For some reason, Roxanne's boss didn't consider "Megamind was really beat up" a legitimate excuse for missing a morning meeting. After all, he'd said, Metroman had never seemed to do any permanent damage, and he could bend steel.

Roxanne took her lumps and didn't bother saying that Metroman was probably pulling his punches. As it was, Megamind probably wouldn't thank her for telling someone he was out of commission. She should have kept her damn mouth shut. Who knew who was out there, plotting?

And that was the concerning thing. Someone had deliberately hurt him, which must have taken some doing. But they hadn't killedhim. They could have, assuming Megamind hadn't fended them off. He didn't look like he was in much of a position to fend off a mosquito bite when she'd found him, but his alien adrenaline was a hell of a thing. You never knew.

Her reporter mind was ticking. There was a story here. Not one she intended to tell the citizens of Metrocity - at least, not until everything was a resolved. But it was a story she definitely wanted to track down.

But not while she was on the clock. Roxanne put on her bright, sensible reporter face and did her local reporting, today on a three-car collision at a busy intersection. A fire had started, but thankfully no one had been killed. Please, god, let it not have been Minion's fault. He should have been home by then but she couldn't help the stab of guilt she felt when she arrived at an intersection they'd sped through that very morning.

When she headed out of the office for the day, she checked her messages. Minion hadn't called, but she wanted to touch base with him before heading out to hunt down clues in that alleyway. There had to have been something, and she didn't want to leave it another night. Every minute she wasted clues were getting cold. She'd check out the place this evening, and ask Megamind for his side of things tomorrow.

Or tonight. She could pick up some clothes and call by there afterwards. She bit her lip. She did want to see him, but they hadn't really spent the night together before. Last night had been the first time she'd slept in the same room as him - if you didn't count all the gas-induced kidnapping naps, anyway. They'd been technically together for months, watching movies and introducing one another to their favourite music... but after his Bernard betrayal and the whole Titan thing, it was still a delicate affair. He was new to relationships, and hell it'd been a long time since she'd been a part of anything serious. She didn't want to push him, or herself, come to that.

No. She'd go home, and see him tomorrow after work.

But first, she had to call Minion.

It was Megamind who picked up, and she cursed herself inwardly. She hadn't expected him to answer the old cellphone, but then, why did it matter?

"Megs! How are you?"

"I wish people would quit asking me that. It's all I've been hearing from Minion all day!" A pause at the other end of the line, then, his voice tight, "My arm - my hand - Minion's being stingy with the painkillers."

"I thought they were long-lasting."

"They are. But the time between the effects wearing off and the next dose... anyway, will you... uh... be coming round...?"

Goddamnit.

"No, I uh, I have something I need to do. For work. Sorry."

"Oh." The disappointment in his voice stung. "Uh, no matter, just... thought we could watch a movie or something," he rallied. "Can't do anything with this hand."

"Yeah." For a man so into drawing and building and brainstorming, not being able to work on anything must be driving him crazy. At least now his hand was hurting too much to really consider it. It was when it started healing he'd really be bouncing off the walls.

She told him to take care of himself and begged off the phone. If it had been Minion who'd picked up, she'd have told him about her plans to return to the alley. Megamind, well... she didn't want him doing something stupid like coming out after her.

"Roxanne! You headed somewhere? You have your 'Determined Face' on."

She span on her heel in the parking lot to see Rick, her new camera technician, giving her a fond smile. She relaxed an iota. Rick had been hugely supportive since she had come back to work, post-Titan. He was new to the channel, but dedicated, and a real treat to work with every day. Hal had... well, he'd always been there, it was true, but with Hal it was always sort of creepy, like he'd just been waiting for her call. Rick had a life. He had a boyfriend. He had a daughter. And he was, more quickly than she had thought possible, turning into someone Roxanne felt she could trust.

So she smiled back at him when she said "No, not really, Rick. Nothing I need help on, anyway. You go home and kiss Sally for me."

His lips twitched into a wider smile. "I will. You be careful out there, spitfire. Lemme know if you need some back-up." He threw her a lazy salute and walked past her towards his car.

Phew. Roxanne blew air up over her face. Rick was a good guy but she needed her space for this one. Besides, no one else needed to know Megamind wasn't in great shape. She shouldn't even have told her boss. That's what letting yourself get flustered will get you, she berated herself. "Flustered" wasn't a word she wanted associated with herself.

The alleyway was just as she'd left it. Well, almost. When she stepped into the shadows of the two buildings she heard a soft bowg, and looked up to see one of the brain-bots, poking its little camera eye out of hiding.

"Have you been keeping an eye out?" she asked it in a hushed voice.

The little robot approximated a nod.

Megamind would know she was here, then. But he was keeping watch, to see who was poking around. That was smart.

She hestitated, then said to the brain-bot, "Tell Daddy hi from me."

Another soft bowg, and it snuck back under the eaves where it had been hiding.

Roxanne turned her attention to the alley, really for the first time. This morning had been a panicked rush, and last night... well, she hadn't really been concentrating on the surroundings. Now, she tried to focus, seeing what was there, what was out of place, what didn't belong.

Cigarette butts, which might be important or might be totally irrelevant. The small patch of dried blood by the wall, which didn't help. A garbage can knocked over... wait...

She righted the garbage can, pulling out her small flashlight to get a better look in and around it. Yes, there was a small spatter of blood here, like... from an object...

A shine of blood from the can liner drew her to it, and she pulled the object from amongst the garbage with the aid of a tissue. A hammer, with a squareish, heavy head to it. The metal - iron? Lead? - was stained with dried blood. Long spatterings of it had dried on the wooden handle.

Fuck. Okay. This was evidence. This was - this was real evidence.

She set it down on the asphalt and pulled a plastic evidence bag from her back pocket. With care, she dropped the mallet inside and snapped the top of the bag closed.

Roxanne exhaled. Okay. Keep looking.

Tiny spots of blood here and there led her further down the alley. The back of the alley was closed off by another building, and suddenly, Roxanne paused. A blind alley. Why hadn't she noticed that before? A blind alley. Did they chase him in here? Lay a trap for him? Or... She ran her eyes over the barred window of the building in front of her, then looked over her shoulder, searching for doors. They could have come from one of these buildings.

The thought made a chill run through her. Did they live here, work here? Were they here right now, watching?

She swallowed, and shook her head. Focus, Ritchie. Get the story, then get out of here.

The short trail ended with a larger splatter near the end of the alleyway. There was a broken bottle here, with some blood on it. Not his, she guessed. Though the blood on the ground certainly was. She crouched for a closer look. Was that... a bit of blue? Skin?

Her stomach roiled. She lurched upwards and stepped away, taking a few deep breaths to calm her stomach. Setting her jaw, she turned back, and pulled out her cellphone to take a picture.

There, partly outlined in blood, was a footprint. A clue.