Disclaimer: "Megamind" is owned by Dreamworks. I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

Syphon

Part III

"Unbelievable!" Syphon cried, pacing through her lair. "A hero? He's a hero?" With a yell of fury, she grabbed the thing nearest her - an open radio she'd been tinkering with - and threw it across the room. It tumbled, dented, and eventually broke into several pieces, screws scattering.

"He became a hero and I missed it!" she screamed. "I can't believe this! Years he spent as a villain - a super villain -" she kicked a table, toppling it "- and now he's just turned around? That - that - blue-skinned freak!" She threw a baseball-sized hunk of tangled wires, watched as it rebounded down the hall and out of sight. Something shattered. My mirror, probably.

For a moment she stood there, still, seething hard. Her eyes darted around her lair for something else to destroy. Her anger wasn't relieved yet.

Paper pictures (mostly printed) lined the walls and a few hung from strings, all of Megamind. She had news articles of his last decade of battles taped or pinned over every spare inch. These papers covered most of the rusted metal that made up the walls of her lair - an abandoned sugar mill, which she'd adapted to be her dark, evil home. Cliché, of course, but she had to start somewhere.

And lord knows she was just starting out. She'd barely been outright evil for two months, stealing, terrorizing, harming, destroying. She'd been training herself to be bad, all so she could become a worthy partner for Megamind.

Not that he cared. That non-evil blasted. . .hero!

Her fists clenched. Fine. She wasn't changing for him again. He wants to be a good guy, then she'd just have to punish him as any bad guy would do. Maybe if she kept being bad, she might be able to convince him to come back. . ?

She pushed the thought away. No plans, she'd promised herself in the past. The future was too fluid to plan. She reminded herself of this now. No plans. Or at least, no big ones. She'd need some measure of a plan to lure Megamind out. He'd be expecting a trap, of course, so she'd plant two. Once he'd sprung one, his guard would go down.

She knew how he thought, knew his reactions. Knew he'd be planning his own traps, even the type that could spring on her turf.

And what was with that Roxanne? Roxanne Ritchi? The reporter? The two of them were a couple? Unbelievable!

Not that she couldn't believe Megamind liked her - no, the way he kept kidnapping her without ever putting her life in danger said enough. From the very first kidnapping on, he'd been impressed with her, which of course led to his eventual discovery of feelings.

Jealousy seared her. Lucky Roxanne, getting him all to herself. It was too bad for her that Syphon's reactions weren't nice anymore. Jealousy used to make her depressed, because anything she was jealous of was something she could never have.

Not anymore. Now the jealousy urged her to destroy what she wanted and its possessor. If she couldn't have it, no one would. And the 'owner' would possess nothing ever again.

Roxanne and Megamind were to die.

The thought caused a spear of pain to pierce her, but she shoved it away. Reason fled her mind. He'd rejected her, in turn rejecting every sacrifice she'd made for him. And so he would die.

She didn't take rejection nicely.

She meant it when she told him her claws would tear through his tendons. She'd done so before, on helpless citizens in a few different cities, gauging their reactions and modifying the claws accordingly. As they were now, people absolutely lost their minds when she bared her claws at them, and they sliced through clothes, skin and muscle with little drag.

With these bad boys, she could tear out a heart. In fact, the idea was pleasant to her. Maybe she'd do that to Roxanne - before Megamind's eyes. Damage the girl he loved irreparably, letting her bleed to death as he watched. Then he'd be next.

The violent, bloody thoughts calmed her rage, coaxing a smile. This just might work out yet. Just because she couldn't have Megamind didn't mean she couldn't still wreak havoc.

Decided, she set out to straightening up, taking off the claws and setting them aside. Next came her boots, slipping her feet into comfortable sneakers. The same pair she'd worn for the past four years, well broken-in.

But as she cleaned up, her ire grew again. She'd spent years saving up money for an undecided future, knowing only it'd be something big, and then she'd spent it all on this outfit and the building. She had nothing left now. Once again, she was a pauper.

Luckily, a portion of the memories she'd siphoned were still with her. And when a specific image came to mind, it had her scrambling for a piece of paper to write the information down on. For once the memories faded, she wouldn't remember anything she'd gotten from Megamind, so she had to take notes while she could. The face in her mind was familiar, both from her point of view and his. But the building she was looking at - some sort of dilapidated school building, it looked like - wasn't the least bit familiar.

That didn't stop her from discovering the address. After writing it down, she frowned at it, confused. But when she paired the face in her mind to the address, she drew the connection.

Metro Man? Alive?

She ran to her newspaper-clipping wall, scrolling through them. There - Metro Man's face, pictured alongside Megamind's. So that was him. The face in her mind was more scraggly, with a thick beard and unruly hair. But there was no mistaking the eyes she compared, or the half-winking grin.

Yet why was her mind telling her he'd. . .died? Thumbing through the recent memories was getting harder with each moment, but she kept trying, while skimming over the paper clippings. Somewhere, somewhere. . .there had to be. . .

She froze on one. Megamind Succeeds! Metro Man Dead! He'd won?

No. He hadn't. The memories fit together more, and she began furiously writing down what she could. Metro Man was alive - he'd faked his death. Why? Something about. . .being tired? He'd looked tired when retelling the story. Tired of being a hero?

Is that why Megamind had switched sides? Without Metro Man to be the hero, Megamind had fallen into the role? That sounded only. . .a little plausible. He'd never looked sad with his part as the villain before, often played it flawlessly. So why the change. . ?

Well, now that she knew where Metro Man was - a twinge of awareness told her she'd just used the wrong name for him - she could just track him down and ask.

She'd never loved her siphon powers more than she did now, allowing a cruel smile. She had a skip in her step when she put on her claws and boots again, and hopped a ride with a love-struck taxi driver. The rest of the charmed humans she'd had under her control she'd released. Only a particular note of her vocal cords could do it, one she'd had to practice long and hard to discover, and she wasn't planning on telling anyone.

By the time she'd reached the tiny red building, all of the memories she'd taken had faded away, leaving her only with her impressions. Red school house, Metro Man within, almost unrecognizable. The interior had been white, she was sure, but upon exiting the taxi, the house didn't look familiar anymore. She knew it was the place, but it brought up no memories.

Which, admittedly, was a big problem for her. She doubted her conclusions more than anyone else in the world, once her borrowed memories faded. Was she sure this was the place? Was she positive Metro Man would be inside? Could these inclinations be trusted?

She went into the building with a single comforting thought: what could she lose? Potentially, she could gain a powerful source to leech off of. That alone was worth the risk of disappointment.

As she explored, she discovered a hidden door within that led down, down, then along a long, dark hallway. Her heart rate kicked up with excitement, already hungry for what was to come. She marveled at the stupidity of an unlocked door for one who was supposed to be dead, then entered as silently as she could (not that she thought she could hide from someone with super hearing).

As she inched around the room, glancing around, she admitted that this must be Metro Man's hidden lair. All the mementoes and etched M's on everything that could possibly be etched into proved it without a doubt.

Eventually, finding no hint of life within, she flopped onto the couch to wait. He'd be back eventually, she told herself, and he'd sooner question her than run and hide. And just to increase his initial confusion, she got up to get herself a drink. After all, she knew how people ticked. She knew even the grandest of (fallen) superheroes would grow too curious to be cautious if she made herself at home in their solitary fortresses.

Showing no hint of malicious intent would help, too, she told herself. And who knows? Her voice might charm even him. That was a tantalizing thought. Forever her little energizer bunny, feeding her his amazing powers with a willing grin - regardless of the fact that he'd still be an unwilling puppet.

Once freed, they were always like that - hateful of her, spiteful, no matter if she treated them kindly or not.

She scowled at the memory that came up, biting into the straw in her long island iced tea. The first time she'd spoken around others, at the age of six, it'd been to a classroom. At first, everyone had been welcoming of her, enchanted by the solitary "hello" she'd uttered. She'd thought they were just being kind.

Every time she murmured another word, they'd liked her more, smiled more. And then she'd been touched by a boy, who'd reached out to touch her cheek, and he'd yelled out in agony. The spell was broken for him, and everyone else cowered back. She, too, had been rocked, not understanding what had just happened.

Several switched schools later, and she'd gained knowledge of herself. Her voice lured others in, while her skin sucked out their very lives, complete with memories. So she'd begun dressing herself head-to-toe in clothes, never speaking, never touching. Anytime she unwittingly charmed someone, she refused to speak again for weeks at a time, until her voice grew so unused it seemed to fail working altogether.

And so many times during the next few years, she would try again and again to make friends, thinking that this time, her voice wouldn't make them like her; this time, her touch wouldn't hurt them.

Hope really was the worst emotion one could feel. One broken heart after another in her life, and she'd yet to realize this? She never should have hoped to become friends - or more - with Megamind. Ridiculous. She should have known it would all fall apart again. It was her destiny.

Though. . .maybe not. She tilted her head as she thought back.

For as many years as she fought her innate abilities, she'd also tried to train them. To roughen her voice, to deaden her touch. The touching part seemed to be put back into her control, if only slightly. She remembered falling from that tower, remembered Roxanne Ritchi grabbing onto her. And when she'd held the other woman, Roxanne's cheek had been on her bared shoulder. Yet she hadn't siphoned anything; had, in fact, been instinctively trying to control it.

It had. . .worked?

Curious. She rose her brows with pride. She'd kept her skin from harming the woman, kept any draining from occurring. Instinctively. If only she could control that all the time. . .if only she could've been able to ten years ago. . .

If only.

She snorted. If only was about as useless as I hope. Ridiculous. Wishing for the future or the past; both were wastes of time.

Her awareness pricked up then, and she glanced up to see she wasn't alone anymore. There stood a tall man, eying her carefully, his countenance hidden behind a thick beard, long trench coat and down-pointed hat. A usual suspect for a lineup, she mused, but otherwise hidden from wandering gazes.

She let the straw slip from her lips, waiting for him to speak first, aware that her position was definitely of one who owned the place. Her ankles were crossed on the table in front of her, one arm braced over the back of the couch, sitting askew on the furniture with an alcoholic beverage in her hand.

"Syphon?" he checked.

Wow. Her eyes widened. She may have a charming voice, but so did he. She feared she liked him already.

Still, she replied in the same suspicious tone, "Metro Man?"

A moment passed before he shook his head.

She made a show of glancing around the room, then looking back to him with a raised brow. ". . .No?" she prodded. "Oh. . .yes. You changed your name, did you not?" She purposefully made her voice sweet, watching for his reactions.

He swayed on his feet. Oh yes, he was affected. She bit back a grin.

"Music Man," he corrected, his voice a tad more gruff now, his eyes narrowed. "Now get out of here. You're not welcome."

Sounded like he really didn't want to bring attention to himself. After all, there'd be a show if he forced her out. Fine; she could roll with that. She slid her feet off the table, setting her glass down; he backed up with a clearly wary gaze. As she got to her feet, she said, "As you wish. I wouldn't want to impose upon you. After all," she strode closer to the door, and thus, closer to him, "I can see you have your hands full with your new. . .calling."

More and more he seemed to fall under her spell, but he was making a hell of a fight. Most people were under by now. With him, she felt both annoyance and grudging respect. With Megamind, she'd felt nothing but awe. She'd thought his advanced brain had saved him from her voice, but when Roxanne, too, remained immune, she'd realized the truth. Love had shielded them both; devotion had given them focus.

So how was Metro Man - scratch that; Music Man - still giving her get-the-hell-out looks?

Lucky for her, he rose to the challenge her words offered. "I don't regret my choices," he bit out, voice steady when the rest of him was anything but. "Megamind is a fine hero."

"Oh, indeed, I agree," she said, partially just to weave her vocal magic more. "But look at you. You may not want to be a hero anymore, but you can't just let your powers go unused, can you? I mean, how would you use x-ray vision in concerts? Or flight? Or your massive strength?" This last she said in a purr, coming closer as he wobbled to the side, shaking himself. He collapsed into a chair.

Struggling to answer now, he bit out, "I'll make it work. You - out."

She had to admire him. All that strength weakened, and yet he was still using the remains of it to get her away. He knew the devastating effects of her voice; she was sure of it. Someone had tipped him off. It couldn't have been Megamind - he was seconds from passing out when she'd left. So it must have been Roxanne.

Which meant Roxanne, too, knew Metro Man was alive. She wondered if she could use that. . .

"But you don't want your powers anymore, do you?" Syphon went on, practically humming the words. No one could sing the way she could. "You consider them a burden. I don't. So who told you about me? The birdie, Roxanne?" She stepped closer to him as she spoke, until she braced her hands on the back of the chair he sat in, leaning over him.

The way his eyes sparked with recognition told her she was right, but he didn't seem to have enough will to fight her off, even with words, anymore. He grit his teeth, glaring.

All that strength, for naught. She felt her face split in a dark grin.

"Did she tell you," she continued, "about my powers? I could take them from you, all that strength and flight and everything. It wouldn't be permanent, but it would last for a while. Would you like that, Music Man?" she taunted, leaning closer, trying to read his eyes. He hadn't given in yet. "Would you like to be normal for a bit? Two or three days, even?"

His willpower was amazing, she realized, as even her most luscious of purrs wasn't crushing him. His fingers bit into the arms of the chair, but still he resisted. Impressive.

"I could even test my limits with you. Taking all of your power would be deadly, I'm sure," she went on, thoughtful. "Probably to me, too, so we won't be going that far. Not that I would want to kill you anyway. Oh no, you're like my own personal gold mine. Come on, now. Give in," she urged, waiting for that glaze to coat his eyes, that glaze she was so used to seeing. "You'll feel happy to give me whatever I want, I promise. And I'll keep coming back to sap your powers, leave you normal. It's a win-win."

"For. . .you. . ." he ground out, anger threading his gaze.

She reared back, unsure if she should be infuriated or excited. No one had ever fought her so hard before; she hadn't spoken this much to even Megamind. How was he still fighting?

Unbidden, she began to laugh, backing away from him. She clapped just once, excitement threading through her. She wanted his powers now, more than she ever had before. And since he couldn't physically fight her off, she could easily take them. But somehow, it seemed like a cheating way to do it.

Grinning again, she said, "Oh, you're great fun! I'll give you a few days to recover, I promise, before I come back here. And when I do, I'll keep from speaking. I want to take your powers from you without all this weakening charm preventing you from really fighting."

Her laughter always won over people before; Music Man was still fighting. She was liking this more and more. . . With another heartfelt chuckle at his wide-eyed, shocked gaze, she spun and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

What fun it was going to be when she got back. In the meantime. . .

She dug up an address back in her lair, an address she'd pulled out of. . .someone's. . .head. Within this building, she knew there was always at least one supervillain hiding out.

All she needed was one.