"Oh, my god, shut up; that is the worst song I have ever heard!" Roxanne says as they finally get home from Wayne's first gig.

Megamind, who has been singing the terrible song for the entire car ride back (in between bouts of uncontrollable laughter), snickers and continues singing the refrain at full volume:

"She's beauuuuty, she's graaaaaace; she's in love with aliens and spaaaaace! She's gorgeous, she's seductive; she wants to be–mph!"

He cuts himself off abruptly as Roxanne shoves him against the wall and kisses him.

She pulls back after a moment; he looks slightly dazed and extremely kissed.

"Just one," Roxanne grumbles, still half-annoyed and yet unable to stop herself from blushing.

Megamind looks at her inquiringly.

"Not aliens, plural," she says, "just one."

Megamind smiles at that, sweet and soft and sudden, and Roxanne finds that she has to kiss him again.

Roxanne wakes up to Megamind's arms around her and his voice in her ear. He's singing in a low, sweet murmur. Roxanne smiles, eyes closed–she loves his voice, and that singing-under-his-breath thing that he does sometimes is lovely.

Still half asleep, it takes her a moment to realize that what he's singing is that god damn fucking Aliens-and-Space song.

"She's beauty, she's grace; she's in love with aliens and space. She's gorgeous, she's seductive; she wants to be abducted–"

Roxanne groans and pushes him away. He lets her do it, rolling onto his back, laughing as he's singing now.

"She's exquisite, she's romantic! She's tired of this planet!"

"Ughhhh I'm tired of something, all right!" Roxanne says, picking up her pillow and hitting him in the face with it. He grabs it, tosses it aside, and keeps singing, reaching out to caress her face in an overdramatic manner.

"She's intelligent! She's priceless! She's having an extraterrestrial crisis!"

"You're an extraterrestrial crisis," Roxanne growls, rolling on top of him and pinning his wrists to the bed.

"I know," Megamind says, grinning up at her, as though this is exactly where he wants to be.

He gives her a wicked look from beneath his lashes.

"Are you going to have me?"

(she is)

notes: inspired by a tumblr post.