content warning for Hal being more of a creep than usual & brief cigarettes. (kids, don't bother with cigarettes, they taste like pavement and they make your head spin in a not-good way. I've had a couple and they are just not worth the scratchy throat. (BUT, as Megamind says, they are a convenient excuse to loiter!) sadly, there are no Waffle Houses in the part of Michigan where Metro is located, but I wasn't sure if Michigan has an equivalent chain with the right feeling of all-night chaos. IHOP just isn't the same. and Metro isn't a real city, so it gets a Waffle House.)
no cute babies in this chapter, sorry! next chapter, for sure.
Chapter 4
My Interpretation - MIKA
"Aaaaand wrap that up and give it to a child on Christmas! 'Cause we're done!" Hal exclaims, lowering his camera. Roxanne relaxes and tips her head from side to side to crack her neck.
"Awesome," she says, tired. "Finally. I can't wait to get back to the newsroom, I hate these all-day stints."
"Yep, they're pretty much the worst," Hal agrees, packing the camera away in its bag before hefting it into the van so he can start disassembling the microphone setup. "Can't believe it took us 'til eight to get this wrapped. That traffic jam earlier was a major buzzkill. Plans this evening?"
It's the first time he's asked that in a non-snippy way in a while, and he's been weirdly close to his old chipper self all day. Roxanne sighs. "Not really," she says. "I'm just tired. Want to go home and put my feet up."
"Yeah, same," Hal says, startling her into looking over at him. He isn't looking at her; he appears to be focused on the mic case. "I, uh, I picked up this old Atari system on Ebay and I am sooo close to finishing restoring it. They don't make games like that anymore, I can't wait to try them out."
"Huh," Roxanne says. "Neat."
"Yeah, I'm pretty hyped about it. I—" His phone buzzes, pings its ringtone. "Yello," he says, and Roxanne hears someone on the other end speaking in an urgent tone of voice. "What? They—aw, c'mon, we just packed up!" He heaves a huge sigh. "Fine. Yeah. Damascus…7 East Walnut. Got it. Do you know if—hello? Hello?" He pulls the phone away from his ear. "Dammit," he snaps. "Shit. My stupid phone just friggin died; can you call Carl and see if he knows how long this thing's expected to go?"
She blinks. If there are changes of plan, Carl usually calls her first, not Hal. But it's not a big thing. "Sure," she says, and takes out her phone. "Let me just…oh. Well." She glances at Hal. "Mine is dead, too."
"Ugh," Hal says, throwing his head back and slouching his shoulders dramatically. "Fine."
"Isn't there a charger in the van?"
"Oh—no, I uh—I cleaned it out two days ago. For the uh, the cleaning crew. Didn't you get the email? Huh. But yeah, I haven't got round to putting everything back yet." He grimaces sheepishly at her as they climb into the van. "Some timing, huh?"
Roxanne bites her lip. "You said East Walnut? I'm not super familiar with that part of town."
"I'm pretty sure I know how to get there. He said it was industrial waterfront."
"So what's up with this, anyway?" Roxanne asks. Hal turns the key in the ignition and the news van sputters to life.
"Marcellus's crew can't make it to an evening gig," he says. "It's a microbrewery and gastropub. Damascus Brewing. For the local highlight? You know? And hey, uh," he laughs nervously, "silver lining—maybe we can grab a drink after! Kidding, kidding. Haaa."
Roxanne groans and clunks her forehead gently against the window. Great. Evening interviews are not her favorite; she's at her best much earlier in the day. And with her phone dead, she can't do any last-minute research on the venue before they get there. Well…okay, she'll…ask about the menu, that's always a safe bet. How they got started. Definitely the location—industrial waterfront is mostly warehouses south of the harbor; not a popular choice for an eatery. Then again, 'microbrewery and gastropub' says 'hipster hangout,' so maybe that's intentional? She can ask how much renovation they had to do, too; that tends to get restaurateurs ranting like nothing else.
The old van chugs towards the harbor as Roxanne stares out the window, disgruntled. She really is completely done with today. Nothing particularly bad happened; she's just…bored.
"So," she says, to fill the silence. "Atari, huh? What are you going to play first, once you've got it up and running?"
"Oh man, I am so glad you asked," Hal says. "So, it's a 2600, right? A classic. There were some great games released for that run and I'm itching to get my hands on a copy of Yar's Revenge. I do also want to finally play that old E.T. game that was supposedly so godawful. Like a test, you know? Just to see? And I—"
Clunk.
Hal stops talking. Roxanne sits up. "Did you—"
"—hear that? Yeah, lemme pull over."
He puts the van in park and hops out. Roxanne watches him in the side mirror as he jogs back along the road, then slows, stops, and bends over. Picks something up.
Starts to slowly walk back.
Roxanne gets out of the van. Warehouses stand tall on either side of the mostly-deserted street. "What is it?" she calls.
"Not good!" Hal yells back. "Grab your walking shoes, Roxaroo. We're gonna be hoofing it."
Roxanne keeps a pair of sneakers and clean socks in a seldom-used pocket of the microphone bag so she doesn't have to wear her heels constantly between interviews. She sighs. Today just keeps getting better and better! Two dead phones and a dead van? Awesome. Just fantastic. "You're sure we can't use the van?"
"It's the oil cap," Hal says as he gets closer. "Found it lying in a big ol' black puddle back there. At least we're close. We can probably make it in time if we walk fast, and somebody there's gotta have a phone."
Roxanne ties her shoes and puts her heels in her purse, then slings the microphone bag onto her shoulder with another sigh. "Okay. Let's do this."
About an hour later, Roxanne is staring up at the facade of a building that looks exactly like all the others up and down the deserted street. She's been trying to squash her misgivings for the past little while, but they will no longer be squashed, and she's starting to think that's probably a good thing.
"I," she says, "am not going in there. This isn't the place."
"It says Damascus right above the door, what are you talking about?" He turns the handle, pulls the—unlocked? that's odd—door open. Roxanne backs away.
"Yeah, in half-assed spray paint. There are no windows, Hal. It's dark in there, there's no parking lot for customers or signage or anything. This isn't the place." She shakes her head. "This is…maybe it's for off-site storage, or something, but I am not going inside. We'll just reschedule; they're probably closed, now, anyway." She takes another step back. "Look, let's just…the main drag isn't too far behind us. Cabs stop running at eleven; it's probably only about nine or nine-thirty. I've got good shoes, you've got good shoes. We can make it. Come on."
"If you just—"
"I'm not going in," Roxanne snaps. She isn't sure why, but she has a very bad feeling and there's only so much rationalizing she can do. "You can go if you want to, but I'm leaving."
"Ugh, fine," Hal mutters. "Yeah, it's…it's dark. You're right, they're closed. Fine. Whatever. Follow me, then, I guess. I know a shortcut."
Half an hour later, they've seen barely any cars. Roxanne is tempted to call bullshit on this shortcut, but she's only been to this part of town a few times. And this is the first day in forever that Hal has been anything close to normal at her; she's loath to rock that boat. Still, she's getting tired. The microphone bag isn't extremely heavy, but it's not exactly featherweight, either.
"So, this blows," she says, after a while.
Hal makes an ugly scoffing noise. "You're telling me. We could've at least checked to see if there was a phone."
"In a creepy warehouse with no windows at night? With no flashlight and nobody around? I don't think so."
"Yeah, yeah."
A couple minutes later, it's Roxanne's turn to make the ugly scoffing sound. "And it's starting to rain!" she exclaims. "Great."
Hal sighs. "My place isn't far from here. It's like four blocks west. Let's just go there instead and wait it out."
I'd rather just get wet, Roxanne thinks, but that would be mean. "It's fine," she says. "If your place is west, then downtown is off to the right. If we just head that direction, we should be able to catch a cab—"
"It's only four blocks, Roxie," Hal says, in a startlingly sharp voice. "It's not far. It's fine."
She frowns. "Hal, I really don't think that's—"
There's a hiss of tires on wet pavement and lights and a low hum going past with a breeze, and then a squealing of tires as a vehicle neither of them can see brakes suddenly. Roxanne stops walking, her heart leaping. Is that…
The hum approaches from in front of them, and suddenly the invisible car shimmers into visibility, reversing towards them and then stopping.
"Oh, thank god," she blurts, startling herself.
Megamind hops out of the driver's seat. "Miss Ritchi?" he says, sounding confused. "What are you doing out here at this time of night? Alone? In the rain? Oh—" He jumps a little as his eyes land on Hal, and his eyebrows lower into a sort of wary glare. "Not alone."
"Megamind," she says, relieved. "Am I glad to see you."
He blinks. "I don't know," he says. "Are you?" Then he sort of jumps and shakes himself. "That's! Missing the point! You, ah, you look like you could use a ride."
Roxanne nods and hefts the bag higher on her shoulder as she heads towards him. "That would be great. Just take us to the office, we have to get the equipment back and I still have some things I want to finish up—"
Hal dodges forward. "Roxie! What are you doing? You can't go with him!"
"I absolutely can," Roxanne returns, equally sharp. "Hal. It's raining, my feet hurt, both our phones are dead, and he's offering us a ride. It's too late for him to be pulling any kind of Eeevil Plot," she drops her tone into sarcasm and waves her hands a little. "Anyway, Megamind—if you could drop us at the newsroom, that would be fantastic."
Megamind has circled around the car to open the passenger side door for her. "Of course." He glances at Hal. "I assume by 'us' you mean your cameraman—"
"Hal Stewart."
"—Hal Schtewart needs a ride as well?"
"Ugh," says Hal, yanking his door open and flopping into the back seat with his camera bag. "Fine. Yeah. Fine. My car is still at the office anyway. And it's Stewart."
"That's what I said. Schtewart." He glances at Roxanne as he gets back into the car.
"Will your office be open?" he asks, a while later. "It's past ten o'clock at night."
"It's fine," she says, still studying the dizzying array of controls set into the dashboard of the invisible car. "Hal has a keycard."
"I see," says Megamind, slowly. "You don't have a keycard?"
"The film crews get them because they work weird hours," Roxanne says. "Journalists and reporters work eight to five and the building is unlocked from five to eight."
Megamind doesn't say anything to that, but he says it pretty loudly. Roxanne rolls her eyes.
"We work eight to five at the office," she amends. "Usually. I'll probably just run up, grab my laptop, and get a cab home."
Megamind frowns a little. "You…work too much," he says, quiet. "I—um. Minion. Worries."
Roxanne blinks, startled, and opens her mouth, but Hal finally speaks up from the back seat. "He shouldn't worry," he snaps. "That's not something to worry about. She doesn't need you to worry about her."
Megamind's eyes flick to him in the rearview, then to Roxanne's hip where her seat belt is—and then he slams on the brake. Roxanne gasps and lurches forward as her seat belt locks, and Hal yelps.
"Ow! Son of a—"
"Oops, I guess we're here," Megamind says loudly.
"Fucking finally," Hal snarls, and he's out of the car like a shot and slamming the door behind him. Roxanne winces.
Megamind sighs and looks over at Roxanne. "I don't know about him," he says. "Miss Ritchi, he—"
"He's fine," Roxanne says, rolling her eyes. "He's just tired."
Megamind bites his lip. "And you're certain you don't need a lift?"
"Yeah," she says, in the process of gathering up her purse and the microphone set. "I'm fine. You're a lifesaver, though," she adds, sending him a tired smile. "You didn't have to do that. It wasn't terribly evil of you."
"As if anyone would ever believe you," Megamind says, and he watches her as she gets out of the car, gives him a wave through the window, and heads away up the stairs of her building.
Roxanne jogs up the steps towards Hal. "Hey," she says. "Thanks for waiting."
"Yeah, yeah," Hal mutters, and swipes his card. The keypad blinks red.
"Oh, come on," says Hal, and swipes it again. "Come on." Again.
Red.
"Great," he snaps. "Great. Stupid keycard, stupid—Megamind, stupid—"
"Guess we're not getting in, huh."
Hal sighs loudly. "Ugh," he says, for the umpteenth time that evening. "Whatever. It's whatever. Let's just…get this stuff into my car and I'll drive you home."
Roxanne frowns. Hal tends to park in their building's underground parking garage.
The empty underground parking garage. With her dead phone.
She hesitates, her misgivings returning and rising and twisting in her gut. There have been…an unusual number of abandoned areas with Hal, this evening, haven't there? Plus him trying to get her to go home with him again, which…isn't promising.
"I'm going to call it a night here, I think," she says slowly, trying to hand him the microphone case. He doesn't take it. "I'll just catch a cab."
Hal rolls his eyes. "Look, Roxie, I don't know what your problem is, but how about you get over it, okay? Just let me drive you home."
"No, I really think I'm good," Roxanne says, setting the microphones on the damp concrete under the awning. "Good night, Hal."
"God stop being such a stuck up, prissy bitch and just take the fucking ride," Hal snaps.
"No," Roxanne snaps back, thrown and alarmed at the abrupt increase in aggression. Those misgivings are screaming, now. "I am finding a cab." She steps back, and Hal lunges forward and makes a grab for her arm. She wrenches it out of his grasp, stumbles back. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with you?" He throws up his hands. "Every time! Every time I tried to be nice to you, you have been a total bitch! And I keep trying to be nice and you keep sticking your head farther and farther up your own ass!"
"I don't have my head up my ass," Roxanne protests, bewildered. Okay! So! Those vibes she was getting from Hal earlier weren't totally off the mark, then? Maybe? He's never tried to grab her, before, not like that.
Hal sneers. "I bet Metro Man isn't even gay," he says, "I bet he just said he was to get away from you. It's no wonder you can't get a boyfriend. I'm being nice, Roxie, okay? Just help me carry this stuff down to my car, okay?"
"No, Hal," Roxanne says sharply, shrugging her purse higher on her shoulder and slipping her hand into the outside pocket where she keeps her pepper spray. "Back off."
"I am about done backing off, Roxie," Hal snaps, stepping forward. "You have no idea how much goddamned trouble this—just take. the fucking. ride."
"I said no, Hal."
Nearby, a car door slams. Her heart thundering in her ears,Roxanne looks past Hal and down the steps, squeezing her little cylinder of pepper spray against her palm.
Megamind is leaning casually against the invisible car, cupping his hand around a cigarette as he lights it.
"Fuck you, Hal," Roxanne says, heart pounding, and she shoves past him and stalks down the steps and does not run to the invisible car and safety and Megamind.
"Good evening," she says, coming up to her serial kidnapper with her pulse in her ears and her teeth gritted.
"—Evening," he returns, looking at her.
"That offer of a ride still on the table?"
"It certainly is." He blows a plume of smoke out of his nose and blinks at her, the sharp orange glow of the cigarette reflecting softly in his eyes. "Shall we?"
Roxanne swallows, then lifts the cigarette out of his fingers and drags on it, glances over her shoulder and makes eye contact with Hal, who's still standing up by the office door, seething. Megamind cocks an eyebrow at her. "Yeah," she says, already regretting the taste of smoke in her mouth but hoping the move was as much of a middle finger to Hal as she intended. "Yeah, let's go."
Megamind takes the cigarette back, glances at it, lifts it to his mouth for a second and glances up at Hal. "All right," he says, eyes on Hal as Roxanne pulls her door open. "Let's go."
She climbs in and drops her purse on the floor. Folds her arms over her chest. Megamind stands for a moment outside her door, looking up the steps, but he doesn't say anything and he doesn't draw his gun, and after a moment, he comes around the car and climbs in, locks the doors, and pulls away.
"Miss Ritchi," he says, after a minute or so of silence, during which Roxanne tries to get her breathing back under control and stop her thoughts from spiraling. "Roxanne. Are you okay?"
"Peachy," she snaps. Then she takes a long, slow breath. "—Sorry. Sorry, I just…" She exhales. "What even was all that."
Silence. Eventually, Megamind speaks again. "Earlier, you said both your phone and his were dead."
"Yeah," she mutters. "Fantastic timing." She has a charging cable in her purse, but it's designed for a wall outlet. Then again, if any car has unusual outlets, it's going to be this one. "Do you have anywhere I can plug this in?"
"There's an outlet set into the door just under the speaker. Did you give that man your phone at any point today?"
She blinks. "Yeah, this morning," she says, as she plugs her phone in. "Why?"
"When you turn on your phone, check it for anything that might drain your battery quickly."
Roxanne's stomach twists all over again. Hal is on a different carrier and sometimes his service goes wonky. It's not unusual for him to ask if he can check his email, but—Hal killed her phone? Is that what Megamind is saying? She was right about the weird vibe and he stranded them out there intentionally? She checks her settings first, since that's the first thing she can think of.
And. Her screen brightness is on maximum, and the display is set to 'always on.'
Megamind is not wrong.
"Fuck," she whispers.
Her phone, the van. That shady warehouse. The phone call? She heard someone talking on the other end, though; Hal wasn't faking that. The keycard? Did he sabotage his own card somehow, did he—how much of this was—
"What were you out there to do, tonight?" Megamind asks.
"Um," Roxanne says, trying to think past her heartbeat and think back, trying to figure out the point at which this all went wrong. Trying to get her head around this or find some way to make it make sense—this can't be happening; it can't be; Hal is sort of a creep, yeah, but he's always seemed more or less harmless. "Um. We had. We had an interview scheduled at Damascus Brewing."
Megamind frowns. "I've never heard of any Damascus Brewing."
"They're a microbrewery out by the industrial waterfront," she says, staring out the windshield at the rain, at nothing, biting her lip. "It was, um. A last-minute thing. Hal got the call right before his phone died. We were filling in for a team that couldn't make it. And then the oil cap fell off the bottom of the van, and…" She falls silent.
"There are no microbreweries on the waterfront."
Roxanne blinks over at him. "You—you don't know that—"
"I own several of the buildings in that area," Megamind says. His voice is very flat, but he can't help it. He probably shouldn't be telling her this, but he can't help that, either, not after reading the chat logs from Hal Stewart's computer. "There is no Damascus Brewing. And your usual news van is not new, but it is new enough that simply losing an oil cap shouldn't be enough to disable it.
"I don't know why he brought you out there," he finishes, "or where he was taking you. But it wasn't for an interview."
"—I have to call my boss," Roxanne whispers. Megamind glances over at her, worried and kicking himself. Minion was right: he should have emailed to warn her. Putting an alert out for the brainbots to keep an eye on her wasn't enough. Roxanne is a smart cookie and she can handle herself, Megamind knows, but things can go wrong at any time. Being smart and capable is no guarantee. He should have warned her.
He hears the faint tones as she dials. It doesn't matter; Megamind already knows what she's going to hear.
"Hey, Carl," she says, after a moment. "I'm sorry to be calling so late, did I wake you up…? Oh, good. Listen, I—um, I would have called sooner but my phone died; I just wanted to call and let you know that Hal and I weren't able to make it to Damascus before they closed. The news van—what?" She pauses. "Damascus Brewing, down by the waterfront? In the, um, the industrial park south of Lemon? Hal said we needed to fill in for Marcellus and his crew." Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is quiet and shaky, sort of thready. "—Okay," she says. "Um. I. Need to talk to you about Hal, tomorrow. Morning. Please." She draws a very shivery breath. "No, I'm, I'm okay, nothing actually—I'm okay. I just. Today was a lot. And. I need to talk to you about Hal.
"Okay. Yes. Thanks. Yeah, you too, tell Walter I said hello."
She hangs up. Lowers her phone to her lap.
"…He didn't call Hal today, did he," Megamind says, after a moment.
Roxanne shakes her head.
"You okay?"
She shakes her head again and bites her lips together. "Um," she whispers, blinking hard, "do you mind, um. Just, just driving? Around? For a while? Take the long way home."
"Of course." Megamind turns left instead of right. An idea occurs. "Miss Ritchi, when was the last time you ate?"
"Around ten or so," she says faintly. "We didn't have time for lunch."
"That's more than twelve hours ago." He glances over at her in time to see her look at him. He raises his eyebrows. "Waffle House?"
This seems to startle her out of her funk somewhat. "Oh," she says. "I…sure? Yeah, I…I guess I could go for some hash browns. Will they let you in?"
"Please." Megamind rolls his eyes. "It's Waffle House."
She takes a deep breath, releases it. "Okay," she says. "Yes. That sounds good. You drive; I'm buying."
"Deal," he replies.
There's a pause, and then Roxanne sighs and presses both hands to her face. "God," she mumbles into her palms. "Fuck. I'm so stupid."
"That is manifestly untrue."
"All the signs were there," she says, dropping her hands to her lap. "Not all at once, maybe, but—I should have known. I should have known."
"How long have you worked with him?" Megamind asks.
Roxanne frowns. "Going on…six years? Seven? Why?"
Megamind shrugs. "You've known him a long time. And you called him all bark and no bite, before. It sounded like he never actually gave any indication he would try to attack you."
She's quiet for a while, thinking. Finally she sighs. "No. Not really. I mean…yeah, he's weird, but…it never felt like an unsafe weird? I always felt okay getting into the news van with him." She swallows hard. "He was…he just seemed persistent, you know? It was annoying, but he kept saying he was just being nice, and…I guess I got used to it." She frowns. It's amazing how much can become business as usual. "And he was nice enough, I guess, until recently," she adds. "And I was thinking, the other night—I never did tell him 'no' in a way he couldn't work his way around. Again, until recently.
"And I guess that was it, huh?" She shakes her head. "He couldn't tell himself he would win if he just kept at it, anymore. So he stopped being nice and he got dangerous."
"Something like that," Megamind says. "He got angry, first. He seems to have fallen into some questionable communities online—I think the term is 'incel?'—oh, I have his web history," he says, in response to Roxanne's questioning stare. "After we spoke last time, I got curious. Started digging. Had the bots formulate an algorithm to pull anything of interest relating to you, and then women in general. I won't regale you with the details; you can look up some of his public posts on Reddit later if you want. His handle is Hal0ver9000."
Roxanne snorts. "Of course it is," she murmurs.
"One of his friends on XBox Live recommended the particular subreddit, some other forum spaces, introduced him to some other users. New friends. If he wasn't radicalized before, he is now." He glances over at her as he pulls into the Waffle House parking lot. "I'm sorry. I was planning to give you a heads-up on Tues—um. The next time Minion and I kidnap you."
"Thanks." She sighs. "It's not your fault. I should have listened to my gut ages ago when I wondered if what he was doing was creepy."
Megamind shrugs gently. "You tend to focus on the best in people," he says. He puts the car in park. "Something I've noticed over the years."
He isn't entirely mistaken. Roxanne prefers to focus on the good, overall. Acknowledge the bad when it arises, but assume the best. People try to be good, generally, according to what they think is right.
It's just that sometimes, what they think is "right" is that they're entitled to another person's time and attention and sexual favors.
God.
But. It's okay. It's okay, now; she's okay. She had her pepper spray with her the whole time and she was not about to go with Hal to his apartment. She's a fast runner. Even if Megamind hadn't shown up, she would have been okay. Probably. Maybe.
"I am," she says, holding the door of the restaurant open so Megamind can go inside, "so glad you turned up when you did. I'm glad you stopped." Then she cocks her head at him and says, before he can respond, "I didn't know you smoke."
Megamind sends her a little grin over his shoulder as he heads for one of the booths. The restaurant isn't deserted, but it's fairly empty, and only a couple of the patrons look surprised to see him. "I don't, anymore," he says. "But it's a useful excuse to conspicuously hang around outside the invisible car."
Roxanne blinks, then slides into the booth across from him. "I see," she says, sending him a smile and just barely managing to stop herself from thanking him. "Well. I appreciate it."
Their server swings by the table and Megamind orders his "usual," which pretty much tells Roxanne why none of the staff even blinked when he walked in.
"You gonna be okay, baby?" Their server grins at him. Her name tag says Grace. "You're in your gear. Is Big-and-Tall gonna show up with a chip on his shoulder?"
Megamind chuckles. "It's Monday," he says. "He's pretty quiet on Mondays. I'll be okay. Besides, I've got a chaperone," nodding at Roxanne, who flushes.
"Well, just take it outside if you have to," Grace says, still grinning, and turns to Roxanne as Megamind rolls his eyes. "And what'll you have, gorgeous?"
"Oh—um, two eggs over easy with bacon and a double hashbrowns, smothered, covered, and peppered. And water."
"You got it," says Grace, and clicks her pen and heads for the counter.
Roxanne heaves a sigh and leans her cheek against her palm, her elbow braced on the table. She is suddenly ravenous, and somehow also suddenly exhausted.
"Why do I want to sleep," she mumbles.
"Post-adrenaline crash," Megamind replies. "Also it is past your bedtime, Miss Ritchi."
Roxanne glares up at him without actually moving her head. "I don't have a bedtime."
"Well, no wonder you're so cranky all the time," Megamind says, cocking an eyebrow at her, lips twitching. "That explains it."
"I'm cranky because I keep getting kidnapped," Roxanne says, but she's too tired to put much acid into it. She sighs again and sits up, stretches until her back pops. "Ahh. So, you said Tuesday? Kidnapping tomorrow?"
Megamind suddenly looks shifty. "Maybe."
"Just don't nab me before I have a chance to talk to Carl, okay? I don't think it'll take too long, but…" She trails off. Requesting that Megamind not kidnap her at certain times does not typically end well; he usually gets stiff and upset and whines about evil not bowing to other people's convenience.
But he nods. "Sounds…good. That sounds good. Um. Elevenish? Yes?"
Wow. She wasn't expecting him to agree at all, let alone give her an ETK. "Yeah, elevenish is perfect."
Megamind nods again.
Roxanne looks out the window. "I don't even know what I'm expecting Carl to do," she admits. "I haven't exactly gone to HR before about this. I thought about it, a couple times, but nothing ever seemed…worth it."
Megamind frowns at her. "Your discomfort is worth it," he says. Roxanne glances at him. "Your discomfort is always worth it."
She sighs. "Thanks. I just…"
"Don't talk yourself out of this," Megamind warns, and Roxanne blinks over at him, startled. "When did you think of it, before? What happened? Come on," Megamind says, sitting up a little and tapping himself on the chest with his fingertips. "Talk to me. Vent. Who am I going to tell?" He spreads his hands.
Roxanne smiles a little. "I guess I do kind of talk myself out of things, huh?"
"Goes along with seeing the best in people, I think," Megamind says. "I hope—oh." He blinks once, then leans back in his seat, his expression flattening. "I hope this isn't—with me, um—you aren't—talking yourself out of, of seeking a restraining order, or something."
She stares at him. "What? No! No, you're fine, I'm not…I don't have to do that, with you. Rationalize you to myself? I guess?" She wrinkles her nose. "I guess that's what I've been doing with Hal, all these years. But you're fine. I would say something, if you weren't."
"You complain," Megamind says, still with that flat expression. "When I kidnap you. You complain. You do say something."
Roxanne shakes her head. "Not like that. Megamind, Hal always gets pissy and annoying when I get sharp. But you don't—" She cuts herself off, realization dawning. "Oh. Huh. You don't…punish me for yelling at you. For asserting myself." She frowns. "I…huh. Hal never really was all that nice, was he?" He just wanted her to think he was. And she fell for it.
Slowly, Megamind's face relaxes. He breathes. "I imagine 'nice' is his word, not yours," he says.
Roxanne frowns. Yeah. Yeah, actually—she would get annoyed, he would insist he was just being nice, and she would back off. Or he would say something strange, and Roxanne would look at him, and he would get upset and self-deprecating, and she would shake her head and brush it off or reassure him.
Megamind must have been watching her expression change, because he offers, "If you say something enough times, people start to think it's true." And, yeah. Yeah, that about covers it. Roxanne chuckles in spite of herself.
"You sound like my sister."
"So," he says, after a few seconds. "Talk to me. Get it all out there. What will you say to Carl?"
Roxanne bites her lip. "Yeah," she murmurs. "Yeah, okay. So—"
She doesn't mean to go on for as long as she thinks she does, but it's hard to stop talking once she's started. She tells Megamind about the patterns of behavior, as well as his constantly trying to pay for her lunch and his insisting on being allowed to hold the door for her every single time, even if she got there ahead of him. His asking her out at least once a month even when she was 'dating' Wayne and literally every Friday since they 'broke up.' She explains about all the 'soft no's she gave him—everything under the sun, everything she could think of to say without flat-out lying to him.
"Why not lie?" Megamind asks, when she says this. Roxanne shakes her head. She probably should have; there really was a lot, looking back on everything at once like this.
"I think…I think because if I needed to lie…then it was a real problem. And." She pauses. "Like you said, I've worked with him for ages. He was always just…weird. Awkward. Weird and awkward isn't a crime."
"Repeatedly coming onto you despite constant deflections sounds a little more than just awkward, to me." Megamind grimaces. "Granted, I am not exactly Mister Social Guru, so, grain of sand and all that, but it does seem to point to a deeper problem than just 'weird and awkward.'"
Roxanne smiles a little. "You keep saying you don't understand social stuff," she says. "You've been pretty solid, so far."
He looks down at his plate, scooching the remains of his waffle and scrambled eggs around with his fork. "I used to spend a lot of time," he finally says, "thinking about…good and bad. In general, and as it applies to villainy. There are a lot of ways to do this job; I needed to know what kind of evil I wanted to be. If I was going to be bad, then I was going to be the best at bad." He sighs. "But I needed to have standards. All the best villains have standards. A moral code. Rules. Some of which require me to keep abreast of various social mores and norms and…well. Suffeece to say, I have done a lot of research."
Roxanne studies him for a moment. She's known Megamind longer than she's known Hal; she realized years ago that he has standards and rules. He goes out of his way to limit his destruction to buildings that are mostly derelict, and on the rare occasion that they're occupied, they usually have some kind of fire alarm go off a few minutes before Megamind shows up. And even the tenants who didn't think they had insurance find out they were insured.
But this is the first time he's mentioned ethics aloud. This is the first indication she's had that they were calculated, in the beginning.
Megamind presses his lips together. "I have problems with authority," he says, unbidden. "I have problems with, with broken systems that would be easy to fix if the people in charge of fixing them would stop sitting on their laurels and work together and do something." His lip curls. "So I make their lives difficult. Maybe it's petty, but I am," he lets out a short, oddly bitter laugh, "very good at being difficult.
"Still," he says, before Roxanne can respond to that, "I do try not to…do things to people that I wouldn't be okay with or haven't personally experienced. Usually. So." He shrugs sharply, then looks up and aims a long finger at her, his sharp face set in a glare. "And if any of that winds up on the news," he says, "we are going to have a major problem."
Roxanne scowls. "Put that away or I'll make you eat it," she snaps, swatting his hand to the side and glaring right back at him. "We're off the record. I thought that went without saying. Don't threaten me; I don't need that from you. And you don't need to pull that with me."
He blinks, nods, drops his hand. He has the grace to look somewhat shamefaced.
"Can I ask, though," Roxanne says, because she can't let that thing about difficult go even if she is annoyed with him, "you said, you were going to be the best at bad? You used to spend a lot of time on this? Past tense?"
Megamind's green eyes flick to her. For a moment, he hesitates, but then he wipes his expression smooth and carefree again. "Well, I am the best at bad," he says, arching an eyebrow at her and smiling as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I made it. Obviously."
She bites her lip, remembering how he winced when he stretched, how he pressed a hand to his hip. Remembering a few conversations she's had with Wayne, over the years, when he had bad days and came in complaining he was getting sick of the whole thing, complaining that Megamind wouldn't just stay down. "Have you ever thought about retirement? At all?" Megamind blinks at her, his smile sort of freezing, and she shrugs. "You made it," she tells him. "Like you said. You walk into a bank and everybody just lies down on the floor. You could do anything you wanted, now; no one would stop you."
"Can't destroy Metro Man," he says breezily. "Still working on that one."
Roxanne hesitates, then sends him a slow smile. "Okay…but we both know that's not quite true, though."
Megamind frowns at her, then scowls. "What else is there, for me?" he says, and oh, she struck a nerve with that one; his voice is edged with warning. "Miss Ritchi, I'm a supervillain. I'm not even human. This—this, whatever this is—" He gestures at her, waves around at the restaurant— "this is not real, do you understand that? It's a one-off. It doesn't last. Nice things never do. Retirement is not in the cards, for me."
Roxanne recoils, genuinely thrown. "It…what? Megamind, wait. Hold on." She slides her hand across the table towards him without thinking. "Just because nice things don't last, just because they don't stay the same—that doesn't mean they were never real."
"It might as well," he says flatly, glowering down at her hand as he crosses his arms again. "They fade, become inaccessible. They might as well have never happened. Better, even, if they never did—it wouldn't hurt so badly."
"Well, that's an incredibly bleak outlook on life," Roxanne says, taken aback and not bothering to hide it. "Good lord, Megamind."
He shrugs sharply. "Am I wrong?"
She's frowning, trying to get her head around this. "So, wait. Are you saying…okay. We're having a nice time right now, right? Are you having a nice time?"
He nods.
"And you're saying that when this is over—you're saying that tomorrow, when you look back on tonight, you're going to feel sad about it?"
Megamind hesitates, appears to wilt somewhat. "Not sad," he finally says. "Not…not sad. But…something like that, yes."
Roxanne studies him for a moment, stunned. "But you're still here," she says slowly. "You're still…you still offered to do this, for me. Knowing it would make you sad tomorrow."
Megamind shrugs again. "What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment. And I—" He cuts himself off, flushing.
"What?" Roxanne asks. He's quiet. "Megamind, what?"
He presses his lips together, rounds his shoulders, looks away. "And I like seeing you," he says, flatly, and very quickly. "It is. Nice. To see you. Talk to you, without being yelled at for kidnapping you. I, I thought—talking like we did in your apartment—with Derya—on Friday—I thought this would be like that. Maybe."
She blinks at him, startled, and then she sends him a smile. "Oh," she says, touched. "Well. I like talking to you, too. This is nice, I agree. I just wish it wouldn't make you sad."
Megamind relaxes slightly, appears to make some kind of effort to lower his guard a little. "I'm not sad. I'm…it is…hard. For me. To remember good things, and not feel…melohncholy, I suppose."
"Huh." Roxanne frowns down at her plate for a moment and doesn't say anything about his botched pronunciation. "That's a shame."
"Can this happen again?" he asks suddenly, and Roxanne looks up. "Not—not Waffle House, specifically. Just. Talking? With you, outside of a kidnapping plot. Can there be a third time?"
"Sure," she says, surprised, and he perks up, blinking. "Yeah, of course. We could text; do you have a phone?"
He wilts a little. "I do not."
"Oh. Well…" Roxanne bites her lip, then makes a decision and fishes in her purse for a second until she finds a pen. She pulls a fresh napkin out of the holder by the window and writes her name and cell phone number, and TEXT ME! :) underneath, and then she slides it over to Megamind. "You should get one! And then you should text me. Or call me."
He blinks down at the fragile paper. Slowly unfolds his arms. "I already know your phone number," he says, confusion obvious in his voice.
Roxanne winks at him. "Yes, but now you know it because I want you to know it," she tells him, and Megamind's face goes startled and then very pink.
"Ah," he says, "I see," and he folds the napkin in quarters and tucks it carefully into the top of his glove, near his shoulder. Roxanne is pretty sure he's hiding a smile—his eyes are soft again—but she doesn't call him on it.
It's almost one in the morning by the time the invisible car rumbles into the alley behind Roxanne's apartment building. Roxanne sighs and unbuckles her belt. "I appreciate your help tonight," she tells Megamind again. "And this was fun. Waffle House was a good plan. And see?" she adds, grinning at him in the glow of the car's dashboard. "It didn't end in failure! Chalk this one up as a win, huh?"
Megamind's lips twitch. "Good night, Miss Ritchi," he says. "And—um."
"What's up?"
He hesitates, brows netting together as he considers something. "I…would not ask. Ordinarily. But—when it comes to, ah, to putting the fear of death into your cameraman—"
Roxanne shakes her head. "Just leave it," she says, and Megamind scowls. "You've helped more than enough. I want to try and put this through the proper channels first; I'll let you know if I need anything else. He's not worth your time."
"No, he isn't," Megamind agrees, "but you are. So."
Roxanne smiles at him. Reaches over and squeezes his shoulder. "You're sweet." She turns and starts to push her door open—and then she pauses and turns back. "I don't suppose you can walk me to my door," she says. Megamind shakes his head.
"I'm working on something that might allow me to do that," he says, "but it isn't finished. I'm still figuring out how to get it to work with my—ah, other thing. A, a different thing. That I wear."
She cocks her head. "Take off the different thing?" she suggests, but Megamind huffs a laugh and shakes his head, looks away.
"That isn't a good idea," he says quietly. "It's fine. I'll figure it out eventually. Will you be okay on your own?"
Roxanne hesitates. Hal knows where she lives and he was pissed, tonight, and apparently he went to pretty extreme lengths to set up several ways to get her alone. And her doorman is good, but—but Hal is an expert at seeming bumbling and unassuming; he likely wouldn't register as a threat—and Roxanne isn't the only one who know how to find her way into restricted areas in unexpected ways, it's part of the job—
—is she being paranoid? She's probably just being paranoid. She's…it's fine. She'll be fine.
"Yeah," she says, despite the anxiety clawing at her. "I'll be okay."
Megamind frowns at her. "You're doing it again," he accuses. "Talking yourself out of something."
"I'll probably be okay," she amends. "I'm just…nervous."
Megamind pauses for a moment, then turns and gets out of the car without saying anything. Mystified, Roxanne follows.
He opens the trunk, pulls out some kind of massive metal contraption with what look like funnels coming off of the sides and bottom, and something like shoulder straps in front. He shrugs this onto his back, clenching his teeth and leaning on the bumper of the invisible car while he fastens it in front of him. "Jet pack," he says, in response to Roxanne's questioning glance. "I'll take you in through the balcony."
You're a good man, Roxanne wants to say, but she's pretty sure Megamind won't react well to that. So she just walks to him, instead, and wraps her arms around his shoulders as he picks her up. He sort of twitches, but he doesn't actually say anything.
This is not the first time Megamind has held her like this while she's conscious—one arm under her legs, the other around her back—but it is rare for him to do so, and this is the first time Roxanne has been able to hold on. His shoulders are as cold through his spandex and leather as his hands are. Is he just naturally cooler, she wonders, and has to resist the urge to lean her head against his shoulder.
"I can't believe you're holding both me and this massive thing," she says as he steps away from the car to take the pack out of idling and fire up the thrusters.
"Yes, my back won't be happy with me, tomorrow," Megamind says tightly, and they lift off. "But oh, well."
"You didn't have to," Roxanne tries, but Megamind just shoots her a Look.
"I told you," he says, zipping up the side of her building and around to the front. "Your discomfort is worth it. Worth at least asking for accommodation."
"Still," Roxanne says, as they clear her balcony railing and Megamind lowers her carefully to her feet on the tile, "you shouldn't hurt yourself on my account."
Megamind snorts. "I have hurt myself for far sillier things than this," he says. "Don't worry about it."
As if she isn't supposed to feel some kind of worry about that. But it's not the time, Roxanne knows. She reaches out and grips his gloved hand, squeezes it. His hand feels…different from what she was expecting, but she squeezes anyway, and smiles up at him.
"See you tomorrow," she says. He blinks.
"Yes," Megamind agrees. "Yes, I…I suppose you will."
Roxanne squeezes again, then drops his hand and lets herself into her apartment as the roar of the jet pack fades away in the direction of the invisible car.
