Megamind helped Roxanne into the invisible car, where she shivered violently with more than the cold. Before taking the drivers' seat, he pulled off his winter cloak— leather, lined in black fur— and wrapped it around her. She buried her face in the soft texture, inhaling his scent, as he started the car and turned up the heater. They'd made it past the roadblock, startling several people when the car suddenly appeared long enough to be waved through, and were driving through the city toward home when Roxanne's strained self-control finally collapsed.
The tears burning at the back of her eyes began spilling over, and a sob clawed its way out of her tight throat. It was like the first crack in a dam, and within moments she was crumbling to pieces.
Megamind pulled the invisible car over to the curb.
"Roxanne," he said as her tears came faster. "Sweetheart. I'm here. I'm here. It's okay."
"I know, I know," she sobbed. God, she hated herself for falling apart. "This is stupid."
"No," he said gently, turning in his seat to embrace her. "No, you're just overwhelmed. It's been a crazy day," he dropped a kiss on the top of her bowed head. "You were really brave out there."
She shook her head. "I was terrified."
"That makes two of us," he smiled softly. "But we all still went to battle and fought well. That's what matters."
"I could have lost you!"
"But you didn't, because you were too brave to let that happen. I wouldn't have survived a headshot, especially at that range, but you acted fast. You looked fate in the eye and said: 'not today.' It's our choices that create our destinies, remember?" Megamind continued, lifting her chin. "You made the choice to protect me, to change what might have been into what is. We make our own tomorrows, Roxanne, and that's what you did. You thought fast. You were heroic. I mean that. So, it's alright to cry right now because you were strong when you needed to be. I'm proud of you."
"But you're not coming to pieces," she protested.
"Why, I'm the courageous and incredibly handsome Defender of Metrocity," he grinned. "But believe me," he added soberly. "I have my moments."
"Really?"
"Complete panic-mode freak-outs," he assured her, putting the car back in gear.
"Megamind?" she asked after a moment.
"Yes?"
"Will you make sure I'm there for the next one?"
He glanced away from the road long enough to lift an inquiring eyebrow.
"I'm serious. You're always there for me, pulling me up, helping me put myself back together. I want to do the same for you. Please… Let me be the one to hold you next time your world falls apart."
She could see his smile in profile. "I will. But you can't tell anybody," he added quickly.
"Not a soul," she promised.
"Good," he nodded. "For now, let's just get you home and into a hot bath. Call Minion," he added to the car's AI system.
His aquatic sidekick picked up on the first ring. "Sir? Is everything alright?"
"Fine, Minion. Are you home yet?"
"Just got in, Sir."
"Excellent. Will you please draw Roxanne up a bath?" The tub he had installed in their shared bathroom was large— nearly twice the standard size— and took some time to fill up. "Make sure it's extra hot."
"Yes, Sir! Bubbles?"
Megamind glanced a question at Roxanne.
"Oh, why not?" she smiled weakly. "It's been years since I had a bubble bath."
"Bubbles, yes," Megamind answered Minion. "Oh, and make sure we have some Moscato chilled."
Roxanne had sunk into the steaming embrace of her bath when there was a knock at the door.
"Sweetheart?" Megamind called. "I'm coming in." He opened the door carrying a book under his arm and wine bottle in an ice bucket in one hand, still fully dressed except for his gloves. Brainbots followed in his wake carrying an industrial gray stool from the workroom and a dining room chair. Roxanne knew logically that the organic components of the little cyborgs were canine, hardly likely to care about her nudity, but she still sank a little lower beneath the concealing bubbles.
"Here we are," Megamind motioned for the drones to put down the furniture, and waved them away. He arranged the stool at the side of the tub to serve as a table, popped the bottle's cork, and filled one of the wine glasses a brainbot had left on the counter. He handed the drink to Roxanne and settled himself in the chair near the foot of the tub. "Now," he said. "I thought The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy would be appropriate. Douglas Adams is always good for a laugh."
Roxanne smiled. "You're going to read to me?"
"Well, you did say you found my Shakespeare performance," he lifted a cocky eyebrow, "inspiring."
"And Douglas Adams doesn't offend you?"
"It's comedic. It's not meant to be taken seriously. Besides," he added with a quirk of his lips, "if the ab-surdity of hearing an actual alien read Hitchhiker's Guide doesn't make you smile, nothing will." He started to take a seat, then paused to glance around. Opening the small cabinet beside the sink, he retrieved a black drying cloth and laid it across the counter. "Never forget your towel," he informed her with a smirk, green eyes dancing with humor.
She couldn't help but giggle. She didn't even care that she sounded silly. "Megamind, how did you get to be so wonderful?"
"Just one of my fantastic gifts. Now," he cleared his throat. "'Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun...'"
Megamind had an excellent voice for reading aloud, and by the time he was a few pages into the second chapter, his smooth tones, not to mention the wine and warm water, had lulled Roxanne into deep relaxation.
"You look very comfortable, Miss Ritchi," he commented with warm affection, pausing to take a sip from his own glass.
"Mmmm..." she sighed. "All I would need now to convince me I've died and gone to Heaven is a foot massage."
"I can certainly oblige," he unfastened his cloak and began removing his boots.
"Oh, no, Megamind, I didn't mean you had to—" she stammered as he quickly checked his pockets, unclasped his belt and holster, and stepped into the bath, clothes and all.
"You're crazy!" she half-laughed, half gasped. "You'll ruin your things!"
"Nonsense! Waterproof, remember?" he set one of her feet on his bent knees and began rubbing it. Roxanne practically melted.
"Right here?" he asked, rubbing a little harder.
"Mmmm-hmmmm."
He chuckled. "You're so cute when you're happy."
"Then I must be cute a lot these days."
"Positively adorable. Does that feel good?" he focused on the ball of her foot.
"Uh-huh."
"You have a lot of tension here. Maybe you shouldn't wear high heels so often."
"Maybe."
"You don't have to impress me, you know."
"I know. But I like looking good."
"You always look good."
"You're sweet. Oh, that feels nice!"
Megamind had begun gently tugging each of her pedicured toes. "This little piggy went to market, which was a remarkably poor decision for a pig, really," he said.
Roxanne nearly spat out her wine as she laughed.
"This little piggy stayed home like a sensible animal," Megamind continued with a grin. "This little piggy had roast beef— at least it wasn't pork. This little piggy had none. And this little piggy," he finished with her pinkie toe. "Apparently had bladder control issues." He gently released her and held out his hand. "Other foot, if you please, Madam," he said in his best impression of a Maître d'.
Roxanne laughed again as she complied.
"Alright, but then it's your turn."
"I would like that," he admitted. "But you're not stealing my Little Piggy rhyme!"