The Comfy Mountain Motel is also a real place (but I changed the name because of reasons). So is the museum they stop at later, but I took a bunch of liberties with that one because (a) I couldn't find details on what it actually has there and (b) the scene was originally written for a different museum all the way back in Colorado. Oh, and credit where it's due, this scene was entirely Karen's idea. Brilliant! Brilliant, I say!
Remember how I said I'd post whatever the voice rec software spit out if I ever sneezed into my microphone? "do me shif the fact that the pitch shift 6 if a rope"
We finally get where we're going! Again, thank you, KarenBJones, for the car trouble ideas and the bit with the turquoise. So much fun. And we finally get to meet Drew, who is also so much fun. We get to meet Linda, too, but whether she is fun remains to be seen…We're also getting into the parts I have pre-written, so with any luck updates will be a little faster coming. ^^; Sorry to keep everybody waiting, I really am!
So I'm in the USA. And on Thursday, we had Thanksgiving! Abraham Lincoln declared it an official holiday back in 1863, and the general idea is that you try to get together with people you care about and think about everything you're thankful for. Also, for some reason, turkey has become the traditional main course at dinner. I'm not entirely sure why that is. Anyway, my point is! I'm thankful for you fine folks. Anybody who reads this, I'm thankful you're here on this planet (or if you're picking up Earth's internet signal from someplace else, I'm thankful for you, too) and I just want to say that whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever you believe—I'm glad you're here and that we can share this together. Peace and blessings to you, and may it be that you and yours are safe and well.
As far as Megamind and this fic are concerned, I still own nothing. Well, I own Drew. But that's about it.
Chapter 6
Nevada
1:30 AM EST
10:30PM MST
He's seeing signs for Battle Mountain when the car starts making odd rumbling noises. The engine is half-combustible, half-hydrogen cascading, and he pulls over without a second thought because never the twain shall meet, or they shall meet and generate rather more shrapnel than is healthy for most creatures without titanium exoskeletons. As neither he nor his mate are currently in possession of titanium exoskeletons, he would much prefer that the two fuels remain separate.
Roxanne does not appreciate being woken up, but as soon as Megamind tells her there's something wrong with the car she's awake and asking questions. "Is it going to be okay? Where are we? Can you fix it?"
"I don't know, we're in Nevada, and probably." He shrugs. "If I can't fix it, I can disassemble the jet pack in the trunk and jury-rig it to the de-gun to get us to Austin, which according to the GPS isn't too far down the road."
She blinks owlishly at him. "Do you need any help?"
"No, I should be fine. If I need you, I'll come get you." He gives her an encouraging smile.
The smile is too optimistic. She can tell he's faking, and she groans and puts on her boots and fumbles around the floor for her gloves. "I'll come hold the flashlight for you."
Megamind's smile flashes white in the dark interior of the car; he leans over the console and darts his head forward, brushes dry lips against her cheek. "Thanks."
She keeps her jaw clamped tightly shut and one arm like a bar across her chest as she holds the flashlight high in the dark so that he can see while he rattles around under the hood. It's freezing outside, and unfortunately there is a breeze here that wasn't present back at the salt flats and the wind blows right through her. Her coat wasn't designed for this. Her gloves were not designed for this. It's all she can do to keep her teeth from chattering, but she manages because if she knows if she starts Megamind will try to insist she get back in the car and she doesn't feel like bickering with him right now.
And she won't complain because he left his scarf in the car and he's had to take his gloves off to tinker with some fiddly bits under the hood, and as cold as she is, as cold as he is usually, his hands must be freezing off right now.
They're out there for nearly ten minutes. Roxanne's arm has gone to sleep by the time Megamind slams the hood closed and says, "C'mon, let's get b-back in the car."
They jump back inside, both of them shivering, both sets of teeth now clicking freely, Roxanne with her hands in her pockets and Megamind cradling his against his chest and slamming the door behind him with his foot. She is deeply relieved to see him turn the key in the ignition. Less relieved that it takes him two tries to grip the key. "Your h-hands," she chatters. "G-give me your hands."
Sure enough, his long fingers are like ice. She presses them between her own—which aren't that much warmer than his at the moment—and rubs her palms quickly back and forth, uses friction and her slightly higher temperature to bring the circulation back. It helps dispel the numbness in her own hands as well, and when she brings their joined hands to her mouth to exhale hotly against them before resuming rubbing, he hums gratefully.
"I know sometimes y-you're a little too warm for me," he mumbles at her, "but I've decided that may in f-fact be a good thing."
"So what happened to the car?" she asks. "Are we okay?"
"Something happened to the hydrogen component, but nothing's broken. I've disabled it for the time being; she'll be good to get us down the road to Austin," he says, crawling across the seat to cuddle fully into her shoulder; she lifts an arm and he ducks under it so he can turn and lean back against her chest. She doesn't let go of his hands. "Shouldn't be m-more than an hour, but I want to take it slow. We can't take her higher than two thousand RPM. Mm. Thank you."
This when she shoves her nose into his half-frozen neck. "I'm not starting a-anything."
"I know. I'm just cold, and you're very warm, and. And, in general, thank you."
She hugs him hard against her, using his body weight like an extra blanket because he may not be as warm as she is but he's still a darned sight warmer than the air around them. "What's in Austin?"
"A hotel with a vacancy, if we're lucky." He pauses, and she knows him well enough to know he's scowling. "I'd wanted to drive straight through, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen. I'm sorry."
She cranes her head around and kisses his ear. "Car trouble isn't your fault."
"Yes, well, I built this accurséd machine, so that may not be entirely accurate." He makes a grumbling noise and scoots back into the driver's seat, puts the car in gear. "The bad news is that if it starts making that sound again, we'll have to turn off the heat."
"Oh, that'll be fun."
They get about a half-hour out of the car before he reaches out and switches the dial to zero. He doesn't say anything, but Roxanne reaches in the back and pulls the extra blanket into the front seat, prods him to lean forward so she can bundle it around his shoulders.
Their shoulders, he realizes when she unbuckles her seat belt and snuggles in against his side, tugging the blanket tighter around the two of them, and he takes a hand off the wheel so he can wrap his arm around her waist and tuck his fingers tightly between his cooler thigh and her burningly warm one. He knows he should tell her to put her belt back on, get back on her own side; he's too cold for her and she should keep as much body heat as she can to herself and driving unbelted isn't safe.
But she really is warm and he's very certain that he'll never get tired of snuggles as long as he lives, and this whole thing is so completely beyond everything he'd even dared hope to find in life until about a year ago that he can't help but be a little selfish. He turns his head without looking away from the road and kisses her hair, and she wriggles her shoulders and burrows in and hums and shuts her eyes.
They crawl hopefully towards the possibility of a motel.
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Austin, Nevada
4:02 AM EST
1:02 AM Pacific Time
The Comfy Mountain Motel certainly lives up to its name, although at this point both Megamind and Roxanne are ready to sing the praises of anything warm no matter how small the rooms are. The motel is made of what looks like three mobile units placed in covered wagon configuration facing the road, but despite Roxanne's sleepy mumbled aspersions their room is immaculately clean and the bed into which they crawl is surprisingly comfortable. Megamind awards the motel bonus points shortly before he passes out.
In the morning, he wakes to the sound of high-pitched laughter and a chittering laugh track, a lispingly enthusiastic child's voice and over-done sound effects. Roxanne has the television on.
He sniffs and sits up, but what's on TV looks like a G-rated acid trip in addition to sounding like one. Roxanne has her knees drawn to her chest and is hugging her feet with a nostalgic smile on her face. Megamind blinks at her and scrubs his hands down his face. He's slept longer than he usually does: nearly six hours. "What are you watching?"
"Sesame Street. You ever watch this as a kid?"
Megamind gazes for a moment at the little red monster capering around on the screen. "I think they tried to get me into this once. It didn't take. Is that man washing his elbows?"
She smiles. "That's Mr. Noodle. He's supposed to make kids think they're smarter than grown-ups."
"Wow," he says, staring. "Is he ever going to find his hands?"
"This is like the fourth time—"
From the next room over, a deep, masculine voice lets out a frustrated yell. "Goddammit, Mr. Noodle!"
Roxanne bursts into peals of mirth, probably at the look on Megamind's face as much as their neighbor's outburst. "He's why I started watching this in the first place."
"Yes, and since when do you wake up before I do?" he asks. "Did you sleep all right?"
"Are you kidding? I slept great; this bed is amazing. We need to find out what's on it and get one for the Lair." She pats the mattress fondly, then shoots him an amused glance and frowns in mock reproach. "But I wasn't the only one who got a good sleep. Someone—and I won't say who—was purring really, really loudly for what I think might have been a couple hours." She grins at him. "I had an absolutely amazing dream about motorboats, thanks to you. Whirrrrrr."
Megamind snorts in the middle of a yawn and ends up sounding like he's about to cough up a hairball, which starts Roxanne laughing again. He sniffs and colors, then swings out of bed to hide his embarrassment and blinks down at his boots. Apparently he hadn't even taken off his shoes before falling asleep. Since when does he just lose consciousness like that? "Well, I'm going to go see about the car, see if I can fix it."
His girlfriend stretches and smiles at him. "I went and looked at it a little while ago. I think the hydro exhaust valves got stuck; there was a bunch of gunk built up around—"
He goes rigid, his faintly good mood extinguished. "You opened the hydrogen section of the engine?"
"I relubricated them, though, so they should be okay now. I think the problem was mostly that we didn't let the car warm up before we got back on the highway after the salt flats, so the congealed—"
"That is dangerous," he says without turning around. "You could have been killed."
There's a pause. "I was careful."
"Careful doesn't cut it!" he snaps, twisting around and staring at her in alarm. "Breaking the seal without electrocuting yourself is almost impossible if you don't know exactly what you're doing!"
She raises her eyebrows and puts a calming hand over his. "Who fixes your brainbots?"
He pulls his hand away, irritated and confused. "What does that have to do with—"
"And how are they sealed?"
Comprehension dawns. She sees it and nods. "Right: the same way you seal everything. Face it, Megamind," she says, and pokes him gently in the chest with a finger, "you're predictable."
He grabs the finger before she can pull away, smiling reluctantly. "Not so predictable that you should stake your life on my designs. Please."
"If I hadn't recognized your design, I wouldn't have opened it," she tells him. "I do actually know what I'm doing."
"Please," he says again, urgently this time. "Don't think I'm not impressed, because I am. Very impressed and proud that you troubleshot a modified hydrogen fuel cell without dying. You are smart, you're brilliant; I am the luckiest man alive—" He lets go of her finger, then surges forward and clunks his head against hers hard enough to make a noise. "—But for my sake, for my peace of mind, please ask before cracking open or disassembling stuff that you know can kill you if you didn't at least help me put it together."
She sits back, rubbing her forehead and frowning a little at him. "Okay. Also, ow, Megamind, what gives?"
He winces and flutters a hand towards her before dropping it into his lap and opting for an overly-apologetic facial expression instead.
"No, it's okay, just…" She tilts her head, peering at him curiously. "Does the forehead thing actually mean something to you, then?"
"What—you started that, I thought you knew." His face turns puzzled.
"I did not."
"You did!" he insists. "After that really bad day we had a couple months ago, remember? I didn't want to leave but you said you'd be okay, and you initiated—I wasn't going to do it at all, it's…I thought it would be too weird, I thought maybe Minion said something to you about it."
Roxanne just looks blank.
"You've—picked that up on your own, then?" he says, openly stunned, and the look on his face answers her question perfectly well: yes, the forehead thing does mean something, it means a lot. She's seen him look lost like that before, but he's never been so stiff about it. "It's—I mean it's personal," he says slowly. "Why did you…is it a human thing, too, then?"
"Seemed like the right thing to do, I guess," she says, frowning. "I don't remember. No, I think it's just you, I think I might have picked it up watching you and Minion? I suppose I haven't really thought about it." Which, she thinks, might be kind of terrible because it's obviously important and she's just been taking it for granted. But it's his head, it's so much of who he is. It hadn't really occurred to her that touching foreheads with him would be anything but normal. "Sorry."
He flaps his hands at her wildly, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water until he manages to stammer, "D-don't be sorry! It's good! It's just…complicated." His species doesn't have very many weak spots, physically, but the few he has center on his head. His neck, strong though it is, is still comparatively thin and vulnerable when it comes to fighting; his head weighs a ton and whiplash is something he has to worry about a lot. His skull itself is relatively thick but still, his brain is in there. Over the course of his life, he's had to watch not only his back but his head and neck. It's his namesake, for crying out loud; his mind is his most valuable asset. His verbal recognition of other people's intelligence is a huge compliment for a reason.
It's also what sets him apart from the rest of the sentient beings on this planet; but for the size of his brain, he might have been able to manage some kind of cosmetic that would allow him to pass as human without needing to use a hard-light overlay. In that sense, Roxanne's ease around his head holds even more significance than her unconcern with skin-to-skin contact. His skin is just a funny color, but his head is actually malformed by human standards. It's a tangible reminder of who he is and where he's from. Forehead-to-forehead contact is more than just a cute gesture; initiation on his part is a nonverbal expression that she's unbelievably important to him. Initiation on her part is…what? He doesn't know.
Roxanne has been sitting quietly and watching his face move while he thinks. "I guess I did know that it held significance for you," she says after a little while, and he glances up at her. Thinking back, she can remember a few times that he and Minion had touched foreheads through the glass of Minion's dome. It was usually times that one or both of them was emotionally agitated—the first time had been after Titan, as Minion had been going into the sphere one of the brainbots had brought to the fountain. "I figured out that it calms you down pretty quickly, and if you're already calm it makes you smile. But I'm not sure I ever figured out what kind of significance it was."
"It's kind of like I love you," he says, troubled, "but it's different. It's…hugging, except not really, but it isn't kissing or holding hands either."
She raises an eyebrow. "It isn't sex, is it?"
"N-no," he stammers, focusing on her for a moment. "Although I suppose you could make the argument that making love is a similar gesture, no, it's more…personal. I don't know how to explain it." He grimaces. "It's…
"No, wait, hold on," he says, his expression suddenly clearing as a thought occurs, "I was wrong before, it's actually a very simple concept. At least from a…from a me standpoint. There isn't a good equivalent in your culture."
"Try," she says. It's obvious how much she really does want to understand.
"Okay. Okay um." He bites his lip, pulling his mouth down at the corners and frowning in nervous inarticulate frustration before letting out an exasperated noise and squinching his eyes closed. He waves a hand, blushing all sorts of lavender and pink. "It's—mostly—your brain and mine are equally important to me."
Her heart flips over and jumps into her throat. Coming from literally anybody else that statement would be comical at best, but coming from him? No wonder he'd been upset about her opening the engine.
He grimaces again and rubs a hand over the top of his head before letting it drop down to his side again. "Yeesh, that sounds so corny."
"Oh," she says blankly. "Oh. That's. Sort of what I was also trying to say?" Dammit, why is he always the adorable emotional one in this relationship? He's supposed to be the smart, logical one. "Except not the brains part, exactly. You're just very important to me and I love you."
He smiles at her. "Then I guess we're on the same page, солнышко моё," he says, and she does a double-take.
"Okay, what language was that?" she asks. She's getting better about placing them, but she doesn't think she's heard that one from him before.
"Solnyshko moyë," he says again, and now that she's ready she can make out words instead of just a jumble of sounds. "It's Russian, idiomatic. Means sweetheart." Among other things. He stands up and stretches, then pulls Roxanne to her feet. "Okay, let's get this show on the road. Maybe we'll get to your parents' house before dinner."
"Russian, huh?" she says as he starts up the car. "You don't use that very often." Still, he must be fairly fluent; he doesn't throw around phrases from languages he isn't at least conversational in. And he's never used them for pet names before, at least not that she can remember.
"No," he agrees. "No. That one is…special to me. Like isiZulu, but Uncle Guduza was never the verbally affectionate type so I don't have many terms of endearment in that language. We never really focused on romance, you know? He was pretty reserved."
She tilts her head. "So why is Russian your romance language?"
"I…" His eyes are distant and he's laughing, shaking his head. "Her name was Gala."
"Oh?" Roxanne sits forward, smiling expectantly at him. "Do tell?"
"There's nothing to tell, I was in eighth grade!" he exclaims, still laughing embarrassedly. "She was the new girl. Her father was a diplomat, and…and she would sit with me at lunch so I could check her math. That's all."
"Come onnn," she whines at him, "I know there's a story in there somewhere. It's written all over your face."
He sighs. "I'd already learned the basics of the language so that I could thank Niko properly after an altercation in the cafeteria went bad. He took a knife for me, and—"
"Whoa whoa, someone tried to knife you? Weren't you just a kid?"
"Hardly," he snorts. "I was already twelve or thirteen at the time. The Aryan Brotherhood had it in for me from day one," he says shortly, then grins and nods at the bandage he's still wearing on his arm. "Told you I've had worse than this. Anyway, I learned some Russian then as thanks. He saved my life; trying to give him someone who spoke his language was the least I could do, and he earned me some friends in the Solntsevskaya further down the line."
Roxanne doesn't ask what that is. Experience and common sense have taught her that when Megamind talks about things in prison that earned him 'friends' in groups with funny-sounding names, he usually means organized crime.
"I didn't know if Gala spoke English, so the second day she sat with me I tried to tell her that she should sit somewhere else if she ever wanted friends. She just passed me her homework and asked if she'd done it right. A day or so after that, she told me that I talked like a convict and I had to explain that the only native speaker I'd been able to practice with was an arms dealer."
Roxanne winces. "I bet she took that really well."
"I was scared to admit it, but she didn't even bat an eye." He shrugs. "Anyway. I think that was right about when I started getting angry with the world. Up until that point I'd pretty much convinced myself that the reason everyone avoided me was because I was an alien, not because they hated me personally or anything."
"But then this girl comes in and doesn't seem to care where you were from?" Roxanne says, nodding. "I can see how that would make things difficult for you."
"Well, after that I couldn't really deny that the other kids were picking on me because they wanted to, instead of it being my fault for breaking some kind of unspoken social rule." He grimaces, drums his fingers nervously on the wheel. "A little while later somebody tried to tease her about her clothes or something, something stupid, and…well, I came down kind of hard on them. And it just went downhill from there, if anybody came after me or her…I mean even if they just looked at us the wrong way, I retaliated. Entirely disproportionate retribution."
"What…"
"Eh, just threats and blackmail, mostly," he tells her with another shrug. "But pretty heavy stuff when you consider that it was middle school. And I wasn't afraid to follow through. First lesson of villainy: never threaten to do anything you can't or won't deliver. But Gala was smart, she figured out what I was doing and cornered me about it a few weeks later. I told her the score, told her I'd had enough of people constantly belittling me, and that I'd had enough of them doing it to her, too. She nodded, thanked me, and then said that she could handle herself and if I was dead set on being hateful and mean then she wasn't going to associate with me either. I told her I was, we expressed our regrets and went our separate ways. The end."
Roxanne settles back in her seat, frowning contemplatively. That wasn't the kind of story she'd been expecting when he said 'her name was Gala,' but she always enjoys hearing about Megamind's past. "You were a really different person, huh?"
"Oh, yes. Vastly. I am extremely glad you never met him." He sends her a sheepish smile. "I know you said it was too bad we didn't go to the same shool, but it's probably a good thing we didn't."
She looks at him for a long moment, trying to imagine him slouching and surly, bitter and hateful. It just doesn't work. "Well, who you are now is a love."
"I just hope I don't backslide," he says abruptly. "Being a villain in self-defense was so much easier."
"Honey," she says firmly, "listen to me. When people start giving us grief, feel free to pull whatever you want on them as long as you're sure it won't get you sent to jail." He doesn't look away from the road, but his eyebrow slides up in a silent question. She quickly adds, "I'd prefer it also not damage your new reputation, but that's up to you, to a point. Just because you're a good guy now doesn't mean you can't defend yourself!"
His brow furrows. "I suppose you're right," he murmurs. "Libel, slander…I'm not a lawyer, myself, but I'm sure we'll be able to work out some kind of…of something if we have to."
She laughs. "Oh, don't worry about laywers. Between Peter and Wayne? We are set."
He looks at her in open surprise. "Peter? Are you still in contact with him?"
"Occasionally, not often," she shrugs. "Birthday and Christmas cards, mostly, although we did meet for lunch a couple months ago and I got to meet his new daughter." She blinks, suddenly concerned. "Is that a problem? I can't remember if I told you about that or not, it was kind of a busy week."
"You didn't mention it, but it's not a problem. Why would it be a problem?" It's a rhetorical question; they both know why. They also both know that it isn't.
"I just meant is it a problem that I forgot to tell you," she elaborates, and his puzzled expression clears.
"Oh! Well, of course I like to know what's going on in your life," he shrugs, "but it's not like you're actively hiding anything from me. No problems here."
Roxanne starts to reply, then promptly loses track of what she'd been about to say when he pulls onto a side road. "Where are we going now?"
"There was a sign for some kind of historic museum. Can we go? We went to that place in Colorado."
She grins at him. "Oh, why not? It's a road trip, after all."
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They spend over an hour there, but neither of them really minds. It's a fascinating little place, less of a museum and more of an old restored village complete with church, general store, schoolhouse, and barbershop. They end up trailing after a group of schoolchildren for a while, listening in on their tour until Roxanne finally gets tired of Megamind muttering about 'historical inaccuracies.'
They're browsing through the gift store on their way out when she loses track of him. Confused, she wanders back towards the exit and finally finds him crouched in front of small display of turquoise jewelry. "What'd you find?" she asks.
He jumps nearly out of his skin, letting out a startled yelp. "Nothing!" he exclaims, hiding something behind his back.
Amused, she swats his arm. "What's that in your hand?" she grins. "I wanna see!"
"I-I-I," he says, then clamps his mouth closed, clearly having decided to shut up. "Pick a hand."
"The right," she says immediately, because she knows he's ambidextrous but his left hand is stronger; he probably wants her to pick that one instead. Shifty-eyed, he shows her an empty palm. She gives him a dirty look. "You switched them."
He aims a scowl at her that would have made another woman back away, but it only makes her cock an eyebrow and smile. "Miss Ritchi, you know me entirely too well," he grumbles, and dumps something small and round into her hand.
Roxanne blinks down at the little silver ring, then back up at him. He's standing very still with a weird flinching expression painted across his face, and she hides a grin. The silver wire detail around the turquoise stone is rather pretty…
She slips it onto the ring finger of her right hand, smiling when it fits. "You like this one?" she asks lightly. "I like this one. I think it might actually match my boyfriend."
Megamind huffs a relieved laugh. "It might. Do you want it?"
"I do," she says, and laughs at how that makes his expression twist; they're both thinking the same thing. "But I will say this," she adds, and he raises his eyebrows, "if you do propose to me I am probably going to expect more than a fifteen dollar ring from a tourist attraction."
He blushes to the tips of his ears but manages a pretty convincing scoffing sound. "Are you kidding? You're getting the Hope Diamond if I ever propose."
She frowns at him, but she's grinning. "Isn't that supposed to be cursed?"
He shrugs. "There's a necromancer—here in Nevada, actually—who I know would be willing to take a look at it. Even if he can't do anything about it, he's sure to have connections."
"Look at this one," she says, and he blinks down at it. It's a man's ring, heavy and broad, with a large oblong stone inlaid with straight silver lines. He glances at Roxanne; she gives him a pointed smile. "The silver looks a little like lightning."
Megamind is getting a lot better at picking up on and dropping hints. He takes it from her and puts it on, following her lead in terms of finger placement. His hand flickers for a second as the disguise generator incorporates the new overlay, then settles with the image of the ring blinked into existence over his finger. He looks at it, amazed. "Whoever makes these things must have tiny hands. I can't imagine there are very many men's rings in size five."
"I guess we're just lucky."
"It's not luck," he says, with the ghost of his old evil smile. "It's desssstiny."
I think there must really be something wrong with me, Roxanne thinks as they walk back out to the car, hand in hand. Matching rings? I hate all this sappy mushy stuff. Or I used to. So why do I feel so happy?
He squeezes her hand and she looks over at him, already smiling.
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The plan is to drive straight through the rest of the way to San Francisco—they do a pretty good job of sticking to that plan, too, though Megamind is privately considering another road trip in the future without a set destination in mind. Or, if they have a destination, no time constraint. That would probably be more fun than going a bunch of places and then having to leave before they're ready.
Shortly after making it through the Sacramento traffic, Roxanne's phone starts ringing. At this point, she's the one in the driver's seat, so Megamind is the one who glances at the caller ID and answers the phone.
"Wait, who is it?" Roxanne asks belatedly, but he's already talking, grinning broadly.
"You've reached the reporter and the physicist, guess which one this is!"
Her eyes go wide. "Is that my brother?"
"Hey, great to hear from you, how are things? …Yeah, we're only about an hour out according to the GPS."
She squawks and grabs at him with one hand. "Give me the phone!"
He leans away, smirking. "Focus, Roxanne, you're driving! No, I…what? Oh." He puts his hand over the mouthpiece and hisses, "It's for me, anyway!" so that she'll stop batting at his elbow. "Hmm. Is this for that freelance project you mentioned a while back? …No no, I completely understand." He pauses. "Yeah, sure I'll try and help, it would be nice if you could get home early. Ssso." He slouches down in his seat and puts on his thinking face, the studiously blank one where his eyes flick back and forth like he's reading something. "Trying to block individual neurotransmitters is going to be really hard; if your client wants a drug that works quickly you're going to need some kind of catch-all and, frankly, I don't know if that's even possible—
He blinks and sits up a little. "No, I know you know that's the problem, I'm just—oh for the love of Albert, will you shut up for just a second, I'm trying to—what?" He's quiet for a moment, frowning in thought as Drew explains. "Okay. Okay. Have you tried inhibiting the calcium channels?"
This time, Drew's voice is clearly audible: "Course I have, dumbass."
"Right, of course—give me a minute." He massages the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes.
There's a pause. Only a few seconds, but Megamind's brain covers a lot of ground in just a few seconds and it's almost the same as a minute, kind of. Megamind-to-human-standards conversions are fairly subjective.
"Well, how about reducing the connectivity of the synaptic vesicles?" he asks. "That might work. What?" He frowns. "Wait, why not?"
Roxanne, who has been listening to this one-sided exchange with some amusement, suddenly does a double-take and looks over at him in surprise. He'd been wrong? He'd been wrong about science? It shouldn't be so surprising; Megamind isn't exactly specialized in neurobiology, but still, she isn't used to him being wrong about science at all.
He's curled up against the window now with the phone clutched against his face and his index finger jammed in his other ear, scowling into nothing, his eyes flicking rapidly back and forth as though reading some invisible text document floating in midair. And then he says the impossible: "No, I don't see, explain it again and explain it better. Because if it isn't that, then I don't know what the problem—lissencephaly isn't something you can just induce temporarily—" He breaks off, blinking, and then his features contort and he actually hisses into the phone. "Oh shut up, I'm a physicist, not a neurobiologist, what did you expect? Just because mine is bigger doesn't mean I need to know how it works, so get down off your intellectual high horse and—several more than you, that's for damn sure. Yes, several." He suddenly looks guilty. "N-no, I didn't just hiss at you, don't be silly.
"Look, can we focus, here?" he asks desperately. "What about the usual monoamines? It's a little obvious, I admit, but norepinephrine, histamine, serotonin, haven't you tried those yet?"
He listens for a second, then throws his free hand into the air in consternation. "What do you mean, 'he has to remain conscious'? You're trying to temporarily limit cognitive activity, of course he's going to pass out! Hey, don't blame me, this is so far from any of my areas of expertise it's not even funny. But you really weren't kidding, this one's a real dwoozy." He bites his lip, and Roxanne can almost see the wheels turning in his brain.
When he finally speaks again, he sounds slower, almost uncertain. "Maybe we're thinking about this wrong. Maybe…maybe we need to be looking at the bigger picture. What about…could you do something with the postsynaptic density?" He sounds very tentative about this. "Make it…less dense, or something? I don't even know how something like that would work, but…" Then his expression clears and he sits up straighter. "Oh! Good! Well, try it then and let me know how it goes. Okay. Yes, I'm glad I could help too. Hurry and get home, I want to see you."
He closes her phone and stares at it.
"Well," Roxanne says into the silence that follows, "that sounded productive!"
Megamind's voice is low and utterly serious. "Your brother is far more intelligent than I gave him credit for." He looks over at her. "We're going to have to be careful."
"Sweetie, if you'd ever studied neuroscience you would have thought of a solution like that," she reminds him. "He's not smarter than you."
"You think that's what I'm worried about?" He grins grimly. "Roxanne, nobody is smarter than me. But that was the first intellectually two-way scientific conversation I've had with a human since Uncle Dexter overdosed."
"Does this mean I'm no longer the smartest person you know?"
"You'll always be the smartest person I know," he tells her with an involuntary little smile. "There's more to smarts than just book learning. But my point is, he's really smart, and I might say or do something that could tip him off to who I am."
She tries not to laugh, but only succeeds in turning it into a snort. Megamind blinks, surprised. "Oh, hon. Even if he does figure it out, which I don't think he will because he's never been really serious about us ending up together, it was all just teasing, it's not like he's going to say anything to my mom about it. He's not a total idiot."
Megamind fidgets. Logically, he knows she's right. From his correspondence with Drew, he's learned that the man actually holds him in fairly high esteem. But respecting a blue, badly-proportioned alien intellectually from a distance isn't the same as learning that he's dating your sister, and he says as much to Roxanne.
"Listen, this sounds like it's really bothering you," she says, her lips twitching, "but it really doesn't have to. Drew is even more romantically colorblind than I am."
"But I'm an alien," he says flatly. "Are you seriously telling me that won't affect his view of me at all?"
"If it does, it'll be points in your favor," she replies. "You won't be the first outworlder to show up for dinner on the arm of a Ritchi. Ganeesh was even less human-looking than you."
"Ganeesh?" He blinks several times, very rapidly. "Wait, Ganeesh ku Aea?"
"Why do you think I've always been so surprised that my mother seems to hate you because of your heritage?" she asks, ignoring the way that his eyes are bugging out of his head. "It doesn't make sense at all. She was fine with Gan."
He stares. "Th-they're not outworlders, they're native to…hold on, you met an amphibious tentaculon."
"Yeah, ku was nice. Very polite. A little on the slimy side, but that was to be expected." She tries not to smirk, but it's not every day that she gets to shock Megamind so completely.
"And not just any amphibious tentaculon. You met the most influential non-human researcher on this planet and you never told me?"
"Shame it didn't work out," she says mildly. "Drew's never been one for long-distance relationships and since humans can't survive the water pressure in Challenger Deep and tentaculae tend to desiccate if landed for too long…"
"No, you don't understand," Megamind says urgently, "I had a long correspondence with kin Dval—one of ku Aea's fellow researchers—back in the day. Most of it was formal, strictly business, I was worried about the ethical dilemmas inherent in creating intelligent machines. But anyway, kin said I was young and should be focusing on finding a suitable mate and I made some crack about my physical appearance, and kin mentioned at one point that a friend of kirs had been seeing a human male named Andrew despite the species and gender differences. You have got to be kidding me. He's that Drew?"
She shrugs. "It's a small world. Amoral, irritatingly hyper-competent beings tend to find each other. You're missing the point, though—the point is, my brother honestly isn't going to care where you're from as long as you have a brain in your head and a decent sense of humor. And you have both of those!"
It's Megamind's turn to snort. "I was not under the impression that his sense of humor is 'decent.'"
"I don't get his jokes very often, so I wouldn't know." She shrugs. "Either way, you've got a really strong ally there. My dad is another possible ally, if he shows up."
"I don't want it to be the four of us ganging up on your mom, though," he complains. "That'll come across like I'm trying to pit her family against her. And between you and me, I think that's what she's really worried about."
She bites her lip. "I suppose that's possible. She's mentioned a few times that my uncle was abducted by aliens when she was a little girl, so…it would make sense."
"Especially since they're twins," he adds. "I'm told there's often some kind of special connection there."
"What?" Roxanne blinks. "Oh—no, not Uncle Eric. Rodland, their older brother."
Megamind goes very still. "I was not aware that Rodland and Eric Allbright were related," he says faintly. And it's a good thing that little fact didn't show up in the background check, he thinks. "That's. Interesting."
She peers at him, curious, then has to look back at the road. "Something wrong?"
He bites his lip, closes his eyes. Frowns hard and shakes himself. Get it together. This is destiny; there's no other explanation for all these coincidences. When he speaks, he sounds completely calm. "No," he assures her. "Nothing's wrong. I was just surprised, I didn't know you two were related. He's, what…Under Secretary of Homeland Security for Science and Technology, right?"
"Oh!" She looks over at him, then back at the road. "Oh, I didn't think—do you know him?"
"No," he says quickly, glad that she's driving and can't spend too much time looking at his face. Destiny or not, he is very much startled and worried and not sure if he's hiding it very well. "No, we've never met. Is that how your parents met, though? Does your father work with him?"
She half-smiles. "Yeah, actually, it is," she exclaims. "How'd you guess?"
"The government isn't that big a place," he says dully. "People tend to know each other."
"Huh," she says.
There's a long pause. Roxanne isn't focusing on the silence or Megamind, she's thinking about how she's almost home for the second time in as many months after several years of not seeing her family. It's going to be stressful, but she can't help but be a little excited.
"Do you think she'll realize it's me?" he asks after a while. "Do you think she'll figure it out on her own?"
Roxanne shrugs. "That's possible. Anything's possible. I doubt it, though; I don't think it would occur to her that I would go so far as to date you."
"Perhaps not." He shakes himself and turns to scowl out the window. "I just wish I knew what her motivations are."
She snorts. "Her motivations are, she hates you. Simple."
"Yes, but why?" he persists. "Why does she hate me so much?"
"Sweetie, you made a career out of aiming missiles at her daughter's head," Roxanne reminds him patiently. "I'd probably hate you, too."
He huffs. "You're a lot of help."
"Well, what she doesn't understand is that I made a career out of you aiming missiles at my head, too. Anyway, we're almost there now," she says with loads of false cheer. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."
Megamind slumps. "Joy."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
The house doesn't look very imposing from the front—it looks almost hilariously normal, compared to what Megamind is are used to. White siding, blue trim, blue door with a wreath. It has a spacious front porch, and when Roxanne finally pulls up to the curb Megamind can see a man with an unexpectedly long ponytail lounging on one of the chairs. His head is thrown back, limbs sprawling in every direction. He appears to be sleeping.
This is it, he thinks, wishing he were anywhere else, but it's too late; Roxanne is already out the door, the keys in her hand. He can't really blame her. As much as he's worried about the upcoming week, he's anxious to be out of the car.
The man on the porch sits bolt upright when Roxanne crawls out of the passenger seat and slams the door behind her.
"Anne!" he exclaims, bounding out of his chair. Megamind blinks and squints; he really hadn't expected to see the beard. Or for Drew's nose to be quite…that shape, whatever that shape is.
Roxanne turns. "Andie!" she cries, and races up the steps and flings herself into hug that makes the tall man stumble back, laughing.
He scowls at her, trying to ignore the dark-haired man climbing slowly out of the car on the street and mostly succeeding, though his gaze does flicker in that direction a couple of times. "I told you not to call me that."
"And I told you not to call me Anne, but you never listen. I see you still haven't shaved." Roxanne laughs. "Listen, I'd like you to meet—"
"Hold it." Drew lets go of Roxanne and stands at the top of the stairs with his arms folded and a stern expression on his face. Megamind blinks up at him, then down at his hands to make sure they're still reassuringly pink. They are.
Drew's eyes narrow. "So, chemical superagents and supervillains. This one agent, (O-O)7," he begins, and Megamind blinks a few times, "he gets caught by the nefarious evil genius, Dr. Nitrogen Monoxide, who's set a trap for him. Our hero finds himself stuck in a piece of white cotton. He calls out, 'Do you expect me to talk, NO,' and Dr. NO replies—?" Here, Drew stops and waits expectantly.
Megamind frowns warily, then grins, knife-sharp. "No, Mr. Dye," he calls, and Drew beams and bounces eagerly on the balls of his feet. "I expect you to bond."
Roxanne peers from one to the other. "What are you two on?"
Behind his sunglasses, Megamind raises an eyebrow. "Science."
Drew skips down the steps, two at a time, hand already outstretched. "Drew Ritchi. You must be Pavel."
Megamind laughs and shakes his hand. "It really is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."
"Are you two going to be like this the whole time?" Roxanne calls down from the porch, hands on her hips.
He glances up at her, slipping off his sunglasses and putting them in his pocket. "We'll try not to be totally incomprehens-eeble the whole time."
"Speak for yourself. But anyway," Drew says, bouncing again, unable to contain the broad grin splitting his face, "it's good to finally meet you too, Pavel."
Megamind looks up at him sharply, sees the grin, recognizes it for what it means. His mouth falls open. "What, seriously?"
Drew laughs and jerks his head towards the house. Megamind follows him up the steps, feigning outrage the whole way. "I don't believe this. How long?"
Drew is still laughing, shaking his head. "Oh, like I didn't know who the caffeine was for! Dude, everybody knows what your coffee intake is like, you think people didn't notice when you stopped drinking so much?"
Roxanne reaches between them as they come onto the porch and grabs her brother by the elbow. "Does Mom know?"
He grimaces. "She-ee. Suspects? I really don't know; I've tried not to talk to her about it too much—you know how she gets. Sorry, man, the eyes and voice are going to be a huge tip-off."
Megamind looks at Roxanne. "Disguise watch on or off?"
She stares at him. "You're asking me?"
"I'm asking you," he says firmly. "You know her best. Which will make a better impression: trying to hide, or facing her?"
"Nothing you do is going to make a good impression," Roxanne protests, but Drew interrupts.
"My advice? Face her, watch off." Megamind and Roxanne look at him. He shrugs. "She won't see it as bravery—at best, she'll call you stupid or naïve, at worst she'll say you were too ashamed to even try to hide, but you can phrase it to your advantage and use it against her when she finally snaps later on."
Megamind nods once and moves to turn off the disguise, but Roxanne grabs his wrist. "Wait."
"What? Is he wrong?"
She hesitates, then reluctantly lets her hand fall to her side. "No, just…"
Slowly, Megamind lets go of the watch. "You're right. It doesn't sit well with me, either." Then he turns and faces the house, squares his shoulders. "So we'll do this my way. Theatrics."
His determined pose might have been impressive if Drew hadn't sniffed and rubbed at his beard—which really is longer than it has any right be; Megamind will have to ask him about that—and said, "Oh, sure. That'll go over real well."
He pauses and deflates a little. "You don't think it's a good idea?"
Drew looks to Roxanne. "Is he dramatic with you? Crowing and dancing?"
"Not usually."
"If you're going to tell me to be myself, save it," Megamind warns. "That's never worked for me."
Drew smirks. "Well, I don't know about that one. My sister is pretty picky."
Roxanne slips an arm around Megamind's waist, and he flushes slightly. "Ah. Yes."
"It's up to you, sweetie," she murmurs, trying to hide the fact that her stomach is churning with anxiety. "Keep it on, or take it off."
Megamind is silent for a long moment, then shakes his head. "Let's keep it on for now. I'd like to try and get a feel for her, first." He shoots a nervous glance up at Drew. "Do you think that's okay?"
"Hey man, don't look at me. It's a powder keg no matter what you do." He bumps the smaller man gently with his elbow, trying for reassuring. "But hey! You've already got me and Roxie on your side, right? That's gotta count for something, right?"
"I'm fairly certain Roxanne doesn't count, in this instance," Megamind mutters. But he sighs and nods. "Well, then, let's do this."
Perfect timing; that's just when the door swings open and a woman with iron-grey hair appears behind the screen. "Well, are you three going to stand out there jawing all night or do I get to say hello, too?"
Drew spins on his heels, his usual sunny smile plastered across his face as his mother comes out and gives Roxanne a warm hug. "Ma, look, I found a nerd!"
"So I see." Linda Ritchi is smaller than her daughter is and she has none of Roxanne's curves, but when she pulls away and turns to look at Megamind he sees that the facial resemblance is striking regardless. Her eyes are brown instead of blue, though. "I probably ought to be nervous about a week with two scientists in the house, but," a smile softens the lines of her face; she has Roxanne's smile and he feels a little bit better, "that's the first time I've heard anyone respond to one of Drew's jokes in kind. I suspect this week will be interesting for all of us. Well, let me look at you." Behind her, Roxanne rolls her eyes and Drew's shoulders shake with silent laughter.
Megamind stands very still, his heart pounding. The other two are making it obvious that this is something that's happened before, many times and is nothing to worry about, but Linda is the person he's really hoping to impress. It goes without saying that he's nervous as hell. He's also not used to prolonged eye contact, and the old woman isn't exactly looking him up and down; she's staring at his eyes like they hold the key to the universe.
It doesn't help his nerves that after a few seconds, Roxanne's smile fades and she says, "Mom?"
"Well, you're a snappy dresser, I'll give you that," Linda finally proclaims. Megamind relaxes slightly, though he has to wonder when she had noticed his clothes. "Come on inside, you both must be starving."
"I'm hungry too," Drew says, and Roxanne and Linda respond in unison, "You're always hungry."
Megamind blinks. Even the inflection is the same. Weird.