I was going to post this last week, just a few finishing touches left, and then…then finals week happened. And the research paper of doom. Can I write twenty pages on a tax deduction? Yes. Yes I can. Will I enjoy it? Not a chance. It was mildly interesting, though.
Anyway, if any of you are starting to worry this fic is going to be abandoned, fear not! I'm far from letting go my stranglehold on Cold Fusion. Thanks for bearing with me, you glorious person, you. Here is a hug and a plate of gluten-free cookies. And a new chapter! As always, if there are glaring grammar errors or if you have any criticisms—questions, comments, concerns, something doesn't make sense, holy crap Dal what were you thinking—please don't hesitate to let me know!
I own Drew and Orson. I also own Egg Things. And I love you.
Chapter 11
He jumps into consciousness with a panicked gasp and a full-body twitch and immediately starts flexing his fingers, reassuring himself that it was only a dream, only to let out a yelp when Roxanne whispers over, "You awake? Or are you gonna start kicking me?"
Megamind blinks a few times. "No, I'm—I'm up, did I wake you?"
Roxanne snorts, embarrassed. "Oh. Okay then. No, I was up already, I had to pee. You okay?" she adds when he sits up.
"Yeah." He groans and rubs both hands up and down his face, trying to clear his sleep-muddled thoughts. "I'm okay, I'm fine."
Roxanne sits up too, her head on one side, studying him carefully. "Are you sure?"
He looks at her, then sighs. "You're tired, you should go back to sleep." He knows she won't, but if he doesn't at least offer to wait until morning this will just be him being needy again, and he hates that.
"I'm okay, it's hours until sunup." Roxanne stretches a little and shakes her head. "What's up?"
Megamind shrugs and leans back against the headboard. "I'm just anxious, I think. I don't know what I'm doing." Anxious or not, dreams or not, he does feel much better now than he had earlier that evening. Much sharper, much less upset and confused. The stress is gone.
Roxanne settles in against him, pulls his arm around her, and he kisses her hair and then looks up at the blank ceiling with its long cracks in the paint. Roxanne's room does not have overhead lights, only floor and table lamps, which is an arrangement he's never really understood. Strange that he's thinking of this now.
"How don't you know what you're doing?" she asks, bringing him back.
"Conversations. Behaviors. Social cues." He isn't really sure how to explain.
She frowns a little, rubbing a hand up and down his leg, squeezing gently. "Is this what you were calling Minion about earlier?"
He nods, covers her hand with his longer one. "Yeah. I just don't want you to…to feel like you have to babysit me."
The way she blinks and tilts her head back to blink up at his face in genuine surprise is honestly very reassuring. "Wait, what?" She cups his face now, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone. "Sweetie."
He shrugs, feeling foolish now. "I know, I know. But I'm socially stunted, we both know that, and sometimes…sometimes I worry I've said the wrong thing or done something no normal person would ever do in response to a fairly basic stimulus, and…"
"Do you think I'll be embarrassed to be seen with you?"
Trust Roxanne to cut right to the heart of the problem. Megamind nods slowly. "I suppose that's…a big part of it, yes. And I don't want you to be embarrassed for me, I don't want you to have to make excuses for me. I want to get this right." He huffs an exasperated sigh, lifts a hand but flops it back into his lap. "But there's so much I still don't understand!"
"Like what?" She frowns. "You're doing great, you really are."
"Conversations with family aren't like anything I've encountered before," Megamind grumbles. "You and your mother—if two friends had fights like those, they wouldn't be friends anymore. So there are things you're allowed to say to family that you can't to friends, I understand that." Then he shakes his head. "But the way you and Drew treat each other is…well, it's sort of the way a few of my uncles would act with each other. But that was usually a power play, or there was some kind of goal in mind." He frowns, trying to figure out how to word this. "He's your brother. Is it normal for siblings to be that…open? About everything?" He looks at her, eyebrows up, asking for a response.
Roxanne smiles tiredly. She's slid her hand down to his shoulder, now, and she gently pushes him to lie back down. "The reason I'm so open with Drew is that he's known me all my life," she says as Megamind slides under the covers again. Once he's more or less situated, she snuggles down with him, squirming to get comfortable. "And he's completely open about pretty much everything—I'm sure you've noticed! He's like that with everybody. Here, can you lie on your back?" Megamind nods and folds his pillow lengthwise, shoves it behind his neck. Roxanne settles down against his side with his arm around her waist and her head on his chest, the way she'd lain the very first morning when he'd woken up in her bed with aching ribs and eleven million questions pounding between his eyes. "Thanks. And he's encouraged me to be that way with him. My whole life, he's always been the one person I could count on to be there for me, no matter what. Because he's my big brother. And because that's sort of who he is."
"But that's not normal," Megamind presses. "Is it?"
"Not really."
Megamind is still trying to get the hang of interacting with so-called 'normal' humans, so the ones who act outside the norm are especially difficult for him to place. Like with Jo. It had taken him weeks to realize that the short woman's pushiness could be avoided if he just called her on it and told her to stuff it, and doing that was okay because they were friends and she knew she could be overly bossy sometimes. But saying something like that to Roxanne would be bad in most contexts.
"I didn't think that was normal," he mutters, frowning up at the ceiling. By and large, he does have a good feel for interacting with people. So far, he hasn't overstepped too many social boundaries, and people seem surprised when he mentions he's not always clear on whether he's done or said the right thing.
Knowing he's probably okay doesn't keep him from being nervous about it, though.
Roxanne chuckles. "Well, being able to trust people and share things, that's…it's pretty big, and usually that's what family is about. But like I said, he's that way with everybody, and it works for him. People trust him really easily—and a lot of the time they end up having sex with him. I'd say it's complicated, but it doesn't seem to be."
Megamind struggles to wrap his head around that for a few seconds. "So you just…what, make fun of him for it?"
She shrugs gently. "If he was bothered by the way everybody seems to want in his pants, I wouldn't. But he thinks it's funny, so yeah, I make endless fun of him." She's quiet for a moment. "Sort of the way I tease you about stuff, you know? The stuff that doesn't bother you. Like how you have different organs than me. If…well, if another reporter tried that, you'd be offended, but you don't seem to mind it when it comes from me." She yawns, turns her head, presses a kiss to the blue skin just under the curve of his collarbone. "You know? It's why…it's why life partners are so important to so many people, I guess. You have to find somebody outside your family to be your family."
It's an offhand comment; she doesn't really think about it. Honestly, she's almost half-asleep again, but for some reason Megamind gasps, "Wh-what?"
Roxanne blinks her eyes open and hoists herself onto her elbow, wondering what on earth is wrong now. Megamind's pained surprise is almost tangible, a sharp tang in her nostrils, and she has to wonder, not for the first time but not very seriously, if she isn't developing some very minor pheromone-reading skills of her own. "What? What'd I say?"
"Y-you said…well you didn't say, but…" He stares up at her, wide green eyes openly bewildered.
Usually she's able to draw some kind of conclusion from his confused half-sentences, but not this time. She'd only tried to clarify why the way she and Drew talk is similar to the way she and Megamind talk, and…oh. Oh. Well, that still shouldn't have surprised him to the extent that he's forgetting how to breathe. She bites her lip. "Megamind, you know of course that I'm planning on spending the rest of my life with you," she says in a low voice, meeting his eyes now with her own steady gaze. "You know that, right?"
His mouth falls open; no, he did not know that. Several seconds pass before he manages to find his voice, and even then he speaks with some difficulty. "What?" he stammers, staring up at her. "You, you're…what?"
She just looks at him, slowly turning pink, then lowers herself down a bit, curling on top of him, her arms folded across his narrow chest and her chin resting on her arms. "You didn't know?"
"H-how was I supposed to know?" he demands. His mind is starting to race.
"Are you kidding?" She laughs a little, biting her lip as she frowns at him, chagrined. "Megamind. When I said, 'I'm really never planning on leaving you,' what did you think I meant?"
His whole expression blows wide with shock. That's why she'd been so insistent on that point! "But you started saying that weeks ago!"
Roxanne's smile this time is almost embarrassed. "Well," she says awkwardly, "I meant it. I'm sorry, I thought you understood."
He shakes his head, scowling now. "I don't read into things, you know that. Not romantic things," he amends when she blinks at him, and then when her eyebrows go up—because he really does read into romantic things all the time—he has to clarify, "Not positively." He pauses as a thought hits him, going suddenly pale. "But th-this means…"
She waits, watching the emotions play across his face. The room is dark, but not nearly as dark as the room they share at home; there are no windows at home, and Roxanne's room here has two of them. The clouds from earlier have cleared away, and the moon isn't full but it's big enough to diffuse some light in through the gauzy curtains. Roxanne can see Megamind fairly well in the half-light—especially his eyes, which reflect a little—and his gaze is all over the place, darting here-there-everywhere as thoughts wheel madly through his head. He looks the way he had all those months ago when she'd hugged him as Bernard, that happy-stunned look, like he can't believe what's happening or he's afraid he'll wake up. Clearly, he doesn't know what to do with whatever possibility he's thought of.
She lets him think, finally unfolding her arms and hugging him across his chest, still nestled under his arm. "Sweetie?" she prompts gently.
Tilting his head to the side looking as though this is a wholly new idea, his breathing is shallow as his restless gaze finally settles on her. "This means. You'll marry me?"
"If you ask me nicely. I might." It's coy, but she can't help the way her fingers on his shoulder tighten possessively any more than she can help the smile that twists her mouth up, and there's her real answer.
His adam's apple bobs again, his nostrils flare. His eyes are wider than she's ever seen them. It's the middle of the night, they're both only mostly awake, and they're having this discussion now. He reaches up and cards shaking fingers through her hair. "Then will—would you? If, if I asked?"
"Of course I would." There's a silent don't be stupid on the end of that, but she's smiling.
His whole demeanor changes in a split second with her response: he lets out a "Yeeep!" that's loud enough to make them both jump and then promptly covers his mouth, blushing to the tips of his ears. "I. Well, I. I don't know what to say!" he babbles as quietly as he can manage, fluttering his hands everywhere, up and down her body and face, tugging on the sheets, then finally just folding them on his chest, arms around her, and drumming his fingers as he half-gasps for breath. "This is unexpected! I'm. You just took me completely by surprise, were you trying to do that? What do I say? I mean this isn't exactly how I'd planned it but I suppose I could do it now if you wanted—it's just, th-the ring is still in the design phase, I haven't—"
She squirms out of his iron embrace so she can grab one of his hands, trying to help him pull himself together. "If you still want to do a formal proposal, that's fine," she says calmly. "But yes, if you ask me, I'll marry you." His face scrunches up, and she squeezes his fingers, trying not to laugh. "Don't cry."
He blinks furiously, his throat working. "I just…yesterday was the most awful day," he mumbles, looking lost. "And now I'm happier than I've ever been in my entire life. How do you do that?"
She shrugs again, smiling. She can't help but feel a little smug; after all, she has raised de-railing his many trains of thought to an art form. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: you're predictable."
His throat works, his mouth opens a little bit—his heart is in his eyes. It's the way he'd looked at her in the rain that night but without the hopelessness, closer to the way he'd looked at her in the fountain: like he doesn't know what to say or what to do, but it doesn't matter because the situation speaks for itself.
"So," Roxanne says, still smirking, "all that being said, is it all right with you if I switch this ring over to my left hand?" She lifts her right hand and wiggles her fingers at him, the little silver and turquoise ring shining mutedly in the sub-light. "Not as an engagement ring, I know," she hastens to add when he blinks and freezes, "but…as a commitment ring, I guess?"
Megamind takes her hands in his now, smiling shyly, and oh, Roxanne is convinced that if her mother could only see him smile like that she'd understand. "If you let me do it."
She laughs and lets him, grabbing his wrist before he can pull away and insisting that he let her reciprocate. He grins down at his ring, now on his left hand, and cocks his head. "Feels weird over there."
She grins. "You'll get used to it."
That green gaze flashes back to her and he's smirking, and his eyes are lit up like fire but his voice is quiet. "I sincerely hope so."
And it's so strange, snuggling back down with him in the soft night, looking at his thin face and remembering him whirling around in his chair and giggling like a child. Cuddling into him, his cold hands cupping her waist and gently fluffing the short hairs on the back of her head, and remembering how good he always was at tying knots and pushing buttons and sending those hands dancing lightning-quick over three keyboards at once while threatening her and taunting Metro Man in the same breath. He was a madman. He was a child. He was a villain, ruthless and cold.
But every once in a while he would say something, or she would, and something would flicker across his face or behind his eyes. He'd look hurt or scared or worried or concerned or flattered and trying to hide it. Offended, once or twice. Fed-up, numerous times. Lost, only once. It was enough, though; Roxanne realized years ago that he was a villain mostly for the cameras. When nobody was looking, he'd snark and snipe at her but he was almost always grinning when he did it—he saved the Evil Overlord for his true audience, the citizens of Metro City. He'd kept up the show with her for a while, a few years, but after Carn-Evil he'd more or less calmed down in front of her. After that, he'd been more of a Quirky Awkward Overlord.
That's the man she's lying with now. The man she's fallen in love with. The man who looked lost that one time, and fed-up and concerned and reluctantly flattered. He's so strange, and he's so familiar. And she loves him so much.
She wriggles a little bit closer and tucks her arm tighter around him and nuzzles her head into his chest with a little contented sigh, then drifts off.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Megamind gets up at dawn and dresses. Jeans and a button-down shirt look normal enough on the outside, but there's spandex underneath—normal or not, all he wants today is to be comfortable. He debates for a while about whether to put on shoes. On one hand, he wants to be able to bolt if necessary. On the other hand, he shouldn't have to bolt. Today is nothing particularly special, really.
At least, that's what he tells himself, but he seriously doubts Linda will stay holed up in her room all day, which means he'll have to interact with her. And he won't be wearing the watch, either, and as much as he likes to be able to look down and see his own hands, he feels a little bit naked without his leather and spikes. As much as he knows civilian clothing will probably be easier for her to stomach than his villain getup, or even just his usual spandex, he doesn't feel right. Like he's going into battle without any armor.
He used to feel that way around Roxanne, too. Back when they'd first started dating. That's what he gets for hiding behind his villain persona for so long.
Outside, the sky is lightening quickly; it's going to be a nice day, not rainy and gross like yesterday was. He'd woken up again in the wee hours of the morning to the sound of wind, but the clouds are from yesterday have mostly cleared up and there are big patches of blue over the choppy waves and the cliff, and the wind's from the east and blowing the clouds out to sea, for once. Hopefully the day's events will mirror the weather
He decides against shoes, decides to wear just socks with his jeans, but he also decides to wear the socks with little fish on them as a sort of weird rebellion. Then he leaves the room as quietly as he can, shutting the door behind him.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Linda emerges from her room at six thirty, hoping she's the first one up, but luck isn't on her side today—Megamind is already sitting at the dining room table. The alien glances up and blinks at her, then looks quickly away again, returning his attention to the giant sheet of blue paper in front of him. She is gratified to see that he looks a little nervous.
She hesitates, but ultimately decides to just come out and do her best to put up with him. Might as well, since he's going to be here for the next few days. And it might actually be easier to tolerate him while Roxanne is asleep and not breathing down her neck. Stressing her out.
"You're up early," she says, taking out the cereal.
He doesn't stop what he's doing, barely even looks up. "Yes."
"Couldn't sleep?"
"I usually only sleep about four or five hours at a stretch on a good night." He sounds calm, but doesn't volunteer any more information. This isn't going to be easy.
She takes a deep breath, forces herself to sound as non-confrontational as possible. "What are you doing?"
Now he puts down the chalk pencil and looks at her, flattening his long hands on the table. He looks hesitant, suspicious even, but he replies, "I had an idea a couple days ago, it's been bouncing around in the back of my head ever since. The newspaper's on the side table if you want it."
He's still trying to put her off. "What idea?"
He cocks his head at her and squints. "Why are you talking to me?"
Straight to the chase, then. She sighs. "You're staying here. Whether I like it or not, you're dating my daughter. I thought I might as well be civil."
"You can be civil without talking."
He's only making an observation, but it comes out sounding colder than he'd intended, and Linda raises an eyebrow and sends him a hard smile. "Well, then," she says, and turns away.
He flushes and scrambles to clarify. "No, I—I didn't mean it like that. I just meant…" He huffs through his nose, mutters something that sounds like really bad at this, then says, "I don't understand why you're asking about my activities and habits as though you're interested. Such inqu-eye-ries are unnecessary for the maintenance of civility."
Up goes the other eyebrow. "Do you always get this formal when you're confused?"
He blushes harder. "N-not always. Just when I want to be clear."
She purses her lips, but nods. She hadn't really expected him to call her out like that, so she hadn't bothered thinking up a reason to cover up that she'd overheard him talking to his friend—Minion?—in the bathroom the night before. Of course, she'd only heard half the conversation, but still. It wasn't like she'd been listening intentionally.
Okay, fine, she'd been listening intentionally. Actually, she'd had her ear to the wall for most of it. Turns out, Megamind says some interesting things when he thinks nobody's listening.
I'm just the weird blue thing nobody likes and nobody wants—I don't want to convince her to like me. I wish she'd stop yelling at Roxanne about it. I'm causing all this upset between Roxanne and her family just by being with her—just by being me with her—
What makes this hard for Linda to understand is that she knows about Minion. That fish has been with Megamind from the very beginning; it's responsible for pulling him out of trouble more than half the time. So he has no reason to lie to Minion; they're partners in crime! As near as she can tell, they're partners in everything. Which means, if Megamind wasn't lying during that conversation, he must have been telling the truth, at least for part of it.
Which means, if he was telling the truth, then the other thing he'd said might also be true. But it was so far-fetched…
"So then…why are you talking to me?" he asks again, but she's saved from having to answer when the front door opens and they both turn, but it's just Drew chewing on an Egg Thing.
He grins, waves, mumbles, "G'mornin'!" and shuts the door behind him. Megamind snorts and returns to his drawing.
Linda frowns at her son, distracted. "Trying to sneak back in before I wake up?"
He shrugs. "Dunno what you're talking about," he says easily, never mind the fact that he's wearing the same clothes he'd had on yesterday and his hair is a glorious mess of tangles, "I just went to get breakfast."
She harrumphs, but doesn't argue. "Uh-huh. You know the rules regarding walks of shame haven't changed just because you've moved out and you're sleeping with a giant squid."
"Ugh, Mom. Ku Aea isn't a squid, and you know ku hasn't been to the surface in years." He rolls his eyes and plunks a white bag down on the counter, then inhales the rest of his Egg Thing. Then he yawns. "Okay. I'm gonna go get a shower."
"Hold it!" Linda calls him back, tilting the open bag towards him. "There's only two."
"Oh, right. Yeah." Drew nods, unconcerned, and jerks a thumb in Megamind's direction. "Food allergies. He can't eat 'em. Hey, catch!" and he throws a green-and-red candy cane across the room. There are entirely too many people throwing things this morning. "And a very Happy Breakfast to you both. Now. Shower. Bye." And away he goes up the stairs.
Megamind unwraps the end of the candy cane and licks it, detects no trace of corn syrup, high fructose or otherwise. Awesome. He looks back at Linda, all amused curiosity. "What's the rule about walks of shame?"
"Anyone who conducts one must bring breakfast for everyone else in the house."
He laughs. "I like that."
After that, conversation stalls. It's probably for the best. Linda drinks her coffee and stares at the newspaper, her attention on the alien at the dining room table. Megamind ignores her. The old shower upstairs makes a terrible racket.
Megamind spends the next hour alternating between working on his drawing and moving aimlessly around the downstairs at random, wandering back to his blueprint every now and again; staring out the widow without moving at intermittent intervals, one time for nearly twenty minutes—Linda timed him—rifling through the magazines on the coffee table without opening any of them. Eventually he wanders over to the sofa, spins around on his heel and flops face-first into the cushions.
"Aaaaaaagh. Blah."
Linda scowls. "What."
His muffled voice trails over from the couch. "Bored."
"So read a book. Draw a picture."
He snorts. "I don't do art." There's a pause. "How cold is the water this time of year?"
She doesn't look at him, but she's focused in his direction. "Cold. Fifty, maybe a couple degrees warmer or colder."
Megamind nods, gets up, and goes outside. He doesn't come back.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
When Roxanne comes downstairs, Megamind is nowhere to be seen. Her mother is sitting at the kitchen peninsula with a twice-empty coffee mug by her elbow, steadily filling in boxes in the newspaper's daily crossword puzzle. There's a large sheet of blue paper on the dining room table; Roxanne wanders over and finds herself blinking down at a tangle of circuitry and electrical schema. Shaking her head, she goes into the living room, but he isn't there, either. The old rainy day box, full of random arts and craft supplies, lies forgotten on the living room floor by the sofa; she's not sure what that's about. She's also not sure where it goes anymore, so she shoves it into the corner by the fireplace.
Then she stands there for a minute, looking around, until Linda says, "I think he went down to the beach a couple hours ago."
Oh, lord. Roxanne rolls her eyes, then goes to the closet where they keep the beach towels and pulls one down from the shelf, knowing Megamind probably won't have thought to bring one. "I'll be back," she says shortly, grabbing her jacket. The morning air is chilly—not as cold as Michigan, but cool enough in the shade to warrant outerwear.
She has the sliding door halfway open when her mother calls her back. "Annie, wait." Roxanne turns. Linda hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head. "Never mind. …It's not important."
Whatever. She turns back around and goes to head down to the beach.
…The beach, where Megamind is still nowhere to be found, but there's a pile of clothes—a shirt and a pair of jeans with socks rolled up in one of the legs—hidden in the lee side of a rock near the old wooden stairs. She stares out at the choppy waves for a while, then slowly sits down on the towel she'd brought.
She knows he's a swimmer, has seen him go down to Minion's pool several times to relieve tension. She's not sure if it's part of his biology, necessarily, but he's always much more relaxed after going under for a while. Still, she's never known him to swim in the lake, and while he'd expressed interest in swimming on this trip, she hadn't been sure if he was really serious about it.
She hears him before she sees him, hears him laughing in the distance. Or she thinks she does. There's no way to be sure; the sound comes from far away and it cuts off abruptly. She doesn't hear anything again for a while, but then she sees something surface about a hundred yards out.
She sticks her fingers in her mouth and whistles at him, and he lifts his head further out of the water and spots her on the beach, raises an arm to wave. Roxanne motions for him to come back, and he nods once and dives.
He doesn't come up again for a good four minutes; when he does, he's close enough to shore that he can stand and wade the rest of the way in, spandex shining wetly. He's grinning broadly, still half laughing, and his steps are stumbling but he looks beyond happy—he's almost dancing.
Roxanne meets him with the towel as soon as he clears the water; she isn't going to wade in to him because the ocean is cold, and besides, she's not wearing boots. Megamind wraps himself happily in the oversized towel and tucks it up under his arms, then puts his freezing wet hands on either side of Roxanne's face and kisses her soundly. She resists the urge to hold him; she'd rather not get her jacket all wet, but he doesn't seem to mind. He tastes like the ocean and she can feel him smiling against her mouth just before he pulls back and lets go, already beaming again.
Roxanne blinks at him, unable to keep from smiling now, herself. "Good morning," she says, pleased and surprised. It's not every day her boyfriend swims in from out to sea and plants one on her without any sort of preamble.
He laughs, throws out his arms. "Good morning!" he cries, and nearly drops the towel in the water but catches it in time. "Oop—ha ha! Today is going to be a good day, I can feel it!" He gives a happy little shoulder-wriggle and smiles so big that his eyes nearly squinch shut, then sweeps around her and staggers up the beach to his clothes. Roxanne follows him, confused but still smiling—Megamind's sudden good mood is contagious.
"Any particular reason why?" she asks, grinning at him. He tugs the spandex down and off his chest and arms, towels dry and then puts on his shirt before doing the same with his jeans, hiding behind the towel this time. There's nobody on the beach to see, but it's daylight and who knows who might be watching?
Jeans in place, he flops back on the stones and sends a pleased little hum up at the sky. "Whales!" He laughs helplessly, brushes his fingers against her anklebone affectionately. "I saw whales!" Apparently he's too happy to move.
She blinks, amazed. "Wait, just how far out did you go?"
"Only about a mile. Then I turned north. They were heading south, pod of five." He opens his eyes, green rings blazing up at her in the morning sunlight. "They're so big!"
"Probably gray whales," she tells him. "They migrate this time of year, we see them sometimes from the cliff."
"It was so cool!" he exclaims. "I was just swimming and then there they were!"
"I am wildly jealous," she tells him, meaning it. "I wish I could have seen that. This trip is turning out to be pretty wildlife-heavy, isn't it?"
He hums. "For me, anyway. And the ocean is huge!"
She laughs. "So is the lake," she points out.
Megamind sits up, still grinning and breathing deeply. "The lake doesn't feel as big," he explains. "It's calmer. The biggest animals there are the sturgeons. But the ocean feels enormous. Like it's this big breathing thing, all push and pull. It's comforting."
Roxanne rubs her fingertips lightly over the top of his head, looking out to sea, and Megamind hums and leans his head against her hip. "You might be semiaquatic," she muses. This is his first time in the ocean, and he'd swum more than two miles with no problem. And he'd gone under for at least four minutes without running out of air.
He nods. "Probably. Judging by how I'm proportioned? Almost definitely." He doesn't sound too bothered by this, and she smiles. Then he gets to his feet and stretches. "I'm going to get a shower. Then breakfast?"
She smiles. "Shower then breakfast sounds like an excellent plan."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
"You're not dead," Linda observes as Megamind comes through the porch door, followed more slowly by Roxanne.
"Sorry to disappoint," he replies, breezing past on his way to the stairs.
"Maybe next time," she mutters, putting her thumb in her book as a placeholder. "Annie, can I talk to you?"
Roxanne, who has just finished untying her shoes, glances up and nods. "What's up?"
"That ring was on your other hand yesterday." It's not in Linda's nature to mince words, but she leaves her question dangling silently at the end of her observation. She's not quite sure how to phrase it without sounding antagonistic, and at this point it's clear to her that if she can't be at least civil about this mess, Roxanne won't even try to deal with her.
Roxanne holds her gaze and voice steady. "It's a commitment ring—he'll propose when the time is right." Her mother presses her lips together, and she adds, very quietly, "I'm not leaving him."
Long seconds tick by, and then Linda gives a jerky nod. "I know." She gazes unhappily at her daughter, remembering pigtails and braces, driving to soccer practices and years of clarinet lessons. A half-hearted attempt at ballet. A stream and a frog and National Geographic, icing on corduroy overalls. Her quiet daughter, so afraid of public speaking she'd worried herself sick over it more than once. Today she's a star reporter and television personality, the face of KPMC, she networks and rubs elbows with strangers as easy as breathing.
She sighs. There's so much she wants to say, but she knows Roxanne won't listen to her. "I hope you know what you're doing. I really do."
Roxanne's mouth twists, but all she says is, "When have I ever been caught without a contingency plan?"
Her mother hesitates. There was Chad, but she's not about to bring that up. It's not a fair argument, for one thing; for another, Roxanne won't stand for it. "You usually have some kind of a backup in mind," she reluctantly concedes.
Roxanne nods. "Right, well, in this case, my lease is good through May and I'm not subletting. I have my job, I have my apartment. I can leave any time I want."
"You think he'll let you go?"
She actually snorts at that one. "Let me? I'd like to see him try to stop me." Her expression softens as she tries to think how he might actually react to that. "He'd probably help me pack."
Linda stares at her. "How are you so sure?"
Roxanne huffs a sigh. She really just wants this to be over. "Look. He wears his heart on his sleeve, okay?" She bites her lip. There's no argument she can make that her mother will trust. "Just…look at him, just—just watch him for two minutes and—"
"Oh, like he's incapable of lying and hiding."
"You don't know him!"
"Well it's not like his whole career is based on it, or anything!"
"All right, look," Roxanne says, because if this devolves into another one of their actual fights, she's going to scream, "enough. If you're going to start attacking, I'm going to leave."
Linda holds up her hands, breathes through her nose. "Okay. All right. I'm done."
"Good." She starts to turn away, then wheels back around. "Just FYI? He's a very good liar." She's not going to say anything about how he's terrible at lying to her. That would over-complicate things. "I could tell you about an amazing stunt he pulled with me back in August, shortly after we started dating. He got so insecure he tried to trick me into leaving him, just because he figured I was going to do it eventually." She shrugs. "And he tried to make me think it was because he was worried other villains would come after me for being with him."
Linda frowns. "Why the hell would you stay with someone who pulls things like that?"
Because he was great about nearly everything else. Because if it was a regular thing, she would have left. Her lip is starting to hurt, but it's a nervous habit, she can't help it. "It was one time. Everything else was fine. We were…his whole life got turned inside out, and it took him and Minion a little while to…adapt." She shrugs, wishing there was a way to explain it that didn't sound so wishy-washy. "Of course he was going to be weird."
"Tricking your significant other that way isn't weird, it's insane." Linda sits back in her chair, scowling. "Not to mention that whole mindset is extremely self-destructive. I take it you were lying about this being Jo's boyfriend, then?"
It takes Roxanne a minute to remember that she'd actually talked with her mother about this before. She splutters, trying desperately to think of what was said during that conversation. "Oh, that's…don't go all 'psychology degree' on me!" she exclaims, indignant. And then suddenly she remembers something and feels her mouth drop open. Oh my god.
Linda pulls up short. "That's a new face," she observes warily. "I don't think I've seen that one before."
Roxanne looks at her, eyes wide. She's trying very hard not to smile, but she's not sure if she's succeeding. "You know, it was you who convinced me to give him another chance."
Linda reels. "What?"
Roxanne nods slowly. "Yeah, I told you what happened—well, kind of—and you, you went and did your psychology thing based on what I said." Linda is staring at her, but Roxanne can't tell if the expression on her mother's face is horror or disbelief. "You said something about…he was scared of me, of what I could do to him if he let me in. And he was scared for me, too. Trust issues, and…" Batman and Alfred, that's what Roxanne had said.
"It's not fair for you to get involved in all that," Linda argues weakly. She's still halfway stunned, and can't put as much conviction into her statement as she'd like.
To her surprise, Roxanne almost smirks. "You're right, you know? Maybe it's not fair for me to get involved in his issues, maybe I shouldn't have to deal with that." She has to wrap this up fast; Linda won't stay subdued like this much longer. "But just because he has issues doesn't make him a bad person. Especially when he's working really hard to find ways to deal with stuff! And he knew what he did was stupid," she adds, because that's important. "If he didn't, I wouldn't have stayed with him."
Linda shakes her head. "This is…you can't just…"
"Yes, I can," Roxanne says. Maybe her mom will believe this and maybe she won't; either way, she has to get this all out in the open now, before Linda's blind hatred and mistrust can progress any further. She knows her mom has legitimate reasons for not liking Megamind. It's the assumption that he brainwashed her that Roxanne has a problem with.
"My point is, if you think I think it's all sweetness and light with this guy, you're mistaken. He can be a real pain in the neck sometimes. Once you get past the bluster and 'eee-vil' posturing, he's so insecure it hurts," she states flatly, then makes her way to the fridge and pulls out the carton of orange juice. "And he's just as stubborn as I am."
That one makes Linda pull back in surprise; of all the things she was prepared to hear from Roxanne, that wasn't one of them. "So, then…why did you stay?"
"Well, like I said, he's working on it," Roxanne points out, pouring herself a glass and then turning around to lean back against the counter with it. "And I can deal with rough patches. It's not a deal-breaker." She rolls her eyes, starting to smile a little. "Honestly, Mom, we're stupid compatible in just about every other way. I can fight with him. He can be impatient, but he's kind. He's funny and we work well together." Her smile turns sly. "And he is amazing in the sack."
Linda's jaw drops in horror. "Annie!"
Roxanne laughs. "Well, it's true!" She shakes her head, finally starting to relax a little. "Ugh, give it up, Mom. I'm just as hard to deal with as he is. Besides, he puts up with my emotional tomfoolery—"
She cuts off abruptly at the sound of loud, hurried footsteps overhead, and suddenly Megamind bolts down the stairs and out the front door, yelling something about "A tree there's a tree holy crap it's a tree!"
Roxanne peers after him, mildly confused but unconcerned. Linda frowns at her. "What was that all about?"
Roxanne shrugs. "No idea. Mostly I just try to stay out of his way when he gets like that." She reaches for the abandoned newspaper. She's done talking about this, unless her mother asks for more information—unfortunately, she isn't sure how Linda took all of what she's just said. But it will only get worse if she tries to justify herself further. She really shouldn't have said that about how Megamind is in bed. Still, she keeps her tone as nonchalant as possible as she asks, "You done with this section?"
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
"Here," Megamind pants as he runs up to the black SUV at the curb, "if I get on the roof and roll it to the side—"
"You'll crush too many branches that way." The big man grappling with the tie-downs shakes his head. "You get on and lift the top of the tree and then scoot it back toward me down here."
"Aye cap'n." He hops up on a wheel, then onto the hood, and from there he's able to scramble on top of the car with very little trouble, crouching with his feet on either side of the roof rack. "Ready?"
"Give 'er a shove!"
The tree, which is wrapped in plastic netting to keep the branches contained, doesn't require much shoving to start sliding back, and Megamind quickly jumps to the ground and races around behind the car to catch the top of it so it doesn't hit the ground. He has to stretch his arms above his head, but it works, and then he's able to lower the bundle onto his shoulder. Meanwhile, Orson Ritchi tucks the trunk end of the tree under his arm and glances back. "Got it?"
Megamind nods, grinning. "I'm good."
"All right, then in we go."
It's not difficult to recognize the man in front of him as the bearded giant in the photographs Linda showed him the day before. He's bald, tattooed all over his arms and, for some reason, his scalp, but the beard in the pictures has been replaced by the most spectacular gray-blond muttonchops Megamind has ever seen. This is not what he'd expected when he'd tried to imagine Roxanne's father, Linda's husband. He'd imagined someone much more…clean-cut. A suit, not a bomber jacket over a tee-shirt and jeans.
He has to admit, with nothing more than physical appearance to judge, he much prefers this.
"Oh, lord," Linda is saying as Megamind follows Orson into the house. "You brought a tree, of course you did, let me find a blanket to put it on…we'll have to have Drew get the stand out of the attic, you couldn't have given me a little more time to prepare?"
"Hush, woman, let an old man catch his breath," Orson scolds in a good-natured drawl, and simply drops his end of the tree on the carpet without paying any heed to the sap, then snags his wife around the waist and dips her in a deep kiss. Linda squeaks, then shoves at his chest.
"Oh, stop," she says, but she's laughing. "I am too old for your antics! Orson Ritchi, you pick that tree up and put it on a blanket before you destroy my carpet."
"Yes'm," he says, grinning. "Soon as I'm done saying hello to the kids." Linda plants her hands on her hips but he ignores her, turning to grab Roxanne in a big bear hug. "Hey hey, Roxannie. Finally made it home!"
"Me or you?" she asks, grinning.
He snorts. "Guess I'll have to go with 'both,'" he replies. Then he frowns and puts a hand flat on the top of her head. "You went and grew another couple inches. I swear to God, you got to stop doing that."
"Daddy, I have not grown a single centimeter since you saw me last and you know it," she laughs.
He raises his bushy eyebrows at her. "Must be getting old, then. Whoa!" This is when Drew, who has been sneaking up on him, jumps to hug him around the neck from behind. "Kid, you are gonna be the death of me…"
This is clearly where Drew gets his wide shoulders, but he hasn't grown into his frame yet the way Orson has. "Hi, Dad. Glad you could make it."
"Wouldn't've missed it." Yes, he would have, but nobody argues. He claps both his children on the back, grinning hugely. "C'mon, let's get the stuff out of the attic."
Which leaves Megamind and Linda to spread an old wool blanket on the floor and move the tree onto it. "The carpet will be okay," he says, trying to hide the little grin he can't seem to push away as he looks down at the greenery. "I can make a solvent that'll get sap out of silk. It'll be fine."
Linda frowns at him. "What's got you all smiley all of a sudden?"
Megamind straightens, dusting off his hands on his jeans. "I've never had a Christmas tree before." He glances up at her, green eyes dancing. "Are they all this big?"
She sighs and shakes her head, doing her best to ignore how delighted he looks. "No, Orson just has a flair for the dramatic." She rolls her eyes and goes into the kitchen to wash her hands and get the jug they'll use to refill the tree water. Megamind trails behind. "Tromping in here like Santa Claus with a huge tree that'll only fit in the foyer is exactly his kind of style."
Megamind doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't try. "I'm glad he was able to come home."
"It's nice to have him around, yes," she agrees. "I'm not sure how much he'll be home while you're here; as I understand it, there's a meeting in the city tomorrow afternoon. He probably won't be back until late."
Megamind frowns. "But that's Christmas Eve."
Linda shrugs, retrieves the jug from its place in the cupboard above the stove and turns the tap on cold. "The people he works with don't really celebrate winter holidays."
He scowls. "Well I don't care what they celebrate! He needs to be here!" He honestly sounds outraged. "They can't postpone it two days?"
"It's an interplanetary summit."
Megamind bites his lip, frowning as he thinks for a moment. "Is…there anything I could do?"
She snorts. "You?"
"I'm pretty good at kidnapping people," he says slowly. "If I set up a perimeter around the house, I could maybe…"
"All right, first of all, this is the first summit meeting ever held on Earth and you will not disturb it," she snaps, cutting him off. Then she turns around and stares at him. "And second, are you threatening to kidnap my husband?"
Megamind blinks at her, whole face stretching in surprise, then holds up both hands. "Whoa, hold on, no. Offering. Offering, not threatening. Crussial difference."
She squints, outraged. "Cruss…it's crucial. And what is wrong with you? You see a situation you don't like and your first instinct is to kidnap someone?" she demands, aghast.
Megamind points at the jug in the sink. "It's overflowing." Linda turns and smacks the tap, turning the water off with a curse. "And kidnapping isn't my first instinct," he adds. He sounds confused enough at her accusation, but Linda remembers yesterday—how angry he'd been, how precise he was with his words and arguments. No matter what Roxanne says, she's seen the man behind the smiling, sheltered mask, and she knows he's nowhere near confused. The fact that he's trying to play the innocent here only pisses her off.
So she lets her hackles rise. "Don't play games with me," she snaps, and he ducks his head a little but keeps looking at her from under his eyebrows. "You might be able to fool the others but you can't fool me."
Green eyes flick to the side and he frowns. "I'm—I'm not trying to fool you." Linda scoffs, but Megamind dips his head further, looking more bewildered than ever as he tucks his elbows against his sides, twists his hands together in front of his stomach. "My first instinct isn't to kidnap. It really isn't. When I see something I don't like…I want to fix it. That's all."
Linda's hands are on her hips again; she's not sure when that happened. "Oh, that's all?" she mocks, and he nods. She starts to say something else, but he interrupts, frowning down at his hands.
"I think the problem here is that I don't have the little thing in my head that tells me what's not okay."
She snorts. That's possibly the biggest load of crap she's ever heard; if it were true, he wouldn't have been able to figure out what was evil and what wasn't. "Oh, you definitely have one. You just don't care."
He blinks at her, looking injured. "I care!"
"No, you don't," she says flatly. "You don't care when you cross a line. You see the line and you dance across it, pointing at it and laughing like it doesn't even apply to you at all."
Megamind falls quiet. Linda, rolling her eyes and wondering just what her children and husband are doing up in the attic that's taking them so long, heads back out to the living room with the water jug. She puts it down on the coffee table, then lowers herself into her armchair.
She can't escape him for very long, it seems. Megamind is suddenly there, too, standing between her armchair and the sofa, gazing at her with the full force of his focus. "You're right," he says.
Linda frowns at him. That's what Roxanne had said earlier, that she was right, and this is equally unnerving. "What?"
"You're right," he says again, hands by his sides, head tilted slightly. "I don't always care very much about playing by society's rules. And that probably does make me some kind of monster, by human standards."
She raises her eyebrows, unable to contain her sarcasm. "You think?"
Now his face contracts. His eyebrows pull together, and he raises his head and squares his shoulders. "But I am asking you, please, to give me the chance to show you I'm not the monster you think I am." His throat works, and he risks a shy smile. "I'm a different breed entirely."
Linda bites the inside of her cheek and forces herself to take a deep breath instead of snapping what she wants to say—he doesn't deserve that chance, he never will, and it doesn't matter what breed of monster he is; just that he is one. She breathes slowly through her nose and asks, as calmly as she can, "Why does this matter to you?"
His smile this time is more of a crooked, rueful grin, and he shifts his weight from foot to foot. "Because eventually I'd like to be able to trust you not to kill me in my sleep?"
Linda lets out a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "Seriously?"
He shrugs, still looking sheepish. "No…I'm not really asking for me. I'm used to people trying to kill me; I don't mind." Linda can't tell if he's being serious or not—he sounds serious enough, but then, he has to be a brilliant actor to be able to radiate constant sincerity the way he does. "This time, Roxanne is stuck in the middle," Megamind says earnestly. "You're her mother. You…you don't have to like me. I know you're never going to like me. Just give me a chance." He waits, but Linda only looks away, stares at the tree lying on the blanket on the floor. She won't believe him. She won't.
"I'm sorry," Megamind says after the silence drags on for a while. "I never—I never meant to hurt her. Or you. S-so, for what it's worth—"
Linda is quiet. "Enough."
"But I—"
"Enough!" She stands quickly, pain singing through her hips, and Megamind actually falls back a step. She shakes her head. "I don't want to hear it. I don't care whether you meant it or not. I don't care what you intended." The alien isn't the only one who knows how to present himself—Linda makes eye contact and holds his gaze, squares off with him, and this time he's on the defensive. "You hurt my daughter physically and emotionally, you repeatedly endangered her life and well-being, and that is something I can't forgive. And on top of that, now you're driving a wedge into my family."
A brief, stricken expression flits across Megamind's features. "With respect, Mrs. Ritchi," he whispers, apologetic, "I'm not the one driving the wedge."
Linda doesn't miss a beat. "You are the wedge," she snaps, and he flinches. "And you disgust me. So stop trying to trick your way into my good graces—I know the game you're playing, and it's not going to happen."
"There's no game," he insists, looking openly stunned. Sounding desperate. The blood is pounding in Linda's ears. She's held her rage at bay this long, but he won't stop pushing! And he has the audacity to hide it behind a vulnerable façade—he looks like a kicked puppy, seriously, how dare he try to manipulate her like that—and she's starting to crack, starting to waver in her resolve. That conversation with Minion had really given her some things to think about, but—her eyes widen slightly as she remembers that as goofy as he seems sometimes, he is a genius, and it's all an act, and…and he must have known she'd be listening to his conversation last night. So that's what that was about!
Time to put an end to this. She takes an angry step forward. "You aren't worth the time it would take for me to consider reevaluating my opinion of you, so you might as well give up now." Another step, and Megamind backs away, wide-eyed and hurt-looking, which only makes her angrier. "I will tolerate you. I will be civil with you in front of Roxanne. But I will never stop trying to show her who you really are, and you will never be part of this family."
Megamind pulls back as though she just slapped him, and for a moment, Linda thinks he's going to really react to that, but then his face just sort of falls. His lips thin and his eyebrows pull together and his shoulders slump. He looks…disappointed? That can't be right. She'd expected anger, she'd expected him to snap and snarl at her the way he did yesterday, but no, instead he simply looks resigned.
"Fine," he says quietly, "You want me to give up? Fine. Have it your way." He shrugs, his voice and his features bitter and cold. "I give up." And with that, he turns on his heel and heads for the stairs. He's going to go see what's taking the others so long. It's easier than sticking around and giving Linda the opportunity to gloat.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
He manages to keep himself under control through lunch and not dwell on things too much. Having Orson there helps immensely; the big man somehow manages to project his calm aura over the whole household, and it also helps that Linda and Megamind are able to interact with everyone else and not each other. Megamind is pretty sure Roxanne—who's smiling more often than not today—doesn't even notice the extra tension. And now that he's resolved to stop caring about what Linda thinks of him and stop worrying about offending her or pissing her off, he's feeling a bit more relaxed. He'd never expected to feel relaxed after another altercation with Linda ending on a bad note, but there it is.
If he's being honest with himself, though, he's relaxed but he's also upset. He does still care what she thinks, even if he doesn't want to, and maybe he should have expected that she'd refuse to let him try. In retrospect, he probably should have. She hates him with good reason, so why should she let him even attempt to change her opinion of him?
He'd hoped she might do it for Roxanne's sake. But that's not going to happen either; she's too stubborn. No, Linda's rejection of him this time was total, and the weight of it hangs like a stone in his stomach, ruining any appetite he might otherwise have had. He picks at his lunch and tries not to think about it, without much success.
After lunch, he sits and watches the family decorate the gigantic tree Orson brought home—which they have managed, against all odds and possibly several laws of physics, to squeeze into the living room despite its height. Honestly, he'd rather watch than participate. It's a better distraction than he'd thought it might be; it isn't perfect, but it does take his mind off things better than any of the lunch conversations did.
Just like when he'd watched Drew and Roxanne help their mother in the kitchen, it's clear to Megamind that everyone has done this many times before. They unwrap tissue-covered ornaments one by one and either hang them or pass them off to somebody else. Strangely enough, some of the little figurines and baubles appear to belong to certain people—at one point, Orson unwraps a little silver cradle and looks around for Roxanne, saying it's hers. Shortly after that, Roxanne unwraps a silver bell and passes it to her brother with both hands, and judging by the way he smiles and gets up from his reading to hang it, it's definitely his.
At one point, Roxanne pulls a cheeky mouse on a red ball off the tree. "Aw, who hung this one?"
Drew glances up. "Sorry, that was me."
"It's mine," she says reproachfully. "I'm moving it."
And there's almost always a memory associated with the ornaments. Even the balls, except for the plain colored ones, seem to have little stories attached, and the Ritchis recount them to each other without being asked. They're from neighbors long moved away, or family members, or they came from vacations. That's one thing Megamind has always wondered about: why anyone would bother putting multitudes of pretty things on a tree and then, a week or a month later, taking it all back off again. The utter uselessness of the idea has always stunned him.
This makes sense, though. The ornaments are memories. Little shards of family.
Megamind looks around at them—the four of them, Orson laughing at something Linda is saying, Roxanne shoving Drew and grinning, teasing him for sitting around reading while everyone else is having fun. The way Drew's mouth pulls wide in a smile when he shoves her back and pretends to return pointedly to his magazine, the illusion of which is ruined when his father turns and asks him a question and he answers without thinking.
It's all so comfortable. These are people who are totally, utterly at ease with one another despite all the differences in personality. They might fight, they might argue and yell, but they're a family. They couldn't get rid of each other if they tried. Maybe if they really wanted to, but they don't really want to. They have each other to fall back on. Linda and Roxanne are at each other's throats half the time, usually, but today, there they are chuckling at Orson's antics. Drew and his father have—as far as Megamind can tell—absolutely nothing in common, but they're still casually swapping stories about work.
Megamind had Mitch and Guduza, but he's always been surprised at how long they remained cellmates. His other uncles' tense friendships with each other were shifting, never constant. He calls Mitch and Guduza, and the warden, to some degree, his family. But he's never had anything like what he's seeing here, and he still isn't sure if he ever will. The kind of family that wants you even when they're upset with you. The kind of family that he will want, even when he is upset with them.
He has Minion, and that's all he's ever had. And Minion is family, but he isn't a family, not a whole one. Maybe—maybe—Roxanne will be there, too. He rubs his thumb against the ring on his finger and thinks he might have a chance of this with Roxanne.
After a while he turns his focus to a piece of mostly-blank computer paper, folded in half and braced against a book, and after looking at it for a few seconds, he starts brushing a stub of pencil over the surface. At first he still pays attention to the conversation as well as his work, still participates, but after a while his mouth is a thin line and his eyebrows are drawn together and down and the pencil jerks in short strokes across the folded page. Eventually the strokes begin to come further and further apart, and his expression slowly turns from frustrated to focused and then studiously blank.
Roxanne heads to the kitchen, claiming she needs to go and re-fill her drink, which she does. When she comes back, though, she slips down on the couch beside him and peers over his shoulder.
She'd expected some kind of plan or other, and she's surprised to find that he's sketching, instead. He rarely draws anything other than designs, but this is a man and a woman, obviously his species, both bald. She would have thought the man was a self-portrait if the beard and the nose hadn't been so different—Megamind has his mother's nose, she realizes. These can only be his parents. But they look so worried.
He puts the pencil down on the side table, presses his lips together. She looks at him. He tilts his head towards her but doesn't look up.
"You're lucky," he says softly.
She rests one arm along the back of the couch around his shoulders, and leans close and presses her lips very briefly to his temple. "I wish I could have met them," she murmurs in a similar tone before settling back.
He nods. "So do I." There's a pause. "I wish I could say they would have liked you, but really, how should I know?" He wrinkles his nose and glances over at her. "I don't even know if they would have liked me very much." Roxanne pulls away a little and gives him a Look, and he chuckles and looks back down at the picture. He knows. He's kidding.
She smiles gently and nods in the direction of her own parents—Linda is finally leaving the room to shower and dress for dinner; she and Orson are going out later. "Well. Even if they didn't like me, it couldn't possibly be worse than your trial by fire, right?"
That gets a real laugh, if a short one. "Right," he replies.
"What are you two talking about over here?" Orson says, and before either of them can say or do anything he's peering over Megamind's other shoulder. "Oh, well hey. Look at that. You do this just now?"
He nods, suddenly stiff and suddenly very glad that Linda is no longer in the room. "I—yes. Eidetic memory."
Orson lifts the paper from his fingers and holds it further in the light, squinting at it. After a moment he has to take his reading glasses out of his shirt pocket to see better. "This is incredible. These are your folks, aren't they?" He doesn't sound like he expects an answer, simply muttering, "Wow." Then he looks back down at the blue alien sitting by his daughter on the sofa, hands twisting in his lap and shoulders tight, and he says, "The loss of T Pyxidis was devastating."
Megamind looks up, shocked, mouth open to question—but no sound comes out. Orson's ruddy face is kind.
"We could've learned so much from you," he says gently, and offers the scrap of paper back.