"I have a gift for you," Roxanne says, before she can chicken out.
Megamind pulls up short and turns with his hand still upraised, blinking. "Excuse me?" He had been about to give the order to kick everything off.
It's Halloween. Easily Roxanne's favorite holiday, and based on her observations, probably Megamind's as well—he goes all out for his Halloween plots, with spooky music and flickery lights. This one appears to be skeleton-themed. Roxanne isn't sure how Megamind has managed to create an army of beautifully-articulated silver skeletons with glowing red eyes, but she is here for it.
She is also exceptionally nervous. The skeletons have nothing to do with her nerves.
"A gift," she says. "It's in my purse. In a box."
Megamind cocks his head. "A gift," he echoes. "For me?"
Roxanne nods. "In my purse. Do you still have it handy?"
The October wind picks up, ruffling her hair. They're outside, for this plot. The Metro Museum of Modern Art has a steeply-sloped roof, and the ranks of Megamind's skeleton army are arrayed down its slope, ready to descend on the city from their odd vantage. Roxanne is tied to some kind of laser cannon in the back, at the top of the slope, with Megamind standing by.
Looking quite taken aback but not opposed, Megamind slowly lowers his hand.
"Um," he says. "Yes. One…one moment."
Roxanne bites her lip.
Megamind rehydrates her bag out of a cube he pulls from some interior pocket dimension in his leathers. It took Roxanne some time to stop wincing every time he put his whole hand into his leg, but at this point she's fairly used to Megamind rummaging around in spaces that only exist outside of space. It's impressive how easily he's able to find the right cube, honestly.
He reaches into her purse, shooting her a doubtful glance that slides into what looks like genuine surprise when he finds the box she told him about.
"Oh," he says, blinking down at it as he pulls it free. It's wrapped in black paper with a pattern of fall leaves sprinkled over it, tied with bright orange ribbons and a gift bow. "It's…heavy."
"It isn't much," Roxanne says. "It's just…well, you'll see."
Megamind dehydrates her purse again and stows it safely away, then turns the gift box over and over in his long fingers like a Rubik's Cube for a moment.
"But I don't have anything for you," he says.
Roxanne shrugs. "That's all right, I just wanted to give you something. Happy Halloween."
Sending her a smile she's never seen before, sort of astonished delight, Megamind pulls the ribbons free and sticks the sticky bow to his forehead at a jaunty angle that makes Roxanne laugh. He arches a brow at her, grinning, and removes the wrapping paper. It goes into the same pocket as her purse.
Finally he opens the box and shuffles the tissue paper aside. Roxanne waits, hardly breathing—
His expression lights up. "Oh! It's cute!"
The glass pumpkin is small enough to fit in his palm, but it is solid glass and, as he said, quite heavy for its size. It's mottled sky and cobalt blue, with a neatly-coiled black stem.
Megamind looks up at Roxanne, beaming, his green eyes sparkling. "A little pumpkin! For me?"
She nods. "It's your colors."
"It is! It's perfect, where did you find it?" He's turning it around and around, studying it, smiling far too wide like a Cheshire cat the way he always does when he forgets himself.
"I didn't, I made it," Roxanne says.
Megamind snaps his gaze back to her as his mouth falls open. "You made—you made this?"
"There was, um, there was a class," she says. "And they had the colors, and…it's a little bit lopsided, sorry, but…I wanted you to have that."
"You made this for me," he exclaims, staring down at it and then blinking back up at her. "You…why? Thank you! Why?"
He really does look completely delighted about the whole thing. Roxanne had hoped he might be happy with it, had hoped that if he was happy, it might make this next part easier.
It doesn't.
"Um," she says again. She is going to spontaneously combust, oh god. "Well, it…I…thought, I thought maybe I could…give that to you, and, and I could ask if…maybe you might want to be my pumpkin."
Megamind stares at her, then snort-splutters into a cackle of startled laughter. "If I what?"
"If—okay, it was cheesy, but you don't have to laugh that hard," Roxanne says, stung. Her face is hot. "Look, it's fine if—if you don't want to—"
"You're not serious," he exclaims, still laughing. "If I…if…"
Roxanne looks away, and Megamind trails off.
"…You are serious," he realizes.
She shrugs, not trusting herself to speak. Or look at him.
Megamind looks down at his pumpkin.
"Oh," he says.
Roxanne stares hard at nothing. She is not going to cry. She is fine. This is Megamind's fault for never doing anything on Valentine's Day; she had to go the cheesy route. The idea had sounded more cute than corndog in her head but oh, lord, saying it out loud—
He sweeps over in front of her in a rush of cape and boots and crouches down. "I do apologize," he says, moving his head to try and get her to look at him. "I should not have laughed. That was—I—was cruel, forgive me," he says. "I didn't—I didn't think you could possibly honestly want—?"
He touches Roxanne's knee with the very tips of his fingers. Startled, she does look at him then, finds him wide-eyed and looking terribly earnest, with his other hand wrapped tightly around his pumpkin and clutching it to his chest.
Wordless, she nods.
His eyebrows fly up his forehead and his lips part.
"Oh," he says again. "Oh! I—well, I—yes? Yes!"
Roxanne hesitates, uncertain relief swirling through her. "Yes?"
Vigorous nodding from the supervillain in front of her. "Yes! Very definitely! And I," he gulps, "I do have—something I can give you, in that case, it so happens. If, if you—if you are not very angry with me."
"Not angry," she says, exhaling into a laugh as she relaxes. "You…okay! Great! Yay! Whew. Ha ha."
The look on his sharp face is another one she's never seen on him before: joyful and wondering. He swallows, pats her knee, gestures wordlessly at her for a moment. "Close your eyes?" he finally says. "Don't look at me?"
"Can I have my hands back?" Roxanne asks.
"Oh! Yes, of course! Right!"
He pops to his feet and scampers around behind her, his plans for the day apparently forgotten for now. The skin of Roxanne's wrists lights up like fire at the brush of his fingers as he unties her. Holy shit? Did this—actually work? Is this actually turning out—?
And then he's in front of her again, with his elbows at his sides and his pumpkin still clutched in his hands, staring with big eyes down at her in her chair.
"Really?" he says. "Me? Pumpkin? Yours?"
Feeling exceptionally awkward, she shrugs and gets to her feet. "You don't do anything for Valentine's Day, so…yeah. You get cheesy pumpkins. This is your fault."
He looks down at the lump of blue glass he's holding. "And you…made this. For me."
"I did." She pauses, then asks, "And…you said there was something…?"
"Ah. Yes. Ah—hm," he says, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking very nervous. "And it's—you're—not just doing this to escape, you are serious about—"
"Oh, for pete's sake," Roxanne sighs, and she leans forward and kisses him. Hoping hoping hoping she is reading him correctly. Oh no, his lips are soft and nice. Oh no, his beard is soft, that's unexpected.
Megamind's eyes are very round when she withdraws. He blinks a couple of times. And Roxanne starts to ask if that was okay—but then suddenly he scowls.
"That was mine," he exclaims, in a tone of high affront. "You stole it, give it back!"
Roxanne recoils a little bit, thrown. "The…kiss?"
"Yes! I was going to give it to you and then you stole it! Give it back!"
And so she snorts, and kisses him again, and it's a good little while before the army of patiently-waiting skeletons gets to do anything fun.
Their anniversary rolls around the following year and Roxanne is racking her brain for several months prior. She honestly had not really anticipated they would get this far. A whole year? With Megamind? He's so all over the place, bouncing from one interest to the next. She had hoped for something long-term, of course, and she had decided he was worth the ask even if all he could ever give her was a few months of his time.
Turns out his mind may skip around, but he is intensely steadfast and loyal in matters of the heart. Even when Roxanne began to relax and stop trying so hard to stay ahead of him, even when she began to let her metaphorical hair down around him, all he did was…start to relax as well. It had freaked the bejeesus out of him, frankly. He is not accustomed to trusting, or to being trusted; Roxanne knows neither feels safe to him…but he's been starving for trust all his life, in either direction. It feels unsafe but he can't seem to help himself, poor thing.
But he had been so cute about the pumpkin. It wasn't very good, really it wasn't—Roxanne did her best, but she's no artist. And Megamind works so much with his hands; if he can't make it, he tends to assume it can't be made, so she really does want to actually make something for him again.
…Another pumpkin? He gets so funny and spluttery about the endearment. Maybe she could make it into a Thing?
So she signs up for a series of classes this time, instead of just an afternoon one-off. Glass is a challenging medium and she worries, at first, about how she'll be able to explain away the occasional burn. But then she thinks, no, why try to explain anything away? She can trust him.
"I'm taking night classes," she says, when Megamind exclaims in dismay over the blister he finds her icing on the back of her hand near her wrist, near the base of her thumb. "It's for a surprise. I'm fine."
A bubble she had been lampworking earlier that evening had cooled too quickly and shattered, and cool is a relative term when it comes to glass, Roxanne has found. It hadn't been glowing anymore when it broke, but the pieces were still probably close to two thousand degrees when they went everywhere. Most hit the table, or her sweater, but one had unfortunately landed on her skin and she had very nearly gone to swat it away with her other hand before remembering to shake it off instead.
It hadn't felt too bad, at first. But the pain has only increased. She ran it under cold water as quickly as she could, but…well. Two thousand degrees is two thousand degrees. It's not like she spilled a pot of beans on the stove. Glass melts at roughly the same temperature as wrought iron. Or stone.
"You are not fine, you are burned," Megamind protests. "Roxanne, what—why are you—?"
"It's for a surprise," she insists. She quickly ducks forward and kisses him. "Don't ask. Please? I'll be fine."
He sighs unhappily, but he nods. And then he straightens, and turns, and he goes and pulls a chemical cold pack down from a box on top of the refrigerator. "This is better than ice," he says, wrapping it in paper towels. He pulls out the other chair at the little table and sits down in it, scoots close. "Ice is too harsh. Here. Let me."
So Roxanne sits, with her hand on the table and a cool compress on her burn, and spindly, leather-gloved fingers pressing it down.
She smiles a little, shifting her fingers to pet gently along the side of Megamind's hand.
"Thank you, pumpkin," she says. "You're so good to me."
His ears turn as pink as they always do and he huffs a laugh as he always does. "Aha. Well. I try," he says. He slides his free hand under hers, so he's holding her hand with both of his.
Roxanne warms.
"I'm glad it's for a class," he says. "I…for a moment, I thought you…" He pauses, then sighs.
She cocks her head, but Megamind keeps his eyes down, and all he says is, "So. Will this night class result in additional injuries? If so, I will make more cold packs."
Roxanne grimaces. "Probably," she admits. "I'm being careful, but…accidents happen. Burns, cuts. You get it."
"I do." He swallows. "But you are having fun, yes? Despite this?"
She nods. "I am! I really am. My instructor is good."
She pauses for a moment as a thought occurs. "Why do you have these?" she asks, nodding at the cold compress. "You wear gloves pretty much all the time, I don't think I've ever seen you get burned."
His lips twitch. "You have. But I hide it well. And it has been a while." He's quiet for a moment. "Please do be careful," he finally says. "I know, I know, you said you will be. I just. Need to say it."
Roxanne waits. She knows, at this point, when Megamind is struggling to say something.
"I don't like seeing you hurt," he says, finally.
From someone else, she might have read something unfortunate into that. Something like I wish you would stop doing the fun thing, or, I wish you wouldn't let me see you like this. But Megamind has talked to her a few times about his trouble connecting with people—difficulty caring, difficulty remembering to care. He likes people, a lot of the time, which is unfortunate for him. But if he doesn't know someone personally, there's a disconnect, he says. And sometimes even when he does know them. From him, I don't like seeing you hurt means something very specific.
"I love you, too," Roxanne says, smiling.
His green eyes flick up to meet her gaze—
—and then his mouth tugs into an answering smile, even though his brows are still pulled tightly together. He leans forward and kisses her, then bumps foreheads with his head still turned, the side of his long nose nudging against hers.
"Fairy tale boyfriend," Roxanne says. "You are wonderful."
But to her surprise, Megamind snorts and sits back. "I hope not," he says. "I should hope I—have—somewhat more to offer than silly nothing 'happily ever after' nonsense."
Blinking, Roxanne cocks her head. That was out of left field.
"You don't like fairy tales?" she asks. "I was trying to think of some kind of pun with un príncipe azul, but…"
"Fairy tales end," he says. "They're just. Stories. Ultimately meaningless."
"What do you think happily ever after means?"
"I think it means the author did not want to write any more." His voice is unexpectedly sharp. "I think it is a trite nothing phrase. It means nothing. And—in—all of the stories that explore the after, no they don't. They do not live happily."
He's getting upset, she can tell, but she's honestly too confused to drop it. "Those are also just stories," she protests. "They…look, what's going on?" She shakes her head. "I feel like I'm missing some important subtext, what's…?"
"And when the clock strikes midnight," he snaps, "when our clock strikes, what does this become?" He flicks a hand back and forth between the two of them, "This, us, what does it become? A—broken pumpkin?" His lip curls, and Roxanne knows he isn't talking about carriages. "Rotting in the street?"
"Megamind—"
"No." He gets to his feet. "No, just—no. What are you even doing here? Go home."
Roxanne stares at him, and Megamind snarls and turns on his heel and stalks away.
…Okay.
It's been a while since he went sharp like that so suddenly. She really is not sure what that one was about; she's going to have to track him down to try and find out.
And she's expecting him to try to deflect, when she finds him. Sometimes when he flees like that, he tries to act like absolutely nothing is wrong, after; it's…honestly her only real complaint about him so far. But she gives it a few minutes and then she gets to her feet. She wraps the cold pack in a fresh paper towel and then uses Saran wrap to keep it in place on her hand, and then she has one of the brainbots take her to where Megamind is sitting on the sofa in Minion's herb corner in Main Storage.
He doesn't look up as she approaches. His gloves are off.
There's…a bouquet of flowers lying on its side on the coffee table. Roxanne blinks at that for a moment, then re-focuses on Megamind.
"Hey."
His shoulders come up as he pulls a breath, but he nods acknowledgment, and Roxanne slides onto the couch beside him.
"Fairy tales end," she says. "Real life doesn't. But…since you asked."
His throat works. He doesn't look up.
"When the clock strikes," she says, watching for his subtle flinch, "and everything goes back to broken pumpkins…yes, fine, the pumpkin will rot. Because that is what pumpkins do. But it has to do that; do you know why?"
He shakes his head.
"So it can go to seed." She takes his hand and squeezes hard. "So we can sow a garden that lasts."
His head snaps around and he stares at her, incredulity etched all over his face. Roxanne stays on track.
"But the only way that works," she says, "is if we both stick around long enough to gather the seeds. Okay?"
"And if I break it," he blurts. "If—if I—if I do something, if I break it—?"
She knows better than to say you won't or you can't when he's upset like this. "Well," she says. She can't help her little smile. "Pumpkins grow in patches, don't they?"
Megamind blinks.
"We'll mend it," Roxanne says. "If it breaks, we'll patch and mend it stronger. I've told you, love, I'm in this to win it with you. Remember?"
There. He exhales, and some of the stiffness leaves his shoulders as the fight goes out of him. He nods.
Roxanne tilts her head. "Were you looking for me, earlier?" she asks. "Before you got distracted with my hand?"
Another nod. "I…was, yes. I, there was…something I…have wanted to ask you. But." He sighs. "I am…something of a mess, Roxanne. You know this."
"I know this, and I love you," she says, but he doesn't return her smile.
"I just…remembered." He swallows. "And crashed, a little, I think. You know I still smoke, on occasion."
"I do." They haven't talked about it, but she's smelled it on him once or twice, and she's heard from a couple sources that he was going through multiple packs a day when he was younger.
Megamind sighs. "It has been some time," he says, "since I…well. The urge still strikes, sometimes, I don't know why." He pulls his hand away and turns it over, and then he offers it to her again.
Confused, Roxanne takes it and blinks down at his palm. Now that she's looking…
She's never noticed before, but now that she's looking, she can see a subtle collection of pale marks scattered over the heel of his thumb. Layers of little round scars.
"I got in the habit of wearing gloves to break myself of this one," he says.
…Ah.
"My brother wears jeans all year round for the same reason," she says. "It was the tops of his knees, for him."
Megamind's startled-looking gaze flicks up to her.
"I'm proud of you," she tells him. "It's a difficult habit to break."
"The urge still strikes," he says again, as if she hadn't heard him the first time. "I don't know why."
"…I know," she returns. "It's a difficult habit to break."
He stares at her.
After a moment, she shakes her head. "I don't know what you're expecting me to say," she says. "Sweetheart, I'm…happy these are scars, but I'd love you just the same if they were fresh. Did you think I would stop? For this?"
His expression pinches. "I…no, not stop, but…"
"That I'd think less of you, then? Why on earth would I think any less of you for this?" She shakes her head. "What, just because you think less of yourself? I wish you wouldn't. This is incredibly normal."
Megamind recoils.
"It's not good," she says, shrugging hard, "causing physical damage isn't good, but…my god, Megamind, I think one in five people has struggled with this at some point? One in six? Something like that. You're in excellent company, pumpkin."
He splutters into a blush the way he always does. "You—enough!" he exclaims, but he's half-laughing, suddenly. "Enough with the pumpkining me! I'm being serious!"
"So am I!" She throws up her hands, then catches his again and kisses it. "Sweetheart, oh my god. Thank you for showing me. You didn't have to. I'm honored. What was the thing you wanted to ask? Were those flowers for me? Before I accidentally reminded you how much you don't like yourself?"
Megamind sends her a dirty look and flips her off, but Roxanne just grins and flashes a hand out and catches him, holds him still, and plunges her mouth down onto his finger. Megamind yelps, then slaps his other hand over his mouth.
She's still wearing her wicked grin as she slowly withdraws, cocking an eyebrow, eyes sparkling with mischief and laughter at the look on Megamind's now very pink face.
"You—! You are the worst!" he exclaims as she gives him back his hand. She's laughing, so is he. "You are the worst, I don't know why I put up with you! Yes, the flowers are yours. Move in with me."
Roxanne had been going to say—something—she doesn't remember what. That last part—
She freezes, staring at him, still half-laughing and trying to process. "What—wait, what?"
"Move in with me?" he says again. He gives a very sharp shrug. "Look, you asked why I was looking for you, and that was—oof—!"
Roxanne has just thrown herself sideways and flung her arms around him, hug-tackling him sideways down onto the sofa. "Yes!" she exclaims. "Yes, oh my god! Aw, sweetheart! I didn't know that's where you were going with this! No wonder you got all freaked out. That's—ow. Ow."
She's just bumped the cold pack askew and sent a shock of pain through the burn on her hand. Megamind sits up immediately, pushing her up as well so he can pull her hand into his lap and unwrap the plastic Saran. "Here—sorry—and okay, no, one paper towel is not enough, you're going to make this worse. Come on," he says, and tugs her to her feet. "Come on, we're putting ointment and a properly-wrapped pack on this and then we're going to bed."
"Yay, bed," says Roxanne. "Wait—no, hold on, kiss first. You just asked me to move in with you, kiss me."
"But your hand," he says, whining and tugging on her, grinning.
"But my mouth," she replies, in the same tone, and Megamind rolls his eyes and makes a noise like ugh, fine, and he pulls her into his arms and kisses her, laughing.
The pumpkin she makes him that year is purple, dappled with silver, and it is larger than the previous one and better-made.
He laughs when he pulls the thing out of its paper. "Ah, yes, another pumpkin for your pumpkin," he says, dry. "Thank you, my dear, it's lovely. I will put this one on my nightstand, I think."
He keeps the first one on the desk where he does most of his preliminary design work. It seems silly to remember now, but Roxanne really had not been sure he liked it very much, back when she gave it to him originally. From the way he reacted, he seemed as though any gift would have made him light up. But she's found him asleep on his desk a few times now, and he often has his hand curled over his little lump-of-glass pumpkin, its coiled stem poking between his fingers.
"Did you make this one as well?"
She nods. "I did! That's the class I've been going to. Do you like it?"
"I do. And I like you. Very much."
Roxanne grins as she watches him get to his feet. "And do you have a kiss for me?"
Megamind's lips are twitching. "I have quite a bit more than a kiss for you, yes. But you can have the kiss now. The rest will have to wait until…later."
"Ooo, lucky me," she beams as he bends down and she leans up.
The year after that is a difficult one. Metro Man retires, first of all, and he goes about it in perhaps the worst way possible. Megamind is in shock for several weeks before he discovers his accidental homicide was in fact a very intentional if impulsive pseudocide. Roxanne is grieving, and trying to comfort her partner, and trying not to be angry with her partner for murdering—okay, fine, 'destroying' is the technical term in their line of work, but the effect is the same—her friend. She's dating the villain, but she very much was friends with the hero.
Funny how none of them anticipated that becoming an actual issue.
But they get through it. It's hard, but they do make it through. And it results in Megamind sort of accidentally-on-purpose stumbling into a "Defender" title when a couple of high-profile transient villains wander into town to challenge him on his home turf. Their timing is horrendous; he's been struggling with the ins and outs of actually running a city and he's just finally gotten sanitation back on track and he is cranky.
He is also a force to be reckoned with when he's angry.
"Did you think this was a game," he snarls, hurling his adversaries down two city blocks and stalking after them, his mech suit rattling the windows as it moves. "Did you think hostages are something to play with? Do you think children are toys? Get out of my city."
He's in the process of negotiating terms with local government a week later when he and Roxanne go to Metro Man's underground fortress in search of—hopefully—closure. They find it, but not in the form they were expecting.
Several very stern conversations later, Metro Man is easing back into the public eye as Wayne Scott. Roxanne spins the whole issue into a conspiracy she and Megamind were in on from the beginning, to protect the city's former hero as he recovered from a stress-induced nervous breakdown. Half of which is true enough. And Wayne helps Megamind catch and wiggle out of some troublesome clauses before the contracts are signed and titles are handed out, so…that's all right. That's fine. Roxanne is angry, but she can live with angry. She pours her feelings into therapy and the heat of the furnace and torch.
And by the time Halloween rolls around again, she's gotten really good at making pumpkins.
"Oh ho!" Megamind exclaims, lifting this year's out of its cotton fluff. "This one is red!"
"It is!" Roxanne grins. "I thought, well, the other two were your colors, so…they needed one like me to keep them company."
He laughs. "Cute. And I am glad of your company," he adds. "And your pumpkins. Thank you, Roxanne."
She beams. "I'm glad you like it."
"I love it, and you," he says, reaching for her and letting out a happy little trill when she curls into his arms. "And I am so glad you stayed, this past year. So, so very thankful. I know it wasn't…always easy."
"Staying was easy," she tells him. "You could be difficult, sometimes, but…staying? Staying was easy. I knew we'd get through it, one way or another. You were worth it, love."
He's mostly stopped pushing back when she says things like you were worth it. Mostly now he just turns pink and laughs.
"I'm glad," he says. "And! I have something for you as well."
He reaches down and pulls a squishy package out from under the coffee table and hands it to her. "Leather is traditionally a three-year gift, but since when do I play by the rules?"
He must have wrapped it himself; the layers of messy tape are a dead giveaway. But Roxanne does manage to find an edge, eventually, and the package turns out to contain a leather bomber jacket. "Oh, I love this," she says, shrugging into it. "This will be so good when we're on the bike, it's so cozy!" She unsnaps the pockets and puts her hands in.
And—
"Oh," she says, surprised, and pulls out—
Her expression lights up. "Aw! You got me one, too!"
It's a little ceramic or enamel box in the shape of a pumpkin. Roxanne turns it over in her hands, grinning down at it. "It's so cute," she exclaims. "Where did you find this?"
"Minion found it somewhere, you'll have to ask him," he says. He nods at the box. "You, ah. You should open that."
Roxanne sort of pauses, blinking at him. He's sitting uncharacteristically still, with his hands between his knees. Waiting. After a moment, he twitches a smile at her. Nods a little.
She opens it—
—and hesitates.
It's a ring, of course it's a ring, but this does not feel like a proposal. And it doesn't look like an engagement ring. It's a plain black band, very shiny, very thin.
"Um," she says. "What…finger? Does this go on?"
"Right hand, I think," Megamind says, "wherever it fits best." He takes a deep breath. "It's only been two years, but…I wanted you to have something. This past year was hell, Roxanne."
She nods.
"And you…never wavered. Even when I smashed our pumpkin, as it were," with a kind of bleak laugh, "and broke everything. You stayed. Kept me company, despite all my…nonsense. Even when I was uncertain, you never were. So I…I wanted…to give you that," he swallows, "to…tell you I am planting seeds. For us."
"Aw, sweetheart—"
"So that, so that maybe, if you're…amenable," he continues, not looking at her, "maybe next year, I can…we could…discuss something a little more…a little more. Maybe."
Smiling, Roxanne slips the narrow band onto her right ring finger. "Strong maybe," she agrees. "Very strong maybe. God, I love you. Come here," but she's the one who slides into his lap and puts her arms around his shoulders, and she's the one who turns him and bows him down onto his back on the sofa and cuddles down onto him with her whole self.
"I think that sounds beautiful," she tells him, smiling down at him from where she's propped up on her elbow with Megamind's long neck arched over her arm. "And I can't wait to see what grows out of those seeds you're planting."
He blinks. "Pumpkins, I would expect," he says. "That seems to be the running theme. And I'm yours," he adds, biting his lip and batting his eyes so she laughs.
"You are," she agrees, bumping her nose against his. "You are. Happy anniversary, pumpkin," and Megamind snorts and then finally leans up and kisses her.