive brain at the moment was protecting Roxanne.
"Give it up, Mitchell!" the ex-villain commanded, wishing he had actually dared to bring his de-gun, glancing about as much as he safely could in hopes of making eye contact with one of the brainbots, all of whom seemed to have vanished. Even Minion and Wayne were nowhere to be seen. "Roxanne's made her choice! It's over!"
Total disgust caused the madman's lips to curl back from his teeth; the look in his eyes was that of a cornered, rabid cur who had nothing to lose. "That's right, it's over!" he laughed, shifting his aim. "Say goodbye to the little woman, Megamind!"
Mitchell pulled the trigger again and fired, aiming not for the blue hero but for Roxanne, having decided that his best course of action would be the old cliche: If he couldn't have her, no one would. If he couldn't persuade Roxanne to leave this alien monster of her own free will, then he would save her from worse than death in spite of herself, permanently.
Fortunately, Roxanne had seen the shot coming and was able to move just enough so that the bullet hit the lawn rather than her head. Megamind dove to grab her and roll her out of harm's way, not caring that he himself might be hurt, but Mitchell kept right on firing, and soon, there would be no place left to go to avoid the bullets—
—until suddenly, a flash of blue crackled through the air, enveloped the mad gunman, and reduced him to a small, glowing blue cube.
The sudden silence that followed was almost deafening. Both newlyweds and guests — the latter of whom had either possessed the good sense to head for the ground and take cover or were dragged there by the Thurmers and Davises the moment Mitchell's gun appeared — remained still for half a minute, then looked up to see what had happened.
And there, coming down the path from the gazebo, was Minion, his brand new de-gun in hand, the just returned Wayne a few paces behind him. The ichthyoid favored the cube that had been Mitchell with a jaundiced eye as he went to pick it up, then turned to his friends still down on the grass with a sort-of "That's that!" kind of smirk.
"Minion!" Megamind exclaimed, torn between exasperation and intensely grateful delight as he clambered to his feet and helped Roxanne to hers. "I thought you said you weren't going to bring that!" He pointed to the dark blue de-gun, still active and glowing brightly.
Minion's toothy grin widened. "Well, I changed my mind," he admitted, casually thumbing the weapon to deactivate it. "After all, I wouldn't be much of a partner if I didn't have your back today of all days, sir — now, would I?"
And as the fish whistled for the brainbots, tossing Mitchell's cube for them to play fetch with and tussle over until the police arrived, both couple and guests laughed or clapped or cheered, offering thanks and congratulations to Minion for his timely rescue, but nobody, not one person, uttered so much as a single peep of disagreement.
To be continued...