Megamind awoke immediately and silently at seven in the morning like he always did; a consequence of his years in hiding while on the run from the authorities in his youth. There had been a need to go undetected then, and so he had trained himself to awaken without need of an alarm clock. He slipped his feet into his bat slippers to keep them from freezing on the lair's stone floor on his way to the kitchen. Coffee cup and chocolate-iced Bavarian cream-filled donut in hand he made his way into the workshop and sunk into his comfortable high backed chair. He took a deep breath and smiled to himself. He loved these quiet, peaceful Sunday mornings when he had the Lair all to himself.

Megamind had heard about the concept of a day of rest from the prison chaplain, a cheerful friendly man whom he visited often during his short stays in the Metrocity Prison for the Criminally Gifted, and the idea had seemed logical to him. He was aware that his frenetic pace was not sustainable long term and had noticed the effect that constantly attempting to keep up with him had on Minion. Therefore, he had instituted a Day Off rule very early on in his dastardly career.

The rule didn't keep him from waking up early (and nothing so far had been able to block out the constant barrage of project ideas his magnificent brain insisted on throwing at him); but it did allow him the freedom to slow down and breath rather than focusing constantly on "doing something productive". So Minion and the brainbots slept in and he allowed his mind to wander without any set direction or goal. It was actually nice to let go this way and he found that some of his best work and ideas came from these weekly rest sessions rather than from the times he drove himself mercilessly.

He leaned back and allowed his eyes to drift around the room while his thoughts flowed. The workshop was easily the brightest and most lived in area in the Lair. The gigantic two story windows behind him allowed for the optimal level of natural light by which to work. The shelves to his left were cluttered with what to anyone else's eyes would look like a mess of circuit boards, components, and chunks of scrap metal. Megamind of course knew the function of all the items and could find each without looking.

On the wall to his right was a wall-mounted yarn organizer similar to those used by members of the knitting community. Metal bins, mounted in two rows of four, each with a small hole that allowed the contents to be pulled out in a single strand without tangling. The top row was populated by three different gauges of wire and a large ball of red string. The string was used for the idea cloud which hung above his desk taking up most of the room. An impressive number of paper scraps bearing notes, equations, and doodles depended from the ceiling and swayed slightly with every draft that wove its way through the large open space.

The string that held the scraps aloft was mainly red as that was the color Megamind used to denote the ideas which he intended to use for his Evil Plans; but the bottom row of metal bins contained other balls of colored string, each coded to a specific purpose. Green was the color he used to designate projects he was working on for Minion. Upgrades and enhancements for the brainbots were indicated by orange. Yellow string signified miscellaneous projects and ideas. The final bin contained blue string which was… complicated.

Blue had originally, of course, been the color of string that he used to mark his personal projects. Clever improvements to the D-Gun or ideas for new devices that didn't qualify as strictly Evil per se. The current system had worked well for him for many years now but, as of late, there had been a few... snags. First, Miss Ritchie's hair dryer had broken. He didn't really have a color code for that type of project and he had at first tried to design his new version with a more standard blueprint method; but the ideas didn't flow as well with such a flat medium. He eventually had reasoned that, since she hadn't actually asked him to make her a new device, it could still be considered a personal project. This was relieving since he wouldn't have to find the time to devise a new coding method, which would completely ruin the bin system and the entire feel of the workshop.

Then her communication device had been destroyed in that unfortunate incident which he couldn't have possibly predicted and which was clearly due entirely to a defect in the magnet itself. During the course of creating the replacement device he had apparently opened up the floodgates, so to speak, and now he found himself frequently stopping what he was doing to reach for the blue string before the ideas vanished from his brain.

New programs for her communication device, a clip on microphone with increased sound quality and noise cancelling effects. Ever present in the back of his mind was the look she had given him while he was explaining the features of his gift to her. She had seemed genuinely interested in what he was saying. That expression had made her look even more beautiful (something he had previously thought to be impossible) and since then he had been unable to stop the ideas from coming... for some reason.

He forced his thoughts away from that subject. Today might not be about productivity but it was certainly not about driving himself insane either which could be the only result of that line of thinking. His thoughts strayed instead to yesterday's Evil Plan.

Operation Fireworks had been a huge success. It was not a stunt he intended to repeat but there wouldn't be any need. For years to come the guests of the Scott gala would be waiting with bated breath, terrified that he would suddenly spring out from the shadows to menace them. Mrs. Scott's obvious fury had been the diabolical icing on the proverbial cake of Evil.

'Yes, a huge success' he mused with a smirk.

Although he had nearly called the whole thing off when the cloaked brainbot who was recording the event had zoomed in on Metro Man only to reveal Miss Ritchie standing on the balcony as well. His heart had done a slightly painful, pinchy, flipping type motion when he saw her standing next to his nemesis. The dress she had been wearing was very… red and the fact that it was so... red had of course made it very difficult for him to focus on the reaction that his plan was eliciting because of just how… red it was.

Thusly trapped by the natural psychological response to the color of her garment, he had been unable to avoid watching her reaction as well which had, quite understandably, prompted his analytic brain to wonder why she was there at all. The theories began to spin themselves out before him; her every action serving to revise or refute each one in real time.

She could be there on assignment from the news station but she usually reported from outside the mansion and he could see no camera crew. Her body language implied a disconnect between herself and the crowd around her, so presumably she had not attended with a friend. Miss Ritchie didn't seem the type to run in the same circles as the Widow Scott and her simpering brood ( a fact which he counted entirely to her credit) and therefore it was not likely that she had been included on the basis of social obligation.

She had turned her head to look at Metro Man and the thought had hit him like the aforementioned White-Clad Wonder. Could she be there with Metro Man… as his date? Megamind had never noticed a more than professional attachment between the two but he might not have been looking closely enough. After all, wasn't the hero the embodiment of all the things women were said to want in a partner? With his muscular form, perfect hair, and obnoxiously bright smile? Not to mention all that… heroism everyone seemed to love so much.

Megamind's stomach turned at the thought of Miss Ritchie settling for that goody-two-shoes, glorified Elvis impersonator in the audacious three-piece suit. Settling is obviously what it would be, because Miss Ritchie could do so much better than that flying fool. He couldn't think of anyone off the top of his head that she could do so much better with, but it was certainly possible. He was just distracted because of the Evil Plan and the whole… red… thing.

As the show had started he had watched the faces of the assembled throng morph from confusion to apprehension, all except for two. Metro Man's expression was amused, almost hopeful? It was nothing, however, compared to the look on Miss Ritchie's face. She seemed ready to burst with excitement. Even from the brainbot's position about forty feet away, Megamind could see that Miss Ritchie's whole body was tensed as she watched the bursts of light above her head. Her eyes were wide and she seemed to be holding back a smile.

She glanced at Metro Man again and Megamind winced, remembering suddenly that media outlets generally portrayed fireworks as romantic. Perhaps he shouldn't have… but then she looked up at Mrs. Scott for a long moment and actually smirked and Megamind was forced to reevaluate his theory yet again. Could Miss Ritchie merely be looking at the others for the same reason he was? To gauge their reactions? After all, she was a reporter so her instinct would be to collect and analyse data about any newsworthy situation. Megamind unconsciously straightened in his chair. Any situation was immediately newsworthy by default when he was involved.

Miss Ritchie turned her attention back toward the sky. Her eyes followed every shot, her hands clenched together in front of her chest in anticipation and when the finale sounded she put her hand to her mouth and swayed backward even as Metro Man took to the sky.

Megamind abruptly cut the feed and ordered the brainbot to return home before it was discovered. He had whooped and crowed over the victory for quite some time, strutting around the lair as Minion kept up a steady stream of congratulatory remarks. Eventually, however, he had grown tired of preening and decided to quit while he was ahead.

He had been about to doze off when his communicator had chimed to signal Miss Ritchie's message and he found himself unable to do more than stare at it, puzzled, for quite some time. By the time it occurred to him to respond the opportunity had passed and he decided it would be less awkward to stay silent. After all, what could he have said to her that wouldn't have seemed creepy, or pathetic, or…

Minion walked into the workroom to tell Megamind that lunch was ready causing the villain to jump not at all guiltily.

"I'll be right there Minion, I am just very, very, extremely busy at the moment with plans. Evil Plans! So much Evil!" He fumbled for a scrap of paper and a pen as Minion nodded and trotted back out of the room, rolling his eyes once his back was turned.

Megamind drew his logo on the scrap of paper, adding lines to simulate the fiery trails that had created it in last night's display. He scribbled yesterday's date on the bottom and opened the lower right-hand drawer of his desk.

The drawer was filled with similar scraps of paper complete with doodles and dates. It was the drawer Minion had dubbed the Near Success File despite Megamind's insistence that there were at least a dozen instances that could be called actual successes within its depths; Roxanne's latest gadgets being among the ranks of those proud few.

Megamind made a point to find at least one aspect of every plan which could be added to this file. For some plans this was easy and only required that he add a few critical remarks to the margins of the actual project blueprint. Other plans could only contribute certain key components and there were a few lonely scraps where his options for optimism had only allowed him to notate things like, "Able to get through entire monologue without malfunction" or "Metro Man unable to respond smoothly to my mayonnaise-based pun".

He closed the drawer resolutely, determining that he had done quite enough reminiscing for one day and followed Minion to the kitchen. He would feel much better after he ate and then he would finally be able to shake all these blasted distractions and get some good solid creative thinking done. There was an issue with the containment unit on the Mongoose Mobilizer that he had been mulling over for a while and today seemed like the perfect day to finish it.

A/N - I am the worst and I am very very sorry about that. I can't believe it has been so long since I updated this story. In my defense, my whole world kinda fell apart for a while there but mostly I just didn't know what I wanted to do with this story now that my original plot died a horrible death. I know this chapter is exposition central but I needed to establish some stuff so that I couldn't keep changing it in my own head. All the reviewers who have left me feedback since I stopped writing are amazing but Ardina Falconhurst gets the credit for finally making me get off my butt and actually write this down. Hopefully I will have more for you all soon. Let me know if you have suggestions for inventions because that is where I struggle and I could use some help.