"When you're in jail, a good friend will try to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun!'" -Groucho Marx

"A loan shark?" Megamind cried. "Uncle Harry, if you needed money, why didn't you ask me?"

Harry picked at his chow mein. "Didn't know where you were," he muttered. He looked up. "I had to act fast. It was a good tip, too, a great tip!" he said, voice rising desperately. "I coulda paid him back the same day. But that horse..." His voice trailed away and his gaze dropped to the styrofoam container again. "Must've been having a bad day. It was sick or something."

Megamind shared an exasperated look with Minion.

"Which loan shark?" Minion asked.

The chair squeaked as Harry shifted his weight. "Franzetti."

Megamind's eyebrows shot up. "Julian 'Drive By' Franzetti? He's the reason Uncle Pat had to get a new knee! How much did you borrow?"

"Only a hundred."

Megamind heaved out a breath. "Oh, is that all?" he said, glancing at Minion again, with a look that said they could easily take care of this little matter. "What were the terms?"

Harry poked at the food for a while before answering. "Twenty-five percent of the winnings."

"And that amount would have been...?" Megamind prompted, making a circling motion with his hand.

Harry sighed. "Five thousand."

"What?" Minion cried. "Aw, Uncle Harry, that's...that means you owe..."

"One thousand two hundred and fifty dollars," Megamind said grimly.

"But think of the payoff," Harry said. "I woulda had over three thousand left over. If I'd won." He shrugged. "Anyway, you boys don't need to worry about it. I get paid Friday. I'll take care of it."

With WHAT? Megamind wanted to shout. What about your rent? You have a nice cardboard box to move into next? What happened to that five hundred I gave you? I can't believe you risked your kneecaps for a measly hundred bucks on cut-throat terms on a nag that probably couldn't stagger out of the gate if you set its tail on fire.

But of course he couldn't say those things to Uncle Harry, who was chewing mournfully on takeout food.

On the TV, True Grit played. John Wayne snapped, "If I ever meet one of you Texas waddies who ain't drunk water from a hoofprint, I think I'll shake their hand or buy 'em a Daniel Webster cigar."

With a sigh Megamind fell onto his back on the couch and rubbed his eyes. Well, he would pay it off, whether Uncle Harry liked it or not. Later he and Minion would knock over a couple of gas stations, find out where 'Drive By' Franzetti did business, and pay off that sorry excuse of a gangster.

There were footsteps out in the hallway.

He couldn't have said exactly why the back of his neck tingled, but he lifted his head.

There was a knock at the door. Heavy and official sounding.

He sat up, muscles tensing.

"This is the police. Open up."

Swiftly and silently, head buzzing, he darted across the room to grab the de-gun in its holster. Glancing around the apartment, his heart sank at the sight of the pest control devices, the pirated cable box, the three laptops and miniature video cam, the stolen boombox he'd collected one evening, and the duffel bag with his clothes. He'd left his mark all over the place.

He looked at Uncle Harry, who sat frozen in his chair, watery eyes wide. Uncle Harry belonged to what Megamind thought of as, if he were feeling polite, the 'older generation,' who couldn't operate a simple video phone to save their lives. Uncle Harry may have been an embezzler and a whiz with numbers, but he was also scrupulously honest in his own way, at least when confronted with the facts.

There was no way Uncle Harry would be able to pretend that all this electronic equipment was his.

There was only one possible way to get him out of this predicament.

With a grimace, Megamind mouthed "sorry" and dehydrated him.

Minion, who had been attempting to stuff more clothes into the duffel bag, turned in surprise. Megamind, half expecting the cops to break down the door at the sound of the de-gun firing was already dashing for the bathroom fire escape, but fortunately the television covered the sound of it.

Another louder, more impatient knock sounded as he yanked at the window. It went up about three inches, and got stuck.

"Open up, police!"

Minion put his arms around him and wrenched the window open with a screeching of wood. Megamind leaped onto the fire escape. It would take Minion several seconds to squeeze his big shoulders through, so he would shoot the frame around it to make the opening bigger. He felt a flicker of guilt about wrecking Harry's chance of getting his security deposit back.

"Freeze!"

Megamind froze.

Four cops were in the alley below. Four gun barrels stared up at him. They got the drop on him. He'd always wondered about that phrase. Well, he felt well and truly dropped, as his heart felt like it had dropped into his stomach.

"Hands up! Drop your weapon!"

Megamind, feeling like targets had sprung up all over him, let the de-gun dangle from one finger before letting it fall.

The apartment door crashed open. "Freeze! Hands up!"

"Already did," Megamind grumbled.

The incoming cops ordered them out of the cramped bathroom and they shuffled out.

There was hardly any more room in the apartment with all the cops milling around. Megamind recognized the fat one in plain clothes, the inspector who had given him into Corbin's custody.

"You gave us a pretty good run, son," said Inspector Buford. "It's over now."

"Whatever you say," Megamind said. A diabolical smirk would have been appropriate at this point, but he couldn't quite manage it.

They frisked and cuffed him, after which there was a discussion about what to do with Minion. Two officers kept their guns trained on the containment unit.

"We can't cuff him, can we?" one of them said. "He'd just break 'em."

"Maybe we can pop the fish bowl off. How'd you guys get it off before? When Metro Man pulled him out of the sewer?" asked a cop wearing latex gloves, pulling aside the sofa cushions. He found Corbin's gun and lifted it to show the inspector. Two others were sifting through Harry's boxes while others poked in the cupboards.

"I think those feds did it."

"Anybody see how?"

The officers exchanged looks. One of the cops holding a gun on Minion looked much too jumpy for Megamind's comfort. Every time Minion moved a fin, the cop adjusted his grip and rocked from side to side as if getting ready to dodge.

Minion, his hands against the ceiling, turned slightly in his bowl. "It's easy to unlock," he said. "There's a groove here," he nodded down at the robotic neckline. "With a lever."

"I'm not reachin' in there," snapped the trigger-happy cop.

Megamind cleared his throat. "If you free my hands, I will remove him from the robot suit."

The cop shot him a glare. "Yeah, right! You'll probably give him a secret code or somethin'. Set off a self-destruct button or somethin'."

Some people watched too many sci-fi movies. Megamind had never understood the nihilistic tendencies of sci-fi villains to stick self-destruct buttons on everything. "I'm not going to blow him up, or myself for that matter. That would be counterproductive. It's a simple matter to disconnect the containment unit. Will you let me, Inspector?"

Inspector Buford nodded and one cuff was unlocked so his hands were free.

One cop kept a gun pressed into Megamind's back as he walked over to Minion.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it a little further away," Megamind said. "It's hard to concentrate when I have to worry about getting blown away if you trip."

"Back off," Buford told the officer. "He's not going anywhere."

Megamind reached up, the handcuffs dangling from his wrist, very cautiously so as not to cause alarm. Reaching into the groove, he held down the lever while depressing the release button. The containment unit came loose with a dull thunk.

Immediately the tip of the gun pressed into his back again. "It's just the locking mechanism disconnecting," he said, hands on the containment unit to keep it from falling.

"Give the fish to Officer Hume," said Inspector Buford.

Megamind lifted Minion down. {"Have any more hidden suprises?"} he murmured in Ahrini.

Minion's spines drooped. {"Sorry, didn't have time."}

The gun jabbed Megamind. "No talking!" the cop snapped.

The cop tucked Minion into the crook of his arm, rather carelessly, Megamind thought.

The robotic arms drifted down and the suit became still. The cops finally relaxed enough to put their guns away. Clearly they hadn't gotten word that Minion could control the robot body from a short distance. Megamind toyed with the idea of telling Minion to use the robot suit to punch the nearest trigger-happy cop, but that would really be asking for it.

"What's this?" Buford asked, prodding the blue cube with his toe.

"The renter," Megamind said. "I dehydrated him when I took over the apartment."

Buford regarded him in silence for a moment. "Rehydrate him," he said, and handed him a plastic cup.

Megamind dripped water onto the cube and Harry reappeared.

"Are you Harry Chambers?" asked the inspector. Harry nodded.

"And you're the victim of a home invasion?" Buford asked dryly.

Harry met Megamind's gaze, who gave him a little tilt of the head, waggled his eyebrows slightly, and attempted to coach Harry into answering in the affirmative, which was difficult to do with so many officers of the law glaring at them.

Harry looked at the floor and shook his head.

Megamind sniffed. "He must be confused. He..."

"Knock it off," said Buford. "We know he's one of your uncles."

They cuffed Harry too, read them their rights, and took them away. Minion's robot suit was brought out later on a trolley.

Three hours later, the warden came to see his runaway. As he followed an officer down the echoing halls of the holding cells he thought about what he was going to say.

Are you all right? What were you thinking? Did you really think you'd keep out of the hands of the law? I'll do better, Blue, I can help you. I'm sorry I put you in solitary. I'll make sure you get to school, find employment, have a future that doesn't involve being stuck in a cell the rest of your life. Just ignore everything that happened the last fifteen years and leave it to me.

Parker sighed. He didn't think he would believe him either, if he were Blue.

They stopped at the cell. Blue was, not surprisingly, wearing a groove in the floor with his pacing, but he stopped agitating around when he saw the warden.

Fidgeting over to one of the walls he stood with his back to it and wrapped his arms tight around his middle.

Parker looked him over as the officer got the cell open. Blue wore a gray, short-sleeved uniform from juvenile hall. Parker wondered if he was cold.

The boy looked taller than he remembered, seemed harder, more...

"So where's Minion?" The words came out harshly, ending Parker's attempt at reflection.

"Sitting on the inspector's desk." Minion was currently wedged between a short stack of files and a bowling trophy, looking as miserable and defiant as only he could.

Blue sighed and closed his eyes. He jerked his chin at the departing officer. "One of them said they were going to take him to the pound."

"He's fine. I just saw him upstairs. He'll be coming home with me."

Blue dropped onto the cot. "So when do I get to go back to your cage?"

Parker had lectured himself, repeatedly, to be calm, but he felt his hackles rising. Every time he thought he could take whatever the kid had to dish out, Blue found another button to push. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "There's going to be a hearing. To decide what to do with you."

The boy's hand tightened on his upper arm. "You mean I might not get to come home? I thought..." He swallowed and licked his lips. "Where... where would they send me?"

Parker wanted to hug him but he put his hands in his pockets instead. "There's talk of juvenile hall. Here in Metro City."

The boy's worried expression relaxed slightly. "Oh," he said, exhaling. "I guess that's not so bad." He lifted his hand to rub his head and that's when Parker saw the white lines that slashed across most of his left forearm.

Two quick steps forward and he grabbed Blue's arm, seizing him by elbow and wrist. "What happened here?" he cried.

Blue drew back, startled. "Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing! Did he cut you?"

The boy blinked. "Who?"

"Agent Corbin, damn it, who do you think? Is that why that man is practically in a coma? He hurt you, so you set Psycho Delic on him?"

The boy drew a sharp breath and his eyes widened. "I wouldn't go near that sicko if you paid me!" he said, jerking his arm away. "I didn't mean for him to get loose. I only..." He stopped and clamped his mouth shut, looking away.

Parker searched his face. "But the DPI leak. That was you, wasn't it?"

Blue set his jaw. Stubbornly he glared at some distant point on the far wall, hiding his scarred arm under the other.

Now Parker wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled. He walked slowly across the small space to the cell entrance.

The prisoner in the cell across the hall lay on his cot, foot waving back and forth. Down the hall, other prisoners coughed, talked. Guards' footsteps echoed, doors clanged open and shut.

Blue's shock and revulsion had been genuine. Parker felt some relief at that. He didn't know why it was so important, but it was. At least the boy hadn't caused a man to literally lose his mind just for...for rev-ahnge. Not on purpose, anyway. Whatever Blue had done, Parker was still convinced that he'd done it to protect himself.

What did he do to you? he wanted to ask. Those looked like knife cuts to him. He'd heard some nasty rumors about Corbin, and the switchblade he carried.

Parker looked at Blue, chin held high and glaring at the wall, and despaired of ever finding out the full story. His heart ached. Blue didn't trust him.

Parker went over and sat next to him. He even dared to put his hand on the boy's shoulder. He expected Blue to shrug him off, but amazingly, the boy just shot him an angry glance and looked away again.

"You're not alone, son," Parker said quietly. "It's not just you and Minion against the world. You must believe that. I want to help. Things haven't been easy, but they're going to be different now. I'm going to adopt the both of you. You and Minion. You're part of my family. Don't think that you have to put on this..."

"Did the Scotts say it was all right?" Blue gave him a cool look.

The words died in Parker's mouth. He took his hand away.

One eyebrow lifted slightly on the high blue forehead. "Better check with your meal ticket first, to make sure they approve."

Parker's heartbeat filled his ears. He knows. All this time, I wanted to protect him. He didn't know about the Scotts funding his upkeep because I didn't think he needed to know. How would I possibly put it? That he'd been kept in prison because the Scotts wanted him there, and the city wanted him there because everyone believed he was a danger, and I thought it was the safest place for him to be? Which, now that he really thought about it, didn't make him sound any better than the Scotts.

The silence stretched and threatened to solidify into an unbreachable wall.

Parker said, "I don't see a penny of that money. Not one red cent. I mail a monthly expense report to the law office and they take care of it. There's a fund." Parker searched Blue's face, willing him to understand.

Or at least there had been a fund. The Scotts had formally let him know that Blue was a problem for the taxpayers now, and the fund was suspended. For the moment, it was a little too complicated to go into all that.

He'd been assured that it was an act of charity on the part of the Scotts, but now he wasn't so sure. He had a nagging suspicion that Lord Scott had his own ideas about how things ought to go, and that he might decide to change the rules.

Everything came with a price. Parker wondered if the boy was the one who would pay it. Parker wished he'd asked more questions, but at the time that Lord Scott's attorney paid him a visit to arrange matters all those years ago, it seemed a miracle, a financial burden taken off his shoulders. The problem was that no matter how cynical Parker was, he probably hadn't been cynical enough.

The boy's face remained shut, locking him out. Parker tried again. "There were people trying to take you away," he said. "I didn't dare bring you home. I needed help. The expense of providing for you was..."

His voice trailed away. He was saying it all wrong. If anything, the boy's face became even more closed off, as if another door had slammed shut.

The blue lips stretched into a thin smile. "I understand perfectly, warden. It was too expensive. Too much trouble. You needn't worry about me anymore. I'll be fine."

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Parker asked. It was difficult to keep his voice calm. "I'm going to adopt you. I can take care of both of you better if..."

Blue got to his feet. "If you're expecting me to fall into your arms weeping with gratitude, then I'm afraid that you'll be waiting a very long time. I can take care of myself. And Minion, too. I don't need you and I never will."

Parker got up. "I don't blame you for being angry, Blue. Can't we sit down and talk about this?"

"It's Megamind, warden. Blue is a name for faithful old hound dogs." He chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, I can't stand to see such a sad face. All right," he said, flinging his hands up in the air. "Go ahead and fill out whatever little scraps of paper you want. It makes no difference to me."

Parker turned away, biting his lip. He struggled to find something else to say, then gave up.

Maybe tomorrow, after the boy had some time to cool off, he'd be willing to talk.

He hailed the guard. "I'll see you tomorrow at eleven, for the hearing."

"Tolliver will be there, too, I suppose?" Blue said with a sniff. "How is the old battle ax?"

"I don't know. She's the Scotts' lawyer, and they've decided not to support us anymore. I've had to find another, name of Neville Strunk."

Blue's smirk faded slightly. "Is this Strunk any good?"

Parker studied the boy's slightly anxious face. "Guess we'll find out."

As the cell was opened, Blue stepped toward him. "Wait." He rubbed his arm. "Um. Will you bring Minion?" He gave Parker a sideways look that was a strange mixture of pleading and arrogance, unhappy about having to ask a favor after his big independence speech.

Wow, guess you still need me a little after all, huh? Parker bit back the sarcasm, but he savored the feeling, just for a second, and felt a little ashamed of himself. It would be mean and petty to rub it in. "I'll try. I don't know if they'll allow him in the courthouse."

"He's not an animal, you know," Blue said, eyes flashing.

"Of course I know. The trouble is not everybody does."

The next day, the boy's evil smile was once again firmly in place, and he made his displeasure at Parker's failure to bring Minion known.

"Didn't try all that hard, did you?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Parker said. "The clerk said I'd have to get a special permit and there wasn't time for the paperwork to go through. Only service animals are allowed in the building."

Damn, he should have said that Minion was one of those companion animals that eased psychological trauma. It wouldn't have been that far from the truth.

Parker had gotten the silent treatment from Minion about it, too. Minion had wanted to come along in the car, on the chance that the courthouse would let him in, but Parker was worried they'd refuse, and then what was he supposed to do with him? Stick him in the trunk?

He'd gotten an aquarium for Minion at home, and it was damned expensive, too, getting one big enough. The containment unit was barely bigger than Minion himself, but without the robot suit he was so restricted in his movements that Parker wanted him to have a tank big enough in which he'd be able to turn around without bumping his nose. But he didn't want Minion to be alone at the house all day, so this morning he brought the little ichthyoid back to the old tank in the prison office.

Lawyer Strunk had phoned to say he'd be a little late, but not to worry, he'd get there. Strunk had been late for his first meeting with Parker, too, which was a worrying trend.

The judge, it turned out, had some very strong opinions about the current situation.

"And you decided this was a suitable environment for John?" the judge asked. "To be raised in a prison surrounded by hardened criminals?"

For a moment Parker couldn't figure out who the judge was talking about, then he remembered that 'John' was Blue's legal name. "Well, you see, your honor, there were a number of extenuating circumstances which..."

"Yes, I've read some of your claims," said the judge, placing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on the end of his hooked nose. "You believed the boy was a target of various groups, including one of the largest, most respectable pharmaceutical companies in our country, which you seemed to think wanted to kidnap him. As well as your claim that our own government sent federal agents to steal him away from you." He peered at the warden over the glasses. "You'll have to forgive my skepticism."

"I have witnesses, your honor. The FBI tried to seize custody of him when he was little. It's all documented." Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the boy look at him. Surprised, maybe? Reconsidering his opinion of me? That would be nice, though Parker wasn't going to hold his breath. "If you'll see Miranda Tolliver's report on the night that..."

"Mister Parker, as of this moment there are four files in my chambers relating to this case. Four, each of them this thick!" He held his thumb and forefinger about three or four inches apart. "I don't see how I can be expected to wade through all of this," the judge grumbled. "What about his education?"

"Well, that hasn't gone as well as it should, but, your honor, he practically taught himself to read," said the warden, with a burning sense of shame that he hadn't tried a little harder to get some decent schooling for the boy. "I think if the right sort of..."

"And opportunities for socialization? His actions show he has no regard for other people's personal space or possessions. The sheer number of crimes that John has committed does not surprise me in the slightest. If this is your idea of raising a solid citizen, I shudder to think what would have happened it you'd tried to produce a criminal!"

Though the judge was asking plenty of questions, he seemed determined to prevent Parker from fully answering any of them.

"And what about this robot? Controlled by some kind of mutant piranha."

"That's Minion, your honor. He's not a piranha, he's..." Helplessly, he looked at Blue.

"He's an Ah-Kho, your judginess. A sentient ichthyoid from Ah-Ri, our home planet," said Blue, clasping his cuffed hands on the table.

Parker stared at him. First he ever heard of it.

The judge peered at Blue over his spectacles, then looked down at his papers.

"An Ah-Kho from Ah-Ri. Of course," he said. "Young man, you will address me as 'your honor,' not 'your judginess.' One troubling aspect of this bizarre case is the fallacy that this boy and the fish came from a galaxy far, far away."

"Not a different galaxy," said Blue. "Just a different solar system."

The judge removed his glasses and leaned over the bench to address Parker. "Tabloid nonsense. Even the boy himself seems to believe it. Why has there never been an investigation into his true origins?"

Parker shook his head. "I don't...but...I saw it for myself. The spacepod, it landed right..."

"And where is this spacepod?"

Parker sighed. "The FBI confiscated it." Or it might even have been DPI. Parker couldn't remember if DPI had been in existence fifteen years ago. There had been a large number of black-suited men roaming the prison. He thought he had a report of it somewhere in his filing cabinet.

Damn that Strunk, where was he?

"Again, we return to the conspiracy theory. Inasmuch as I have been able to untangle this mess, this is what I am left to deal with: an orphan child, origin unknown, who has been hidden from the world for his entire life, presumably to protect the public, and apparently these fears have not been unfounded." The judge fixed a scowl on Blue.

The boy gave him a bright smile.

The judge's face turned red. "Once free, he proceeds to run rampant for several months, creating fear and havoc in the general populace. Countless muggings at gunpoint, carjackings, kidnappings, assaults on officers of the law, well, the list goes on and on. Can't imagine how any other outcome to this sorry state of affairs could have happened," the judge grumbled, turning the scowl on Parker. "John Doe will be housed in the Metro City Juvenile Correctional Facility, until such time as he can be brought to trial."

Two bailiffs came over. One of them took Blue's arm.

Blue's smug expression faded. He glanced at Parker, then looked away, but the warden caught the hint of anxiety in his eyes.

Parker asked the bailiff, "Is he going right away? Can I wait with him?"

The man nodded. "There's six more juvenile cases. The van will probably leave about two-thirty. Just ask at the desk, they'll show you where to go. But he has to come with us first, sir."

"One moment, Mister Parker," said the judge. "There's another matter."

The judge shuffled a few papers around while Blue was escorted from the room. He glanced at the door as it closed behind Blue and the bailiffs, then put his glasses on the end of his nose again. "I thought it would be best to talk about this between the two of us, spare the boy, all that." He cleared his throat.

"Aside from all other considerations, it baffles me why you let John keep such a vicious animal for a pet. I'm given to understand that it has bitten a number of people over the years?"

Parker had to admit that this was true. "Yes, your honor, but always in self defense. He's very protective."

The judge sighed. "An attack fish. Now I've heard everything. What's more, you allowed the boy to build it a robot suit? So that it could cause even more damage? A testament to his genius, but extremely irresponsible. This is one matter, at least, which I can rectify immediately. You will turn the fish over to animal control for humane disposal."

With that, he brought down the gavel.