Author's Note:

Warning: First attempt at fanfic; feel free to critique in the comments! I've been watching/commenting on this community (both on LJ and FFnet) since I first saw Megamind in theaters way back in November, but I haven't posted anything original of my own until now. Let me know what you think! And thanks for reading. :)

(P.S. This fic is cross-posted in the LJ community, so for anyone who's read it over there, there's no new info here...yet.)

"Sir!"

"Gah!" Megamind jumped in his chair, barely managing to turn his shriek of surprise into a slightly more dignified shout.

Minion poked his head around the corner, unfazed. His backup robot suit creaked as he leaned in. It hadn't been oiled in a while. "Sir, I asked what you wanted for dinner. Should I make omelets or macaroni and cheese?"

"I don't care, Minion!" Megamind answered irritably. "Can't you see I'm busy working on something?" He clapped the book shut and waved it around in the air. Ink-smudged blue fingers further proved his point.

Minion gave a long-suffering sigh. "But sir, you have to eat—"

"Yes, yes, I will, Minion, but don't interrupt me now! Genius cannot be rushed!" The pen in Megamind's other hand tapped his knee impatiently.

"Of course, sir," the robot-bodied fish muttered, secretly rolling his eyes. In other words, his boss was in the middle of one of his pet projects, and likely would forget to eat for another six hours. He'd have to just whip something up and shove it into Megamind's lap when it was finished.

When Minion had finally clanked his way out of the room, Megamind spun his chair back around to face his cluttered desk. He slowly opened the journal to the page he had been mindlessly working on, and was embarrassed to see a page full of smiley faces, hearts, and—worst of all—a few letters of what he was afraid might be the words "Megamind Ritchi." He winced and scribbled furiously over that last bit.

It had only been a few weeks since the Titan Incident, and Roxanne was finally able to speak to him again. Not that she had been avoiding him or anything, but she'd been mobbed by nosy reporters asking for interviews (hah! the irony!) and doctors monitoring her every move in case she developed signs of post-traumatic stress disorder. They didn't understand how very well adapted she was to stress of the "super" kind. A few visits with a therapist and a couple of aspirin had fixed her right up, or else that was how it had seemed to the former supervillains.

He, on the other hand, stayed in the hospital for ten days recuperating from numerous broken ribs and a minor concussion (which would have been more severe if his large cranium weren't so thick). Throughout that nerve-racking experience, during which he had threatened nearly every doctor on staff with horrible torture if they poked or prodded him one more time, he had worried about Roxanne constantly. Where was she? Why hadn't she contacted him? Had she sustained lasting injuries? Minion had been unable to find these things out for him, and had apologized profusely, but this fact didn't deter Megamind. He was nothing if not persistent.

In the end he had returned home, ribs and head snugly bandaged, to find a note taped near the not-so-secret entrance to his lair. It read, simply, "Call me when you get this. –Roxanne." A phone number was written at the bottom in Roxanne's neat, loopy handwriting. Megamind snatched the note off the wall, glancing shiftily back and forth to make sure no one was watching, and ducked through the hologram wall. A pleasant darkness enveloped him once he stepped inside the warehouse. He absently petted a few the brain-bots that swarmed around him as he made a beeline for his desk. He needed to call Roxanne.

Sadly, although the lair was equipped with technology far more advanced than most humans could ever dream of, Megamind didn't own a phone. Minion had returned the real Bernard's cell phone when Megamind had been admitted into the hospital and the police had visited the lair to interrogate the fish about their future plans. Megamind made a mental note to remind Minion not to answer the door when he wasn't there. That might keep him from giving away useful items to anyone who asked.

Frowning at Roxanne's neat script, Megamind flopped dramatically into his chair. He considered stealing a cell phone from a local store, but quickly discarded the idea. Roxanne would disapprove. He was supposed to be a hero now, a changed man! Or, at least, a changing one.

He slumped in his magnificent, black, quite villainous chair. Megamind, the hero? The thought was laughable. Who was he kidding? Donning a fur-collared white cape didn't automatically transform him into a hero. Not even an infusion of Metro Man's DNA could do that. A cloud of depression settled over him.

One of the brain-bots, perhaps sensing its master's change in mood or perhaps just wanting attention, floated down to Megamind's lap. He absently stroked its glass dome, blue plasma arcing to warm his fingertips. It barked and clanked its jaw in a robotic expression of happiness. Megamind glanced down at it, finally remembering the note that was now crushed in his free hand.

Oh, right. The phone problem. He supposed he would have to deal with it sooner or later.

Shooing the brain-bot off his lap, Megamind abruptly leapt to his feet. "Minion!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the bare chamber. "I'm home!"

Metallic footsteps heralded Minion's entrance, and the fish grinned as he swept his master up in his robotic arms. "It's great to see you again, sir! How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," Megamind wheezed, his injured ribs protesting the hug.

Minion noticed the pained look and quickly set Megamind down. "Sorry about that, I just got carried away," he said sheepishly.

"I noticed," Megamind drawled. "But there's no time for that now. I am on a mission!" He punctuated the word by punching his fist in the air theatrically. The movement pulled on the bandages, but Megamind didn't notice.

Minion looked a little dubious. "A mission, sir?" He might have said more, but was silenced by a repressive glare from his master.

"Yes, Minion, that's what I said, a mission. We need to procure…a cell phone!" Opening his hand with an expressive flourish, Megamind presented Minion with the crumpled-up note.

"What does a tissue have to do with the plan?" Minion asked, still confused.

Megamind huffed in annoyance. "No, no, it's a note." He quickly smoothed out the scrap of paper and held it out to Minion again. "See?"

"Ah, okay, that does make more sense," the fish said, smiling in acknowledgment. "So you want to call Miss Ritchi to see how she's doing?"

To his surprise, Megamind felt his face growing warm. "Yes, that would be the logical assumption, wouldn't it? Now let's get going!"

He stalked off to the garage without looking back. Minion followed, still grinning toothily.

Roxanne ran her hand through her short-cropped hair for the fifth time in as many minutes. It was early evening, and she'd just gotten home from a long first day back at work. She'd been mobbed by concerned and curious co-workers from the first moment; even her boss had asked if Roxanne was sure she was alright to work again. He'd only allowed her to stay when the young reporter had presented him with not one, but three doctor's notes proclaiming her to be healthy and stable.

The concern had been flattering at first, but Roxanne quickly grew frustrated when even the intern who made copies for her had stopped and asked her how she was feeling. She was afraid she'd acted a little too harshly toward him near the end of the day, snapping "I'm fine!" in response to his delicately-phrased inquiry. She'd apologized, but finally left early to preserve her sanity.

Back in her apartment, she flopped onto her big leather couch and kicked off her flats. Long day notwithstanding, it was good to be back at work again. She hadn't taken more than a few days of vacation at once in years. Even though she'd probably needed it, ten days away from the office had been enough to drive her crazy.

Roxanne scanned the newspaper in her hands without really reading the words. It was getting too dark to read, anyway. The late afternoon sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting purple shadows through her tall windows. She stood up to flip on a lamp and jumped when she felt something brush against the top of her head. It was one of the hanging cards that made up the collage of clues she'd collected while researching Titan with Bernard—or rather, Megamind.

A little rush of an emotion that felt uncomfortably like loneliness washed through her. It had only been a couple of weeks, but she hadn't exactly had time for visitors; the only human contact she'd had was her doctors' treatments and her mother's worried phone calls. Roxanne snatched the offending card off its clip and stared at it. It wasn't one of hers; this one had little scribbles all over it and featured a sketch of a bizarrely large-headed blue figure with a gun in one hand and a goofy grin on its face. Another figure (this one with watermelon-sized biceps and a T on its chest) was lying on the ground with Xs drawn in for its eyes.

Roxanne couldn't suppress a little amused smile. She rolled her eyes at her past self. How could she not have seen the similarities between Megamind and the "new and improved" Bernard before? In retrospect, it was so obvious.

Clipping the card back onto its string, Roxanne glanced toward the phone. She'd left a note at Megamind's formerly-evil lair before work that morning; was he going to call? Maybe she'd have to pay him a visit. If she didn't hear from him in the next day or two, she'd drive over. But she didn't want to appear over-eager, so instead she went to her bedroom to slip into some comfortable loungewear and settled down to read.

Megamind self-consciously twitched the white cape more firmly around himself. Perhaps wearing full hero regalia to a cell phone store was not the most well-thought-out plan. People were probably staring. No, scratch that, people were definitely staring. And not in the flatteringly fearful way that he was used to. He ducked his head to seem less conspicuous.

The young woman who was helping him typed quickly into her computer terminal. "Hmm, it looks like you don't have an account with us yet, sir," she said politely. She glanced up at him. "Would you like to start one?"

Megamind was busy watching Minion play with the sample cell phones around the perimeter of the store. His fishy friend was currently poking madly at a tiny keyboard, his robotic fingers mashing about a third of the keys at with each poke. Megamind thought he heard some muffled curses.

"Sir?" the cashier prompted.

"Oh, uh, yes, sure, whatever," Megamind muttered.

The woman typed a few more words. "Alright, then, what services would you like with your plan?"

"Talking," he replied distractedly, still fidgeting with his cape.

She hid a smile. "Of course. And what about texting or Internet services?"

"Ah, yes! Definitely texting!" Megamind said, eyes suddenly wide and attentive. Roxanne had always preferred to text during work hours. Or at least she'd preferred to text Bernard during work hours. His shoulders drooped a little at that unpleasant thought.

After paying the cashier, he snatched the new phone off the counter and dragged Minion out of the store, away from the curious townspeople.

Roxanne's phone jangled loudly, jolting her awake. She glanced at the clock in confusion, wondering when she'd fallen asleep, and realized that she'd dozed for about an hour. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she picked up the phone. "Hello?"

A familiar voice greeted her. "Ollo?"

"Who is this?" Roxanne asked, pretending not to know.

"It's me, Megamind," came the indignant answer. Was he holding the phone a foot away from his face?

Roxanne smirked. "I guess that means you got my note?"

"Of course," There was a pause. "So, how are you doing?" Megamind asked, a little too casually.

"I've…been better," she admitted. "Physically, I'm good, but work today was stressful."

"Oh?" Megamind prompted. Roxanne could tell he was trying to sound unconcerned, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Yeah," she said, reclining on the couch. "My coworkers all seem to think that I don't know how to take care of myself."

"Ah. Well, I'm glad to hear that you're doing…well." Another pause, and a couple of hissed whispers in the background. "And Minion says hello," he continued darkly, probably glaring at the fish for interrupting him.

Roxanne almost laughed at how awkward he sounded, but held it back. She figured she'd better get to the point. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Do you want to get coffee sometime?"

"Yes! Definitely!" Megamind replied quickly, excitement and—was that relief?—evident in his voice. "What time would be best for you?"

"Well, since today's Thursday, and I have work again tomorrow, how about Saturday morning? Say around eleven?" Roxanne had promised herself that she was going to sleep in at least one day this week. "There's a coffee shop around the corner from my place, if you want to meet me here."

"Sounds great!" said Megamind.

"See you then." Roxanne was still smiling a little as she hit the "end" button on her phone. Strangely, she wasn't feeling so down about work anymore.

"Minion! This is fantastic!" Megamind spun his chair around, barely resisting the urge to burst out in evil laughter. That would slightly undermine his new heroic image. "Roxanne wants to hang around with me!"

Minion's voice echoed from the next room. "I believe the term is 'hang out,' sir. But that's great news!"

Megamind ignored the first comment. He felt like he could conquer the world, or maybe invent a new missile-launcher—no, that wouldn't be very heroic either. Maybe a new kind of plasma shield. For…protecting things. He tossed his new phone over his shoulder onto the desk, where a brain-bot snatched it up with a metallic yip. "We're going for coffee on Saturday," Megamind continued happily, kicking his desk to spin the chair around again.

"That sounds like fun." Minion shook flour off his robotic hands as he stepped into the room. "By the way, I'm making chocolate-chip pancakes for dinner. Your favorite."

His boss tilted his head back over the side of the still-spinning chair. "Fantastic!" he exclaimed.

"Have you decided what you're going to wear for your date, sir?" Minion asked. He wasn't sure how well the black and blue bodysuit (let alone the white cape) would go over in a coffee shop.

Megamind sat up too quickly, the heel of his boot hitting the desk with a metallic clang. "What do you mean, Minion?"

The fish hemmed and hawed. "Well, you know, your regular spikes-and-leather outfit might be a bit...intimidating for everyday wear."

The green eyes widened, remembering the cell phone store. "Of course, Minion, you're right! How could I have overlooked that? Ugh, I'm so unprepared. Whatever would Roxanne think of me now?" Megamind drooped woefully back into his chair.

Minion crossed his arms. "May I suggest going shopping, sir? I'm sure we could find a few websites to help us decide what to buy." And while they were at it, he could maybe sneak a few upgrades to his gorilla suit into their shopping cart. He could use a mixing attachment.

"Are you kidding? A robotic fish and a reforming supervillain, just prancing up to the mall?" Megamind raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Have you forgotten that we tried to blow it up last year?"

"Well, no," Minion admitted. It hadn't been one of their proudest moments. They'd nearly set a world record for "shortest time to superhero intervention." "But you're a changed man now, sir. Maybe they'd let us in."

"Perhaps," Megamind said, unconvinced. "Well, the worst they can do to us is throw us back in jail, I suppose."

"Which wouldn't be so bad." Minion flapped his fins and grinned. "It's not like that was ever a problem before."

"You have a point. Plus we could wear the watches just in case." A crafty gleam lit Megamind's eyes. "Might need to make some adjustments to...Ah! I only have fifty-two hours to plan everything." He hopped to his feet, melancholy forgotten. "Better get started. Brain-bots! Come to Daddy!" Megamind snapped his fingers. "Mood music, Minion!"

Electric guitar chords and the zapping barks of brain-bots echoed throughout the lair as they worked late into the night.

Thanks again for reading; any feedback would be greatly appreciated! :)