Megamind is in the middle of debugging the new operating system he's writing for the brainbots when his phone starts buzzing. His fingers stumble on the keys and he curses under his breath, but his attention has already flipped over and turned away from his task—his phone only ever rings this late at night for interesting reasons. Usually for business reasons. And he has been waiting to hear back from one of his more trustworthy sources about the location of one Theodore Price, who went conspicuously quiet about a week ago; Megamind suspects he has skipped town. How to proceed towards the man if that's the case...he is still up in the air about that. Price is still an unknown threat, but if he has left Metro completely and doesn't show signs of returning, he may not be worth Megamind's energy. That being said, Megamind is a supervillain and he does not take kindly to threats; Price frightened and threatened Roxanne and Megamind is still furious at the breathtaking presumption of that. If ever he was going to pull out all the stops and make an unfortunate example of someone, now would indeed be the time to do it.
But that turns out to be a problem to think about later, because the caller ID is—
"Roxanne," he says, answering on the second ring, "ollo! To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?"
"I need to see you," she says, immediate and decisive. "Can we go swimming? Please?"
Megamind blinks, frowns, looks at his watch to make sure he isn't losing his mind and it really is as late as he thinks. Sure enough, it reads 01:09. "Um," he says, sitting back in his chair, hoping this isn't what he thinks it is. "It's very late."
"I need to see you," she says again. "And I, I'd love to swim with you, can I—oh, can you show me the reef? I haven't seen the reef yet."
On one hand, he would love to show her the saltwater pool in Evil Lair's third sublevel. But, on the other hand… "You have work in the morning," he says. "Of course we—we can swim, of course I would be delighted to swim with you, Roxanne, but—tomorrow? I can—I can come and, and pick you up from work, and you can come to Evil Lair tomorrow, and we can swim then."
There is a pause.
Finally she says, "Okay. Tomorrow. Yes. Okay. Thank you, I…thanks. Goodnight," she offers, "I love you," but Megamind isn't having that.
"No, wait—are you—is everything all right? Should I—" He hesitates. He doesn't know how to ask was it another dream; if Roxanne hasn't mentioned it, maybe she wants to not talk about it. But she did say I need to see you before she suggested swimming. She said that twice.
He swallows, ventures, "...Do you want me to come over?"
"Yes please," she says immediately, sounding very relieved. Megamind relaxes a little; oh good, he guessed correctly! "Yes, if you—sorry, if you aren't busy, that would be—can you just, just come over for a while; please come over, I want to see you."
Something is wrong.
And he wants to ask, he wants to ask, but they've only been dating for a couple of weeks and he just doesn't know how to handle this sort of thing over the phone, so he simply gets to his feet and says, "Of course. I'm on my way."
"Thank you," says Roxanne, "I love you, I'm sorry," and his heart gives a hard pulse and he smiles in spite of his worry.
"I love you, too," he tells her. "Please do not ever be sorry for wanting to see me."
And she must hear the more serious, sincere note in his voice as he says it, because she makes a sort of shaky sound into the phone and says, "Right. Right, okay. Thank you, I love you, I'll see you soon."
"Yes, I'll be right there," he promises, and ends the call so he can get back into his leathers.
He cloaks the hoverbike and lets himself in through her balcony. It's easiest; the door is never locked, anymore.
It's June, now, and the breeze is still cool at night. The day's warmth is probably entirely gone from where he knows it sometimes lingers in the shalestones of Roxanne's deck—Megamind had been barefoot here a few evenings ago, something he never would have ever believed he would feel secure enough to attempt. And he had been surprised how warm the stones could be even after the sun went down.
(That was a lovely evening, sitting outside and laughing together as the sky darkened. Megamind had no idea that sitting and talking could be so much fun. He had no idea it could be so wonderfully nice to feel stone on the soles of his bare feet. It had felt right, somehow, in a way he wasn't able to express. He had tried to tell Roxanne, tried to express this thing he has no words for, and...she seemed to understand? She had reached out and squeezed his hand and said, "Someday, I'll take you somewhere you can feel grass." Megamind still isn't sure what to make of that.)
Roxanne's apartment is warmer than the night air, and the space is dark and quiet when he enters. He was expecting that; given the time that she called, he's pretty sure she was in bed and had probably just woken up. So he takes off his boots by the door, and leaves his gloves and his mantle and collar on the little coffee table, and then finally he climbs the stairs to Roxanne's semi-loft bedroom with his heart in his throat and his guilt all in a tangle in the back of his mind.
These sleep disturbances are, after all, entirely his fault. This is only the third, but he can't say he's surprised at the repeat.
There's a good chance Roxanne will have already fallen back asleep, so he enters as stealthily as he can: pull back a little on the doorknob so the latch won't click against the strike plate as it releases, turn the knob completely, then push the door open. But Roxanne is sitting at her little table in the dark in her dressing gown with her arms crossed over her chest, staring with wide eyes out the tall window by her bed.
Megamind nods and closes the door behind himself, then crosses to Roxanne and crouches down by her chair the way his uncle Mitch used to do for him when he was upset.
"Roxanne," he says, and—
Roxanne gasps and startles badly, head snapping around and down to look at him, but her expression of alarm shifts immediately to anguished relief and she says, "Hey," and leans down to wrap her arms over his shoulders.
"Oh," Megamind says, catching her and rising, pulling her up to her feet and into his arms in the same strong movement, hugging her hard. "Oh, no. Roxanne. You're okay."
"I know I'm okay," she whispers.
He blinks, then thinks, shit. Yep, shit, that is exactly what this was about, then. He was right. "I am also okay," he tells her, and her arms around him tighten. One of these days he'll remember to lead with I'm okay. "I'm okay. I'm here, I'm safe. I'm okay."
She nods, face hidden against his neck. "I know. Sorry."
He shakes his head and rests his cheek on her hair, does not in any way relax his hold on her as he begins to sing comfort, comfort in his chest, a rolling minor third like the back and forth moan of a cello. "I'm not upset," he tells her. "You are doing nothing wrong."
"You were busy," she mumbles, still with a note of apologetic protest in her voice. "You were doing things."
"Unimportant things. They can wait."
"But you hate waiting."
He blinks into the dark. Oh, is that why she's…? Of course, of course; she's seen how single-minded he can be sometimes, how irritable and snappish he gets when Minion calls him away from something.
"No, no," he tells her, squeezing his hands against her, "oh, that's not…no, Roxanne, this is different."
She makes a soft sound, an unhappy sound. He shakes his head again, tries again. "Beloved, believe me, if I was engaged in something pressing, I would have asked Minion to bring you to me. But no, you're more—important than—you're. More important than my work," he says, blinking into the dark, surprised to realize that's actually true and trying not to let on that he's surprised. He shakes himself, recovers with, "You aren't bothering me. You and Minion come first."
Roxanne stays quiet, just squeezes him hard and nods a little bit.
"I mean that," he says quietly. "I do. And I'm—I am so sorry about all this, Roxanne. If I had known it would affect you so badly, I…"
"It's not your fault," she says. Megamind snorts, and she amends, "Well, okay. It is. But I don't hold you at fault for it; you couldn't possibly have known. And it's—it's not even really that bad," she adds, finally lifting her head. Megamind peers at her, but she keeps her eyes down, her face pinched and upset. "It's all just…anxiety dreams. Most of the time they're not even about you guys!" She swallows, shrugs hard. "I'm, I'm trapped somewhere or I'm looking for someone, or something, and I'm running out of time, and…and then I just wake up feeling like you're gone or missing or…I don't know." She sighs.
Megamind ducks his head a little more, hoping to catch her gaze. "That still qualifies as bad," he says. "That's still upsetting. Disturbing to you."
She nods, then leans forward and kisses him.
"Come to bed?" she asks, when she pulls back. There's a note of hope in her voice. "Can you stay?"
Oh. He. Was not actually expecting that. It's always sort of a toss-up whether Roxanne will want to spend the night or go home when she's at Evil Lair for the evening, and Megamind has not spent very many nights at her apartment yet.
"I don't have my pajamas," he says, but Roxanne shakes her head.
"That's okay. I just…I would like you to stay," she says, "if you don't mind staying."
"Oh, I more than don't mind." He smiles at her in the dark, and is relieved to receive an answering smile. "I would be happy to oblige. Here, let me just—"
He turns and lifts his hands to the zip of his leathers at the back of his neck to get it started, then pauses when Roxanne's warm fingers brush his own away. His heart does a skipping, tugging thing in his chest when she steps close and presses her mouth to the back of his head before she pulls the tab down. It doesn't feel sexual; the kiss is well away from his neck. It just feels…affectionate. Natural. Megamind has a girlfriend who kisses his head as she helps him undress and it feels natural and he's so happy and so full of regret for that day on the dock, and…
He wiggles out of his pants while Roxanne drapes his shirt over her chair, and then a thought occurs and he stills.
"Um," he says.
Roxanne's bedroom is a quiet place, a gentle place. Megamind has not been here many times since he the two of them started seeing one another, no, but he was comfortable in her home if not her bedroom even before all of this. He's safe enough here, isn't he? Isn't he?
When he doesn't continue, Roxanne looks up from where she was hanging her dressing gown on its hook on her bathroom door. Megamind is standing where she left him, in his bare feet and undersuit with the bottoms of his leathers in his hands, sort of staring at nothing.
"Hmm?"
His eyes flash towards her. He comes to life like a wind-up toy, turning jerkily in her direction and flickering a nervous not-really-a-smile. His head is tipped down and he's looking at her sort of sideways.
"Um," he says again, looking very tense and nervous. "It is…late. You have work in the morning. I don't…and I, I am tired, too. But could I…would you mind if…?" He flutters a hand towards the neckline of his stretchy undersuit. "It clings," he says, as though this is an explanation. "I can sleep in this, but…usually not very well."
Roxanne blinks, unsure if she's understanding him correctly. "You don't have to wear it," she says. "Did you want me to find you something? I don't know if I have anything that'll fit you, but I can see if…" She trails off; he's shaking his head.
"You need to sleep," he says, "and if it's all right with you, I can, I can sleep…um. In, in my skin."
Roxanne smiles. "It's all right with me," she tells him, touched that he would trust her so deeply. "Of course it is, if you're comfortable."
"I think I will be." He stretches the neck of his undersuit out so he can shimmy his arms free; Roxanne goes ahead and crawls back into bed while he fights with the material.
When he finally turns to face her, skyclad and blushing with his nervous elbows slicked tight to his sides, Roxanne just smiles up at his face and holds up her blanket and sheet for him to climb in underneath with her. She can't help but peek at the rest of him as he gets into bed—he's so pretty, he really is—but if he notices her looking, he doesn't mention it, and she doesn't say anything either.
"You had, ah…you mentioned swimming with me," he says as he cuddles up beside her and pulls a pillow in under his neck. "When you called. And of course we can go swimming, when it isn't the middle of the night. But why that? Specifically?"
She sighs and curls into his arms, resting her head high on his bare chest and slipping her arm around over his body with her hand on his ribs. He's so narrow that she could probably wrap her arm under his body, if she wanted to. "Oh," she says, "it was just…I had one dream earlier that wasn't specific, but then I fell asleep again afterwards and…this last one was, um. Extra-not-good. So I want to see your eyes again."
"My eyes?"
"I want to be okay with your other eyelids. I keep remembering them. They looked fine underwater! But they looked dead in the air."
"Like this?" he asks, and she steels herself and lifts her head and looks up at him.
Even prepared, she still sucks a sharp breath in through her nose at the dull, milky film over his eyes. "Yes," she says. "Yes, like that."
"But see, you can see my eyes move!" He looks from side to side, and he's right: Roxanne can see his irises shifting around. After a second, Megamind blinks his regular eyelids over them and gives her a sharp grin that she wasn't expecting. "Perhaps I am a zombie, ooooo," he teases, and Roxanne barks a startled laugh in spite of herself. Megamind laughs, too, but his arms around her are strong and reassuring and he isn't letting go. "They really are okay," he tells her, blinking the secondary eyelids back to the corners of his eyes. "They've even saved my vision, a few times—like protective glasses, you know. And I can see just fine through them, even in air; things just look a little more gray."
"Huh." That does help to hear, a little. She isn't sure why. But it's even more helpful to see his eyes this way again: clear and alive and shining in the night. Roxanne swallows and lays her head back down.
"Anyway," she says, with Megamind's body cool and solid beneath her and his heartbeat steady and alive under her ear, "I thought…maybe swimming with you. Maybe seeing you use them in, in a fun way, or at least a neutral way…" She sighs. "I love you. And right now, there's a part of you that bothers me. I don't like that."
"There's a…wait, is it…is it really just the one part?" He sounds hesitant. "Truly? Just the nictitating membranes? That's all?"
She nods. "Pretty much. It's stupid."
"It's a miracle, is what it is," he declares, and Roxanne recoils, pulling her head back and frowning into her darkened bedroom in disbelief. "You've seen more of me than any other adult alive, and that's the only thing that bothers you, so far? And there's even a reason for it. Roxanne," he says, "most humans are put off by…pretty much all of my everything. I realize this distresses you, but, from my perspective…" He shakes his head.
"The bar is on the floor," she tells him, flat. "Sweetheart, the bar hit the floor and started digging."
He shrugs. "Be that as it may. I can at least assure you that I am neither hurt nor offended to learn that my second eyelids bother you. And," he adds, "I would be happy to swim with you and show them off in a more natural setting."
Roxanne exhales, nods, doesn't press the issue. "I'm not as graceful as you are in the water," she begins, but falters when Megamind lifts his hand to tap the end of her nose.
"You," he tells her, "are adorable in the water. I think the way you swim is very cute."
"Cute?"
"Yes! Like a wobbly puppy that doesn't know where any of its feet are, it's great."
She laughs a little, mostly in surprise. "I—honestly do not know how to take that. I'm glad you like it?"
"I do." He lifts his head and nuzzles his nose into her hair, kisses the top of her head. "It was meant to be sweet."
She scowls and rubs her cheek absently against his chest. "But I don't wa-ha-aahnt—bluh. I don't want to be a puppy, I want to be an otter."
"That was quite a yawn," says Megamind, amused.
"Shh. You sshhh. I'm tired and you're making fun of me," she mock-pouts. Then she sighs. Yawns again. "I guess I'll just have to swim more," she says as she exhales. "Work on my core. Get super buff."
"I would not complain."
She chuckles. "God, I love you. And thank you for coming over, my love. I'll…try not to wake you up if I jump awake again a couple hours from now."
"No, wake me," he says, meaning it. "I want to help. I know the kinds of dreams you're talking about; they're awful. So annoying. I am sorry you're going through this, Roxanne."
She lifts herself up on one elbow and bends to kiss him—but has to stop for another yawn; when it passes and she can finally look down again, Megamind's mouth is twitching and his witchlight eyes are sparkling with poorly-hidden laughter. "—ugh," Roxanne says, and swallows, and laughs at herself. And then finally she kisses him, heart thumping hard at the way his lips curve in a smile against her own. They're soft and alive, and his face when she eases back is as starry-eyed and happy as it always is when he gets snuggly kisses.
"Can't even regret it, really," she admits, with a somewhat rueful smile. "That's what feels so stupid. That day was horrible, yes, but…it's what brought me to you. Romantically." She rubs her fingertips over the sharp wing of his collarbone, and he curls his hand gently around her wrist and squeezes. "If not for all that, I…sure, I would be sleeping soundly, but," she laughs a little, "I wouldn't be here with you, either."
"You wouldn't need to be here with me," he says, eyebrows twitching together for a moment, but Roxanne shakes her head.
"I want to be here with you," she tells him, and his expression softens again. "I don't care why it happened, in the end. I'm just glad it did."
He swallows, squeezes her arm again, then reaches up and draws her down for one last quick kiss before nudging her to cuddle back down with her head on his chest and his arm resting softly on her waist.
"I'm glad, too," he finally says, quiet. "I am sorry, but. I am also glad."
Roxanne tips her head and mouths a lopsided kiss on the skin over his heart, now fully relaxed against his side. "I'm not sorry. I can call you in the middle of the night to come to bed with me because I had a bad dream and you aren't upset about being interrupted, and, and I can talk to you and you don't…make me feel stupid for…mm. Stupid things. Mmmnyou're…a'dream," she mumbles. She closes her eyes, curled up comfortably around and on top of his slender frame as she falls asleep and sighs, "You're a dream, Megamind; you're so worth a few nightmares…"
He's—
He wraps his arms around Roxanne under her covers and holds her as tight as he can without actually squeezing, blinking hard for a moment before finally giving up and closing his eyes with a shaky sigh. Her bed is soft, and so is she, and he is bare and unprotected and somehow feeling safe regardless, and his heart is so full that he aches with it.
None of this is what he was expecting when Roxanne asked if he wanted to date her. It's been nearly two weeks and nothing bad has happened between them; he wasn't expecting to make it much further than two days. But here she is, asleep in his arms and ghosting warm, slow breaths over his chest, because she feels safe with him, comforted with him. He is the one who gave her these worries in the first place, and she could so easily blame him—maybe not even in a resentful way, but she could at least blame him—and she doesn't. Megamind knows he didn't know, knows it can't really be entirely his fault…but he is not accustomed to other people holding blame away from him and dismissing misfortunate happenings as accidents around him. Always, always, it is Megamind's fault when things go wrong. Always, always, it is Megamind's fault and the world is angry with him.
Until now. Until Roxanne said yes, okay: this was your fault, but that does not mean I fault you for it.
She feels safe with him. She says he is worth the nightmares he caused her. There can be no declaration of love greater than this, Megamind is sure.
And he feels safe with her, too! He really does. He doesn't feel worth the nightmares, of course, but—but if—if Roxanne says he is, then…
…and it is up to her to decide what he is worth, to her. That is for her to decide. He can let her decide that, and by the same turn, he can decide for himself that she is worth whatever might happen to him if he slips into her bed in nothing but his skin to hold her as she sleeps.
Megamind had not been planning on sleeping much tonight, if he slept at all. He sleeps when sleep finds him, which is rarely, and at odd hours. He has slept at night more consistently in the last couple of weeks with Roxanne than he has in the last couple of years by himself. It's nice. And this, tonight…he would have expected himself to be at least somewhat annoyed. Not at being interrupted or coming over to comfort Roxanne, no, but—she's right, he was busy, and occupied, and part of his mind still lingers on his task. Being asked to stay, to leave his task and stay away—he would have expected to feel annoyed at that.
He is happy, instead.
He is honestly happy to stay here, with her, and to unexpectedly table his plans for the evening. The new operating system can wait. Megamind can lie here with his eyes closed and continue to map it out in his head, or he can sleep; either way, this is so nice and he is so very happy to be here.
And he probably will even sleep. He can already feel the fog tugging at the edges of his mind, curling behind his eyes.
So, this is what contentment feels like, he thinks. The heavy covers settle around him when he shifts a bit to get more comfortable, and Roxanne sighs on his chest and hums in her sleep. So, this is peace.
Megamind has a lot to do. A lot to hold in his mind, to worry and work on. But it can wait, it can wait. He can sleep. Quiet room, soft bed, warm Roxanne who loves him. Full heart. If she can find peace in sleeping with him in her bed, Megamind will cuddle up and bed down with her whenever she calls for him. There are more important things in his world than his work, and this is—happily, joyfully—one of them.
He matches Roxanne's breathing, and relaxes, and drifts himself away in the gentleness they're building together.
