"Would you like another omelet, Miss Ritchi?" Minion asked the next morning at breakfast.
"I was delicious, but I couldn't possibly eat that much more. Just another piece of toast would be great," she answered. "And are there any more strawberries?"
"Coming right up!" Minion smiled.
Roxanne's body had grown accustomed to their rigorous training—so much so that she actually missed it this morning— and while she was fitter than ever, she noticed her appetite had increased. She'd worried, upon first moving in, that her voluntary house arrest would result in an expanding waistline. Between three-hour fighting practices and their equally energetic (if far more enjoyable) nocturnal activities, however, those fears were proving to be unfounded. The fact that she climbed three flights of stairs several times a day and had started walking laps around the upper level of the massive workroom helped as well. In fact, although she was eating more than she could recall ever doing before, she had actually lost almost an inch from her girth—impressive for just under two months. Her weight had increased a little, but Megamind had assured her that was normal.
"Muscle is higher density than fat," he'd explained. Then he had run a teasing hand down her side. "Just promise me you won't lose these beautiful curves." The next hour had been spent in his showing her, in no uncertain terms, just how beautiful he found them.
The memory made her blush when the blue hero in question bounded into the dining room. "Good morning, Sweetheart," he said cheerily. "Good morning," he added to Minion. "What's for breakfast, Master Chef?"
"Bacon, spinach, red onion, and Gouda omelet with toast and strawberries. Oh, and I've got a batch of your favorite cookies coming out of the oven!"
"Excellent! I'm famished, and we've got a full day ahead!" He poured himself a cup of coffee and began adding liberal spoonfuls of sugar. "I've been up since before sunrise."
"I noticed," Roxanne teasingly pouted. "I woke up all cold and alone."
"Oh, Sweetheart, I'm sorry. Make it up to you tonight?" he added with a grin.
She chuckled. "You'd better. Seriously, though, I know you have important things to do. So, what's up?"
"Reports about the remaining devices came in. As I suspected, only the seven I disarmed yesterday were real, which has given me new insight into what Ares's intentions were. You were right; it was definitely about Olivia. But that's not all. I just got off the phone with Simmons. He's pulled some information from the database I requested, so a visit to Central Precinct is the first item on our agenda." He mixed milk and caramel syrup into his cup, and topped it with whipped cream. Roxanne didn't bat an eye. She'd grown used to his incredible sweet tooth. At least he hadn't added vanilla ice cream this time.
Minion brought out a plate of fruit, half a dozen cookies, and toast smothered in jam. "Your omelet will be ready in just a moment more, Sir!"
Megamind nodded at him, his mouth already full of cookie. They were an invention of Minion's own: a confection made largely from butter, oatmeal, both regular and brown sugar, cinnamon, white chocolate, and dried blueberries. Roxanne had learned from experience what they were sweet enough to set her teeth on edge, but Megamind ate them by the dozen.
"So Simmons has some information about Ares," Roxanne asked, sipping her own coffee. Today her mug read: "Instant Human: Just Add Caffeine." The tired joke was given new humor by the fact that the cup belonged to Megamind.
Her lover was grimacing. "I wish it was that simple. We're going have to try to get information out of our favorite Fed, and Agent Dickhard is still being a problem."
"Agent Dickhard!" She laughed aloud. "Oh, you are terrible! The worst! I love you so much!"
"Evil," he reminded her, gesturing to himself.
"Hero," she argued playfully
He grinned. "It's only the good kind of evil."
"Mmm-hmm. Right." She started to rise.
"Not yet," he stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is really important. I've added a new disguise to your holowatch. You'll need to keep it on when we arrive. Your name is Dawn Moneta, and mine is Malachi Magus," he dug in a pocket and handed her a very realistic looking ID. "Don't answer to any other name."
Roxanne studied the card. "Megamind, this is a private investigator's license. That's…"
"Highly illegal. I know. But it's necessary."
"And your name is Malachi Magus? A little obvious, isn't it?"
"Actually, people generally find very bland names, like John Smith, more suspicious. They think more intricate names sound like something someone would invent, and therefore if someone were inventing a name they would obviously avoid the ones that sounded invented. They reason themselves out of looking too closely at unusual names. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah, but Magus? For a PI? And why do you get to have a cool sounding name?"
"Excuse me, but Dawn is the translation of your name, Roxanne, and Moneta is the Roman Goddess of wealth."
She groaned a good-natured protest and made a show of rolling her eyes. "Wealth. Ritchi. You and your puns."
He gave her a sideways smirk. "Well, that, and of course I like the irony of using Ares' penchant for Classical names against him. But mostly I was thinking that you are my daylight, my treasure, and my goddess. I thought it was a fitting and beautiful name."
Roxanne felt her expression soften. "Of course it is. Count on you to put so much care and thought into a one-use alias. I love you." She stood and came around the table to kiss him lightly. "What's the plan?"
"Mm." He gently tugged her arm with one hand and pointed to his mouth with the other. "One more."
She was only too happy to comply.
"Alright," Megamind pulled himself back into business mode. "Here's our story: I own a private detective firm and you're my assistant. I've had to tell Simmons that I have ways of disguising myself, and he's expecting out visit, but I don't want it to go any further if possible— especially if that means letting Rickard know. I can only imagine the demands the Federal Government might start making if they were aware of some of my inventions. I already traded a few designs and patents for clemency, but if Uncle Sam ever found out I was holding things like this back… Well, you get the idea. Anyway, we have a letter from the Defender of Metrocity stating that we're working with him and asking that any useful information be shared with us. Simmons is ready to order cooperation.."
"You really think Dickhard," she couldn't help but grin again, "is going to like working with a PI any better than working with our friendly neighborhood alien genius?"
"You heard him when we first met. I doubt he gets along well with anyone, but it was the alien part that he had the biggest problem with." He sighed. "But, no. In fact, I'm sure he is going to try and block us."
"Well, he's an idiot," she assured him. "At first glance, he seems like such a smart, serious guy, too!"
"My Dear, light travels faster than sound. That's why some people look intelligent until they opened their mouths." He gave her a wicked smirk. "I've called in another favor with the mayor's office. Hopefully, Pollock can help us out."
Roxanne laughed again and kissed his cheek. "Literally the worst," she repeated as she headed into the kitchen with her plate.
"Oh, come on, you know you love it!" he called after her, earning him another chortle.
When they reached the invisible car, Roxanne let her curiosity take hold.
"I don't think I've seen you fuel this thing up, and we've been driving a lot. Do we need to stop for gas?" She wondered aloud, casting a sly look sideways.
"Nosy reporter. As you've guessed, it doesn't use gas. I developed an electromagnetic device and photocatalytic converter that work together to turn Carbon-Dioxide, water, and solar radiation into a fuel source."
She stumbled, nearly missing the passengers' seat, and only Megamind's hand on her elbow saved her from a fall. "Are you telling me this thing runs on air?" The woman stared wide-eyed.
"Not exactly," he explained, opening his own car door. One thing had never changed: Megamind was always glad to expound upon his work. "You need CO2, H2O, and sunlight for the process. It's basically artificial photosynthesis. Then the compound has to be refined into a solid before it can be used to run the vehicle. That way it's concentrated and easier to store… Not to mention it's easier to safely separate out the byproducts that way. Anyway, after some tweaking, I managed to make it very energy-efficient, so the vehicle can run for multiple weeks before it needs the fuel cell replaced."
"Oh, my God, Megamind!" Roxanne enthused after her lover had taken his place behind the wheel. "That is amazing! Why haven't you marketed it yet?!"
"I've been trying." He grimaced with distaste as he put the car into gear. "Big oil companies have a lot of political influence, and they're good at blocking certain patents when they want to. Before I became a hero, I'd had some villainous plans to do something about that, but…" he trailed off with an expressive wave of his hand.
"Maybe you still could."
"Oh, no. Eco-terrorism is still terrorism. Either I'm the good guy or I'm not. I can't straddle the fence that much."
She reached out to touch his knee. "Then I guess we'll just have to find a way to do it through legal channels together."
They arrived at police headquarters shortly before ten a.m. wearing the appearances of a dapper dark-skinned man and a thin woman in a no-nonsense pantsuit. Inside, they endured the time-consuming ruse of showing their credentials, waiting for Simmons, and finally receiving a promise of assistance.
The police were quick to assist them. Agent Rickard, however, was predictably unhappy. They found him in a private cubicle he had commandeered, and his greeting was hardly less surly than when they had met him as themselves.
"At least this hero," he sneered the word, "admits that he's not up to the challenge of actual detective work, but he should still leave the real investigators to do their jobs."
"Oh, I don't know," Megamind was quick to say. "He's so brilliant. And charismatic. But his important schedule doesn't leave time for everything."
Roxanne wished there was a way to kick his leg without being obvious.
"Is he?" Rickard's look was suspicious.
"Malachi," said Roxanne sweetly, "do you have a little man crush?"
"What? No!"
"Because you sound like you have a man-crush."
"I do not!"
"Oh, wait, it's all the technology, right? Didn't you say you used to read Dick Tracy comics when you were a kid?"
Megamind finally seemed to have caught on. "You are the most mouthy assistant I've ever had."
"But I'm also the best." She turned back to Rickard. "We're here about the Nelson case. We have some information that may tie into who his clients are, and we'd like to see if it matches what you've got."
"And what have you got?"
"Covert meeting with an unknown person in a luxury sedan. Plates are registered to an anonymous trust. Do you think there may be some connection with the local government?" Megamind answered.
Rickard actually looked interested, which surprised Roxanne. They had discovered that information so long ago that she expected Rickard to have found it too. "Well, that is something. Thanks for the help." He started to walk away.
"My question, Agent?" Megamind asked. Rickard ignored him.
"I don't think you heard my boss," Roxanne spoke politely, but she moved to block Rickard's path. "What have you got on the client or the target? Come on, now, Agent, we've shared with you. Fair is fair."
"I'm FBI. You have to share with me, or you're standing in the way of an open investigation. I don't have to give you anything."
"And you don't think working together might solve this faster?"
"If the… private investigators in this town," Rickard scoffed, "are anything like the so-called heroes and the law enforcement, I'd say I'm better off alone."
"Oh, come on," Megamind offered cordially. "I get that you don't like the Defender, but what have you got against the MCPD? They're pretty good people, and if a PI saying that about cops, you know it means something!"
Rickard sneered. "Of course they like you. They like anyone who'll do their job for them. Fucking incompetent, every one of them."
"Now, Agent, you have the right to your opinion, but—"
"Opinion?! That's not an opinion, it's a fact! They won't catch Nelson this time just like they couldn't last time! Hell, last time he had to set a damned hotel on fire before they even noticed he was here!" Rickard stopped suddenly as if he realized he'd said too much.
Roxanne kept her face politely blank, carefully not looking at the blue hero as he spoke.
"Ah, yes, the hotel fire," he said as if he'd known it all along. "It was called the Fitzgerald, I believe. Turned out to house an illegal casino on the basement level. Fires were put out by some sort of… freak storm before they reached the upper floors."
A freak storm, Roxanne resisted the urge to grin. Yeah, right. But if the Cumulus Generator is new, how did he do it?
"You're not entirely stupid," Rickard grudgingly admitted. "What the hell is that?" He added as a detective brought over a thick manila envelope.
"Copy of the Nelson file," the detective answered.
"Don't give that to them!"
"Chief's orders."
"They are not—"
"Thank you, Detective," Roxanne said, accepting the file. "Is this all of it?"
"All of it that we have, Ma'am," the man answered. There was a slight emphasis on we, and Roxanne looked pointedly at Rickard.
"I see," she said.
"I can't just hand over information from a federal investigation to a couple of snoops!"
"Even snoops working with the recognized Defender of the City and with the full cooperation of local law enforcement?"
Mentioning Megamind was a mistake. "I am not," Rickard said pointedly, "giving you anything that might be shared with that—" he swallowed whatever he'd been about to say, and finished with: "non-human!"
"Just so that you know," the police detective stated hotly, "the Defender is a really good guy."
"Conflict of interests!" insisted Rickard, whirling on the man. "He's an alien! He was a supervillain for years! Who knows what ulterior motives he has?"
Roxanne could feel Megamind stiffen beside her, but he remained calm.
"I'll be sure to pass along your compliments," he said dryly.
"Be sure you do! And be sure he knows it's from me!"
Rickard's phone rang, and he glanced at the display. "If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting at the Mayor's Office."
"Good to know Pollock came through," Megamind said as Rickard started away in one direction, and the detective disappeared in another.
"A backup plan for the backup plan?"
"Exactly." Megamind darted into the cubical. "Keep a lookout for me, Dawn."
"Hey… Malachi? That storm at the Fitzgerald. That was you, right?" Roxanne queried, positioning her back near the opening of the cubical for a clear view in either direction.
"Indirectly. Lady Doppler of the Doom Syndicate acting under my orders."
"You controlled the Doom Syndicate?"
"No. At one time they wanted me to lead them, but I refused to entangle myself with those amateurs. Keeping them organized would have been far more work and stress than it was worth. And they certainly don't feel the same way about me anymore. But Doppler looks out for Number One… She's always known when it's in her best interest to play nice." He plugged a jump drive into the laptop dock, and a command window flashed briefly before black dots appeared in the Password blank. A standard desktop display opened.
"Why, look," Megamind said conversationally. "Rickard has left his computer unlocked. Very sloppy security for an agent. A nice person would lock it for him and save him a lot of trouble."
"And you're doing what?" Roxanne asked knowingly, glancing over her shoulder.
"Searching for information, of course! And hacking all of his accounts."