Notes: Alright folks... So I know that FBHE is finished, but I had originally written the last chapter from Roxanne's POV as a sort of.. switch up. However, when I polled people over on the Megamind Comm, the resounding consensus was that I had started with Megs, and I should end with Megs. Everyone liked his point of view and wanted to finish the story off with him. So, I went back and changed the whole chapter to be his view. That being said... there were still a lot of people interested in reading Roxanne's Chapter. Either that, or they wanted the continuation of the FBHE storyline to be from her perspective entirely. I am undecided about that, as I feel the next story is best told from Megs (plus I just find him easier to write... Roxanne is complicated) so I figured I'd at least satisfy people by giving you Roxanne's old chapter.

Forgive me for how awful this chapter is... You can see why I like writing Megs better. All of the dialogue from the 'Scaffolding' scene is the exact same. And so are some of the paragraphs and descriptors. Remember: I took this chapter and just rewrote it from his perspective. Some of the actions remained the same because I liked how they were written. I changed the ending to this chapter as well when I re-wrote it, so you won't see the whole dialogue about them re-doing their dates. It felt.. too rushed when I did it from Roxanne's perspective. Megs, it just seemed to flow a little more smoothly post-kiss. But given how much indecision I had Rox go through during her side of the story, prancing off to go have some dates seemed pretty far fetched.

So, the TL;DR version of that rant: This is the last chapter I originally wrote for Roxanne. No longer applies. Story ended differently. Still wanted to share. It's huge because I never editted it down. Enjoy, sort of...

Disclaimer: 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by Dreamworks. I own nothing.

Falling Before Her Eyes

ALTERNATE ENDING - ROXANNE'S POV:

If you asked Roxanne Ritchi at three years old what her life would be like when she grew up, she would have said it was going to be magical. Because she was going to grow up to be a Unicorn.

By four years old, the answer would have changed to at least be within the proper species. She'd be a princess, with lots of fancy dresses and a handsome prince. And she'd be able to communicate with animals through song. Unattainable, but still better than a mythical horse.

At ten years old, Roxanne had decided on being a doctor. She was going to heal the sick, and help the injured. A worthy goal, most definitely, and one that stuck longer than unicorn or princess. That is until her freshman year of high school when she stared at her first failing grade on a biology assignment.

She nixed that idea pretty quickly.

By University, she'd decided her future would be in Psychology. She would be Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting. She'd be Jeff Bridges in K-Pax. She could still help others, like a doctor. She'd just start with their brains.

That is, if her own didn't turn to mush first.

Psychology courses in University were torturous. She hated them in every way possible, and would lay her head on the desk in front of her, in a crowded room of nearly four hundred students, praying for the three hours to pass faster. Professors would drone on about Bowlby. Erikson. Freud.

OHHHH Freud, how she loathed the cigar smoking bastard. Go screw yourself Freud. Take your id, ego, and super ego and shove it where the sun don't shine.

She'd just begin to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, and then the idea would fade to a black empty hole, mocking her with its openness. She was still no closer to finding her purpose. How could she still not know what she wanted to do with her life? Who she wanted to be?

Then, by chance, she'd taken a part-time job helping to host a crummy, campus TV show about events happening at the University.

For her, it had started as just a way to pay for her expensive shoe habit without getting a 'real' job while taking classes. But when she'd been handed her first microphone, she stared at the thing in her hand as an epiphany bloomed to life within her. When a camera lit to life in front of her, and she was interviewing a model at the charity fashion show, or reporting on recent budget cuts for the student activity fund, or describing the renovations to the main Student Center Building, she felt whole.

It just clicked. It felt right. She was confident, spunky, a gleam in her eyes and a skip in her step. She was all powerful in front of that camera. She could do anything.

She was going to be a reporter. A news anchor. She was going to help people and right those wrongs by reporting on them, and investigating the real issues. She would change the world, one story at a time.

Walter Cronkite and Barbara Walters became like rock stars to her.

So, just to reiterate again: Unicorn. Princess. Doctor. Psychologist. Reporter.

Now, did you see anywhere in that little blurb that Roxanne Ritchi had wanted to be a hostage? Or a super hero's arm candy? How about being a pawn between two aliens in a pissing match for power over Metro City? Did you see anything being tied to a giant building?

No you most certainly did not. Bet it never even crossed your mind. It certainly had never crossed hers.

One day, Roxanne was happy in living her life as one of the top reporters for KMCP, Channel 8. The next, she was thrown into a world of laser beams, evil plots, super heroes, capes, and kidnappings.

And now? God, how did she even begin to explain the rollercoaster ride that had led to this moment?

The Cole's Notes version was this: Megamind, that giant blue headed bumbling evil villain that he was, had been kidnapping her for years. Always the same shtick. Knock her out, tie her up, witty banter back and forth and then call Metro Man to come and save her. They'd fight, Megamind would lose, and get taken to jail. Then Roxanne was free to go on her way.

But one day, it didn't happen like that. In fact, it went entirely wrong.

Megamind defeated Metro Man, took over the city, and then apparently got bored. So he created a new super hero to fill the void left by Metro Man's death. Roxanne tried to find a way to stop Megamind, and he ended up using a disguise and for some reason (which she still hadn't fully worked out), began to romance Roxanne. Until the day she dumped him because the disguise failed and she realized she was kissing a blue alien. Then the new super hero, who ended up being her camera man Hal Stewart, became evil when she turned him down as well. Megamind had to become good in order to defeat him, and Roxanne and Megamind teamed up to find out Metro Man was alive and not willing to help, and Megamind ran away because he was a cowardly asshole, so Roxanne tried to reason with Hal, or Titan as he was calling himself, and she ended up getting kidnapped AGAIN, and FINALLY Megamind grew a pair and came to rescue her...

All you should really get from the story were these key points; Metro Man was alive, but in hiding as he wanted to retire from being a super hero. Roxanne had an uncanny ability to attract the STRANGEST men in the world, and apparently being dumped by her was motivation enough to destroy an entire city. Megamind had reformed, and was no longer to be considered an evil super villain.

Although, on a side note, he was still an asshole for the whole 'Hey I'm dating you but I'm really in disguise' thing.

Oh, and one more thing.

Megamind had just defeated Titan, risking his own life to protect a city and one female reporter who had rejected him since the day he came into their world.

And now, injuries and all, he was attempting to drive back toward the lair in the invisible car, looking considerably worse for wear after his battle with Titan.

In actual fact, he looked horrible. His pale blue skin was even paler than normal, marred considerably by dirt, and blackened streaks of soot. Brilliant, painful burns cut across his skin at different intervals, turning swollen and blackened red where Titan's laser vision had caught him. Crimson tinged his lips, a small line of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth while a wicked gash was openly bleeding down the back of his sizeable cranium, the trail disappearing down the collar of his suit. His costume, all tight black material and spikes and boots, was shredded beyond recognition, the fabric torn apart or road-rashed into a fraying mess. His breathing was uneven and wheezing, and one eye was beginning to swell over with dark bruising.

Still, despite all this, Roxanne had needed to struggle to keep up with him as the new hero moved to the invisible car, now missing a door on the driver's side due to the battle. He'd sighed and slipped in, waiting for her to move around to the other side where she slid in the already opened door as well. Without much warning, he turned on the engine and they were off at a less than safe speed, weaving through the destroyed streets and around civilians.

Roxanne had no real clue what to say to Megamind once they were alone in that cabin.

It could be expected. Their relationship at present was a tumultuous one. In essence, any feelings they had for one another were based on a lie. They were all forged from dates she had shared with 'Bernard', and for her to transfer those emotions automatically over to Megamind? Well, it was easier said than done.

After discovering the ruse the night before, Roxanne had been heartbroken. She'd felt the world spinning crazily around her, the floor simply opening and swallowing her up in one bite. And she'd reacted as anyone would have; she ran.

She ran from the restaurant, feeling like her throat was closing as tears blurred her vision. Looking up to the night sky, she saw rain droplets falling to hit her skin, and a small sob had escaped her lips.

Just her luck. All in one night, she found out that her camera man Hal was actually a super hero, and he was terribly angry that she didn't love him and so he'd left her on the roof of Metro City Tower. She'd had to climb down, nearly pissing herself with fear from the height and wild wind whipping at her heels and dress, only to get to her date with Bernard late. Then, while sharing their first kiss which sent electricity and fire singing in her veins, she'd opened her eyes to stare at blue skin and a startling high forehead.

Bernard was Megamind. And she was kissing him.

And now? she'd thought. Now it was raining.

Did God hate her? Was she some evil tyrant in a past life? Was she paying for bad Karma from her past?

It didn't matter why it was happening, really. The point was that it had. And she just needed to escape.

But he'd followed her, begging her with Bernard's eyes and Bernard's voice, and Bernard's gestures to let him explain. She'd punched him in a blind fury, for daring to mock her like that by rubbing it in her face that everything she had loved in Bernard was actually his.

His laugh. His sweet sincerity. His eagerness. His emotional past and the wounded, sometimes frightened look he gave her, followed shortly by that glimmer of hopefulness. The affectionate way he stared at her. Adoring. Worshipping. Completely enamoured. Like she was the only person in the world.

And those green eyes...

Why hadn't she noticed how similar they were to Megamind's? Why hadn't she made the connection?

Because she never would have suspected it was him, lurking behind that hologram watch on his arm, disguising himself. And for what purpose?

She'd asked him that when he'd followed her still, trying to speak with her, imploring her to listen. She hadn't listened much during that time, but instead had doggedly attacked him with questions. But that last question had turned his expression into one of miserable surrender.

He'd been staring down, with rain slicking down his bald head and turning the dark brows and goatee on his face shiny with moisture. Then, he'd flicked those emerald eyes up to her, and slowly raised his head, lip trembling slightly. And she'd seen it all on his face, clear as day.

He loved her.

She'd denied it. Stepped back as if in fear, as if to ward away his feelings. She felt sick. She felt dirty. Her mouth, where he'd kissed her, was like ice.

He loved her.

Oh god, why did he love her? Why was he looking at her with those heartbroken eyes? Bernard's eyes.

She walked away from him that night, with a biting remark echoing in the empty street around them.

Did you really think I'd ever be with you?

"No," he'd answered, and the truthful crushing way he'd said it had made her turn back at the last second, to watch him turn and walk, head bowed, into the street.

He loved her.

She'd gone home that night and sat in her shower, clothes still on, bawling into her hands loudly. She cried for losing Bernard. For caring for him and then realising he never existed. She cried for the injustice that a kind, gentle, good soul like his had been snuffed out. Then she cried for the fact that all of those qualities were just an act by Megamind. She cried because there were people in this world as cruel as him that would do something like that.

Then she cried because she'd fallen for it. And she didn't know what that made her.

But in the invisible car, in the here and now, that time seemed like days away. Weeks even. And the silence was driving her insane, as they sat side by side in the racing vehicle, watching the world whiz by.

The emptiness of the quiet was suffocating.

So she replaced it with her voice. She babbled and chattered and kept talking to try and suffuse the rippling anxiety that began to fill her as the stress of the day settled in.

God had it only been yesterday that this all started?

She talked incessantly about the legal issues she had discussed with the Mayor before they had left the city center. She talked about restoring the city. The meeting they'd have the next day with city officials in order to discuss his future. All her questions about how they'd handle the whole Metro Man fiasco. Did they tell the world? Keep it secret? Did he know how hard it would be to spin this situation if the city still thought he had killed Metro Man? They really needed to talk to Wayne Scott. But would he even still be in the underground lair they had found?

A part of her wished he'd shut her up, because she wasn't sure she could do the job herself.

It was a nervous habit, to ramble such as this whenever her stomach flip-flopped with stress, and the adrenaline rush left her shaking with pent up energy. She imagined it was what he felt like constantly, given how he always seemed to be bouncing off the walls.

She half expected him to join her in her lengthy dialogue, but when she glanced his way, she realized the reason for his stony silence and that shut her up pretty quickly.

He was obviously succumbing to his injuries. Dark circles lined his eyes and he seemed to be struggling to keep them open. His grip on the steering wheel in front of him, which wasn't even a full wheel when she analysed it closer, was white knuckled and he was bent precariously forward so his large head almost hit the dashboard. He was bleeding head to toe, and small shivers kept running through him.

When she meekly said his name, he gave a half startled grunt, attempted to sit up, and then gave a gasp of pain, wincing all the while jerking the steering wheel so she practically fell into him across the mess of dials and levers between the two front seats. The car barely managed to avoid a fire hydrant, mounted the curb, then clattered back onto the road again once he regained control.

She said his name more loudly now, and he managed to look over at her with a grimace.

"Megamind... pull over," she commanded, fear skittering through her veins.

He attempted some words that didn't quite make it past his lips, but a little blood sure did. Thankfully, when she nervously peered out the front of the car, she saw the same old factory warehouse, fake observatory perched on top, which she knew was the lair coming on the horizon. They exited the city limits, turned sharply onto the road that led to the building and headed straight for it.

Megamind muttered a thankful sigh of relief in the form of a few expletives, pulled the car through the holographic wall (which made Roxanne scream thinking they were about to crash into solid brick), and then slammed the vehicle into park harder than anticipated by pulling the emergency brake. The thing squealed, shuddered, and the engine died out in protest when he fumbled to turn it off in some way, which evidently was the wrong way, but he still groaned his appreciation and tried to lean back in exhaustion.

However, the front seat seemed to lack any backing to it, so he simply collapsed into the back with a whimper of pain, his spine bent painfully.

"Oh God," she muttered in panic, scrambling to get out of the car and rush around to the door-less driver's side, reaching in and pulling him upright while he massive head hung back lazily. She got him to tip forward, dragged his lanky thin legs out of a seated position and swivelled him so he leaned out of the car. Then she grabbed his face and patted his angular cheeks incessantly until his eyes fluttered open.

"Wake up. Come on you crazy bastard, wake up!" she commanded and he gave another unintelligent grunt in reply, and then smiled at her, eyes half lidded and his grin lopsided.

"Hello Miss Ritchi," he cooed, as if he were drunk. "Lovely to see you. Did you know I was a hero?" he asked, brightening a little before his head tipped forward to land on her shoulder, his mouth slightly open, eyes closed. His body slumped and she struggled to support his weight.

She didn't have time to figure out why his body worked the way it did, or how he had managed to postpone this reaction until they were safely back at the lair. All she knew was that she needed to find a way to help him. And she sure as hell didn't have enough medical know-how to do anything, let alone any understanding of alien physiology. But there was someone who did.

"Megamind, you need to stay awake for me, ok?" she grunted again, shaking him until his eyes popped open, their normal brightness looking dim. She then pawed along his belt awkwardly, finding the pocket where two iridescent cubes were and pulled them out. "We need to get Minion back."

Shortly before leaving the fountain at the center of downtown, where the battle had taken place, Megamind had used his glowing blue gun to de-hydrate both Minion, his talking fish companion, as well as the broken suit that Minion normally would have lived in. Damaged beyond any repair that could be done on the spot, the mastermind had encapsulated the space-fish in the glowing cube of energy in order to transport him back to the lair without the water that the creature needed to survive.

Seeing the cube, Megamind went a bit cross eyed to stare at its glowing blue light, a lazy smile capturing his lips.

"Pretty," he purred and then made another swooning motion before falling against her.

Roxanne caught him, dragged a scrawny arm over her shoulder, and then stood, supporting him. He didn't make any comment about it, and leaned against her heavily, his large head pressed against hers.

Then, a familiar sound reached her ears.

Bowg Bowg Bowg.

Just what she needed. To get torn apart by one of Megamind's artificially intelligent inventions for bringing home a very injured ex-villain, with no one to explain she wasn't the one who caused the damage.

The Brain-Bots appeared, a swarm of eight or nine at first, but then more came into view. They spotted the pair, stopped dead in their tracks, and then exchanged nervous looks among themselves if it could be called that.

Roxanne swallowed nervously.

The Brain-Bots were Megamind's most recognizable creation. Metallic, floating sentient robots with the personality of dogs, they followed him everywhere and did much of his work for him. They were made of a single Plasma Ball, like the ones used to teach children about static electricity, with a menacing sharp toothed jaw affixed, and long spindling pincer like arms beneath the glowing and sparking shell. One long stalk of flexible material led up to a glowing red optic eye that snaked around to take in its surroundings, and Roxanne currently had about a dozen of them focussed directly on her.

"Um... Your... Daddy, he's hurt. I need help. Minion is here," she offered cautiously, not entirely sure if they'd understand when she struggled to hold Megamind and offer the cubes forward. They had always been somewhat cautious around her. Interested, curious, but never out right destructive. More often then not, they turned on their master and bit him out of disobedience, but she wasn't sure how their computer-brains would handle the sight of Megamind's prone form draped over her, obviously in distress.

She nearly dropped both of her burdens when the robots bounded forward, their chorus of electronic noises sounding delighted, before they looked at the cubes curiously. They then grabbed the cubes and flew off, others reaching their pincers forward to grab Megamind off of her, hefting him up by his arms and carrying him toward a chair.

They all but ignored her while she stood in stunned silence, watching as the bots assisted their master, while the others tore a tarp off of an old, and dusty robotic machine that looked something like Minion's suit, but smaller.

The fur was gone, but blue and black paint covered the contraption, with matching lightning bolts covering a barrel like body frame. The top still held a domed tank that the Brain-Bots were busy unscrewing, and filling with water.

A spare body. Naturally, Megamind would have one of those laying around for this companion.

Plop, went one of the cubes as they dropped it gently into the water, and a bright flash of iridescent bubbles produced Minion's smiling face.

He blinked once, then twice, gave a sharp turn in his tank and a few deep 'breathes' of water before looking at Roxanne, then Megamind all the while gasping, his fins all a-flutter.

"Miss Ritchi? Sir! You don't look well at all!" he stated, and then the hands of the robot flexed and gripped. Its shoulders gave an experimental shimmy, and a spark of bright electricity zinged between two prongs that stood up along the back of the tank.

Megamind, eyes open for the moment, gave a half thankful smile before promptly tipping forward, and Minion's now thinner metal arms shot out to catch him from across the room, like a grappling hook. He bridged the gap between them with thundering steps.

"Code: I'm going to faint now," Megamind murmured sleepily and then did just that, going entirely limp with his head falling forward.

Roxanne gasped. Minion squeaked, and then they looked at each other unsurely. Then Minion seemed to gather himself and slip into a familiar role, assuring her that he had everything under control.

And she was left with empty hands, and nothing to do.

So she hovered, and worried and babbled on and on, pacing the floor and trying not to think about the fact that she was so anxious about a man she shouldn't have feelings for. That she was in the very place that once had been considered her nightmare, a place of fear and hostage situations. That she was transformed from the normal confident Roxanne Ritchi into a blubbering female at the bedside of her... of her what? Certainly not lover. Not boyfriend either. Friend even seemed odd.

God, why was everything so confusing and uncomfortable? She just wanted things to go back to the way they were. She wanted back the old black and white of their relationship, instead of this grey area.

And apparently she wasn't the only one, based on how Minion kept gently, but forcefully, trying to bat her hands away whenever she tried to offer her aid, or reach for a piece of gauze he might need.

He did not want her there. He was polite, but obviously uncomfortable, and kept glancing at her over his shoulder, eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds, before the pleasant smile wiped away any evidence of his anxiety.

He didn't trust her there, in the lair, watching him work. Roxanne didn't blame him.

She turned away when he explained he needed to undress Megamind in order to ascertain the extent of his injuries. It was a subtle way of giving her a reason to excuse herself from the room and she took it.

Practically running like her life depended on it, Roxanne put distance between herself and the pair, feigning interest in some of the machines lining the floor, but Minion called over with a nervous voice that she shouldn't touch anything.

Rebuffed, she went to walk up and down a line of long metal tables with Bunsen burners and vials of different coloured liquids bubbling away, but when her fingers reached out to tap at one bulbous container, a Brain-Bot flew out of nowhere, claws extended and optic eye fiery red.

Retreating away again, she nervously wandered the vast warehouse, chills running up and down her spine, trying to find some place she felt comfortable. Somewhere. Anywhere. But every way she turned, a Brain-Bot was shooing her away, a siren went off, or signs and warnings flashed from every angle at her.

Maybe she should leave. Just forget this crazy idea of sticking around until Megamind was well again, and just get out. Her heart was pounding from things jumping out at her, and the potential dangers around every corner. Hadn't she walked through this lair weeks before with such confidence, not a note of fear? And now, all she wanted was to escape.

She spied a door with a large glowing 'Exit' sign over its frame and as she approached it with something like relief, she stopped with her fingers brushing the handle.

Was that... Disco music?

She recoiled in a panic, scrambling away from the dreaded door that held alligators and thumping BeeGee's beats, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Not again! She'd fallen once, inches from gnashing teeth and brilliant mirrored strobe lights. She was not interested in trying that again, especially with no Bernard to save her.

But no, that hadn't been Bernard. It had been Megamind. Pretending to fight with himself. Running to save her from falling to her death. Throwing a stick of dynamite to destroy his own creations behind them. Hugging her with a look of rapture and delight on his face.

She had called him her partner.

She took one step back from the door. Then another. Then she spun quickly, her pink slippers sliding on the floor beneath her while she scrambled to get away.

Running somewhat blindly back through a slim corridor among heaters and ducts, Roxanne tried to get a grip on herself, placing her hand against the side of a large machine for support when she stopped. It shuddered and almost began to tip over, so she pulled back from it with a jerk, stumbled back into another thing beneath a tarp that light up and made a terrible 'zap' noise. Giving a cry of shock, she recoiled yet again, turned quickly to flee and came face to face with the barrel of a machine-gun like weapon attached to a towering mechanical vehicle.

She screamed, but slapped a hand over her mouth to quiet the noise.

Was everything in this building dangerous and terrifying?

Dumb question. It was an evil lair.

Heart pounding in her chest, Roxanne decided then and there to find the real exit and leave. She had been wrong in inviting herself here. She had no place among all these inventions, Brain-Bots and talking fish. She had no place in Megamind's world.

She had to leave.

No matter how much the idea of leaving made her uneasy, especially when she didn't know if Megamind was alright.

And yet, that made her want to leave all the more, running from the emotional attachment that was growing.

Her feet were already pounding on the cement, running aimlessly toward where she thought they had entered the lair from. Down this corridor? Around that machine? Through those giant curtains? Why did this place seem so vast all of a sudden?

One of her damn slippers snapped on her foot and she stumbled, trying to jam her toes back into its pink embrace. But she had already lost her balance, and she fell forward with a gasp, extending her arms out for something to catch her fall.

Metal collided with her palms and she gripped it, praying it wouldn't be some sort of knife covered robot, because Megamind would definitely be the person to build something like that. But when no pain came, she dared to open her eyes and stare at the grated floor and hand rails of a lift elevator.

An elevator? She instinctively looked up to see where it might lead to.

A quiet kind of calm embraced her as she spotted the rectangular gap in the ceiling that lead up toward the next floor of the once-factory filled building. Up toward the roof, where a certain structure had been erected.

She found herself moving without thought, cautiously stepping aboard the metal lift with eyes always skyward.

Her fingers found the rounded top of the lever that operated the lift, and she sent a glance over her shoulder, and then hesitated.

She pushed the stick forward.

Up it clattered, lifting her up from the warehouse floor and into the part of the lair she knew. The part of the lair specifically made to showcase her.

The lights flickered to life as the lift came to a halt, and she breathed out a slow sigh.

Her chair sat alone in the center of the room, tipped to its side, ropes still hanging limp around its rungs. The Tesla coils flickered and crackled, the dials flashed and beeped, and the monitors shone with charts and bars and numbers.

It was a symphony of comfort, and a glow of calm. She felt her muscles relax, her mind clear and her heart beat slow with relief.

How sick was that? The very room she awoke in, bag pulled from her head, disgruntled from noxious gas sprayed in her face, was the one place she felt comfortable.

In a way, it made sense. Their whole relationship, between herself and Megamind, had been held here, or at least in places similar. Lairs. Factories. Like movie sets, ready for their back and forth banter. A stage where he could reveal her as his captive to the world, and to Metro Man. It was a place where they each had roles, and they stuck to them. They had scripts and characters. It was when they started ad libbing that it all turned pear-shaped. They'd deviated from the act.

She walked forward, under the bare bulb that hung ominously at the center of the room, and stared down at the chair and ropes at its center. Using the toe of her slipper, she nudged the coil of material that normally held her in place on the straight backed chair.

She could practically hear the water under the floor where his alligators were held.

Roxanne heaved a slow sigh, wrapping her arms around herself as she gazed around the cold room. The only warmth that seemed to radiate within this world of metal and electronics was the sun peering in through the opening of the fake observatory, sending a slanting plane of golden red across the floor to end at her feet.

Imagine living in a place like this. Cold, sterile, filled with machines and rust and dank air. She longed for her warm apartment, in hues of rich browns and reds. It always felt so safe there. Comforting. Like being wrapped in a blanket, cocooned on her sectional couch, staring out the floor to ceiling windows out over the cityscape.

She could see the same city line on the horizon, just from a different angle across the bay. Moving to stand in the opening of the observatory walls, she leaned against the wall and worried her lower lip under her teeth.

She and Megamind lived in the same Metro City, but they saw it from two impossibly different perspectives. The difference between their chosen dwellings was as big an indicator of that as the difference in their physiology. How could their two worlds ever collide and expect to somehow mesh together? It wasn't like she could run around and spruce up the ol' lair with some flowers, a few paintings, maybe some scented votive candles on the drafting table and a couple throw pillows on the work benches. There was no way she could even begin to feel comfortable in his world, and he'd feel even more like an alien in hers. Even having him once in her apartment, fluttering around like a hyper-active hummingbird while begging her to help him defeat Titan, he had been a foreign man in a foreign land of carpets and home decor.

Could she ever imagine him reclining on her sofa, relaxing and watching the evening news? Could she imagine herself, comfortably marching into the factory below and hanging out for an afternoon?

And why was she even entertaining the idea of trying to make something out of their relationship?

And when had she started thinking of them as HAVING a relationship?

She attempted to sort through the complex medley of thoughts in her head while she watched the sun sink down toward the horizon, the colours highlighted against a sky dark with clouds of smog and destruction left in the wake of Titan's attacks on the city.

No matter how long she tried to make her riotous thoughts take some form of logic, a burst of fresh emotion took over.

This was impossible, Logic would say, huffy and indignant. She needed to just leave.

But Emotion countered with concern. What if Megamind needed her? He'd just risked his life in protecting her and the whole city. The least she could do was to stay and make sure he was alright.

Why would he need her? Logic scoffed at the idea. She was nothing to him.

But she knew that wasn't true, Emotion reminded wisely. He'd basically admitted to being in love with her.

Well, that's all well and good, Logic fired back coldly, but she had no feelings for him whatsoever.

Then why are you still here? Emotion asked in a quiet voice, leaving Roxanne feeling chilled and worried.

Only when she heard the jittery clacking rumble of the elevator making its ways back up to rooftop did she turn around, so caught up in her own internal argument.

The man in question was there, bandaged, bruised, and looking equally as confused and terrified as she felt.

Megamind stood on the platform of the lift elevator, his free arm that wasn't wrapped in a sling and secured to his side gripping tightly on the railing while he peered around himself. The contrast of his bright blue fingers, flush against the metal was shocking at first and she tried to understand why.

He wasn't wearing gloves. No gloves, no spikes, no high collar and long cape. Just a softer grey material suit that left his collar bone and neck bare, hands uncovered. He still wore the tight fitting pants and the studded, flared boots. But other than that, he almost looked... normal. She'd never seen him so under dressed.

It made her voice catch in her throat when she finally spoke after sensing that he hadn't seen her, hidden as she was by the glare of the sun.

"How are you?" she asked, and he jumped nearly a foot, squeaking out in the way he normally did when shocked. She'd seen it so many times with Metro Man that it brought a sliver of a smile to her face. It seemed familiar. Like how they should be acting in this room, as villain and kidnap victim. But it wasn't Metro Man that had him on edge. It was her.

"How are you?" she repeated again when he didn't respond and instead seemed to be stuck between a fight or flight decision, one hand poised over the controls of the elevator while he chest expanded and contracted like a wounded bird's. She moved forward a bit to step into the light.

"Fine!" he squeaked. She raised an eyebrow and let her gaze roam pointedly over him. "Ah, I mean, better? Yes. Better. Scrapes and bruises. You know. The usual."

"That's good, I guess. And Minion?" she asked, not sure what else to talk about. He fidgeted in his spot, eyes darting around the room.

"Minion? Oh he's fine. His suit will be fixed in no time, and he's got the spare for now. So. Yea. Everyone's fine. I mean, are you fine?"He winced as he asked the question, belated, clearly uneasy.

"Yes, I'm fine."She managed a little smile at his bumbling. At least she wasn't the only one in a panic. It helped that he was worse off and seemed to have trouble controlling the volume and pitch of his words. It made her seem stoic and calm in comparison.

"GOOD!" he almost shouted, before lowering his volume again with a clearing of his throat. "Good. Great. Everyone's fine. Honky-dorey even. Everything and everyone is fine."

He was babbling.

"Are you nervous?" she asked softly, tilting her head to the side and taking another step closer, but moving slowly like he was an animal that might spook too easily and jump off again into the brush. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed noisily, pupils dilating as she approached.

"Nervous? NOPE," he began bravely, a high, giddy laugh escaping his throat. He coughed once, looked down, then glanced at her from the side. Then he seemed to deflate, slumping his shoulders with a frown. "Well... Ok, yes. I am."

She couldn't help but smile at the admission, at the crestfallen way he muttered it out the side of his mouth. He must have noticed her grin because his brow wrinkled with a frown.

"I'm glad I amuse you," he retorted sharply and this garnered a little laugh from her.

"Look, it's ok," she soothed and motioned for him to move forward. Reluctantly, he complied. But his expression turned deadpan.

"I don't really agree with that assessment, Miss Ritchi. I'd say it feels significantly more awkward than I had hoped it would," he countered, wrinkling his nose in distaste. Roxanne gave a slow nod in acknowledgement, but still smiled ruefully.

"Given the circumstances, I'd say it's appropriately awkward."

Silence reigned for a time while they stood together near the center of the room. A machine beeped softly in the background.

"Thank you, for helping back there," he stated in a mechanical sounding voice. He frowned around the words, as if he wasn't used to saying the words to anyone. She smiled, remembering the relief that had flooded her system once she saw the invisible car and had pointed it out for him during his battle.

Then she felt that weird feeling again, recalling the fear and concern she'd felt for the blue alien the entire time.

"Thank you for saving me," she said quickly, pushing the thoughts out of her head. "And the city. That was an amazing plan."

"You think so?" he lit up happily. "Yes! Yes it was, wasn't it! Despite some... terrible... disastrous... nearly fatal set backs... It was one of my best plans!" he trailed off, part way through, his good hand tapping a finger to his chin in thought before ending on a high note, beaming at her proudly. She couldn't help but smile back at him.

She made a motion with her head toward the opened bay doors, already turning to head that way herself, and he followed.

"Except for the whole 'Metrocity' slip up," she retorted over her shoulder with a good natured smile. They exited out of the observatory built as a diversion on top of the old factory building, the sun brilliant as it touched on the water of the bay before steadily slipping down as the sunset sped swiftly by. Roxanne climbed up onto the scaffolding at their side, offering him a hand once she stood atop the wooden board and metal made support.

"Please, don't remind me," he grumbled, refusing her help while using his good arm to pull himself up with a grunt. She pretended not to notice the pained way he moved, and how he seemed to need an extra moment to breath after the slight exertion. Titan had really done a number on him, and she struggled to reign in the renewed sense of concern that muscled Logic out of the way again.

"I didn't know if you'd come," she said softly, reflecting on the day's events as she struggled to remember how it had all taken place. She laid her arms across the bar that stood at stomach height, bending down to rest against it while watching the sun sink down below the city line.

"After I saw you on TV, nothing could stop me," he replied, his voice soft and meek. Roxanne turned to him with some shock, a zing of feeling stabbing in her heart at the muted, truthful way he spoke.

"You saw that broadcast?" she asked, although she knew the answer already. "I wasn't sure if you'd seen it, or if you came on your own," she admitted, not sure which answer she would have preferred. It occurred to her that he must have seen the broadcast, since he came at the specified time to the Metro Tower. But then again, Megamind was always good at having the dumb luck that one only saw in movies.

He cringed a little, and avoided her gaze, but still replied.

"I'd like to hope I would have found the courage to break out of jail again to go and save you... But I'm not sure I would have done it in time, if I hadn't seen you like that." His grip on the railing of the scaffolding tightened, and he set his jaw in a stern, almost angry way. She watched his face in profile, wondering not for the first time just what was swimming through that massive head of his. Eventually, she just stared down at the bay.

"So what now?"

He didn't respond for what felt like ages, but simply clenched his jaw even more, making his lips turn into a firm blue line of concentration. His eyebrows were drawn down, turning his face into a scowl. Clearing her throat, Roxanne tried to let the silence go on for a while, giving him space to think. Time to brood. But it became too much and she broke the silence with his name.

He darted green eyes in her direction, sighed, and then scrubbed his free uninjured hand across his face, clearly exasperated.

"Megamind?" she asked softly at his side, bringing him back to their current conversation and he heaved a sigh that let practically all the air out of his body. He ran his hand over his brow again and back across his high scalp, before fixing her with a look.

"I guess I don't know what happens now. I'm out of my element when it comes to social interactions," he spoke, softly, raising his eyes to watch her closely. This seemed like an entirely different being than the one she was used to. The theatrics were gone. The boastful, self-assured over confidence had dissipated into someone almost normal. Like Bernard.

"Not exactly my forte either. We are kind of starting off on a bad foot," she mused, uncomfortable with him not being himself, and being unsure how to assimilate this new entity into her ideas about him. Then a novel idea hit her.

"Why don't we start from the beginning," she offered and she turned to stand directly in front of him so he stood straight lest she step on his outstretched legs. He raised one eyebrow while she stuck out her right hand.

"Hi. I'm Roxanne Ritchi."

"…Seriously?" he asked, staring at her offered hand with barely contained disdain.

"Just play along," she insisted, waggling her fingers at him insistently while he heaved a martyred sigh, frowning expressively. She made a jabbing motion with her hand again before raising both her brows purposefully.

"Fine," he groaned while tipping his head back in exasperation. He stuck his good hand out as well, lamely.

"Hello. My name is Megamind."

She hesitated as she grasped his hand and pumped it up and down. She felt her fingers slide against his skin; perhaps the first time ever she had wittingly felt him. Years of wearing gloves left the hands smooth, and his fingers were longer than her own, and slim in their proportions. The blue hue of his skin faded to an almost translucent cerulean around the junction of his digits, and the knuckles were tainted purple with bruising and perhaps natural colouring as well.

"Is that the only name you go by?" she asked while she paused, and he tore his hand away, examining it and flexing his fingers as if she might have done lasting damage to the appendage.

"I've been known to respond to Sir, Your Evilness, Prisoner, You There, and Oh No, It's Him."

"No, I mean like a name I can call you," she said, waving her hand to wipe away his sarcasm, wrinkling her nose in exasperation. "Megamind is kind of a mouth full. And I'm not calling you Sir."

"Um… I've never really needed a… short form," he muttered back in a reply, awkwardly, giving her a look that said he was clearly unsure of her motivation for finding him a new name.

"Can I call you… Mega?"

"No."

"I don't want to call you Mind…"

"Ew, no thanks."

"Meg?"

"That is a woman's name!"

"Ok, ok… I get it," Roxanne shook her head, eyes closed, and hands up in surrender before she began to pace back and forth. One hand on her hip, she used the other to tap a finger against her lip.

"Meg is a bit feminine. What about Megs?" she asked, stopping to look up at him which made him blink. He shook his head.

"…You added an 's' to the end of it, and suddenly it's masculine?"

"Look, I'm trying. How about just M?"

"M? I suppose that's alright."

"Oh can I call you M&M? Like the candy?" she suddenly gushed, eyes wide and excited, feigning joy at new nickname, sure that it would set him off.

"No. Definitely not," he blubbered, as if he didn't know where she got the audacity to even suggest such a thing. Attempting to inject a bit of humour into the moment, she playfully jabbed at his good arm, the way she had when she'd first called him partner. Or called Bernard partner.

Her stomach did an odd flip-flop.

"I'm just poking fun," she muttered softly, more to herself than anyone, but his sudden dark glare told her he was not in the mood for gaiety. Sighing loudly, she threw her arms up in defeat, slumping her shoulders to frown back at him. He was not making this any easier by having an attitude.

"Look, I was just trying to give us a fresh start," she snorted, suddenly angry and wrapping her arms around herself, looking back to the waters as the sky continued to darken, the setting sun taking the warmth with it.

"I know," Megamind muttered back with a dark pout, focussing on staring at the metal and wood facade of the fake observatory in front of him.

"This is weird Roxanne," he went on, shaking his head and suddenly looking ten years older, the day weighing on him heavily. "I don't know how to act. As Bernard, I could pretend it wasn't me. I could… laugh with you. Look at you. Touch you. And I could just pretend we didn't have this black cloud hanging over us. But now? I honestly don't know."

There it was again. This entirely alien (no pun intended) personality. The Megamind she knew never spoke so clearly. Never treaded into the emotional ground of life. His voice no longer had that exaggerated accent to it, where every word was a practice in diction. Like an actor, hamming it up for the crowds. Now his words were flat, spoken as any casual bystander might.

She paused for a moment, thoughtful as she came to stand beside him, leaning as he was, close so their shoulders brushed.

"It's funny… You're not Bernard, but you're not Megamind anymore either," she began, her voice barely over a whisper, carried away by the cold wind that picked up around them at their height.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped irritably. She tried not to cringe at his quick explosive outburst, at the way his shoulders straightened with pricked pride.

"It means things have changed… You made some bad choices, and most of them I can't even begin to understand. And I dislike you for a lot of them," Roxanne began softly, talking in order to sort out her feelings verbally. The words rolled out of her head and off her tongue while she stared down at her feet.

"You hurt people."

He looked away.

"You destroyed the city for your own pleasure."

He bit his lip.

"And you lied to me," she said, turning her head to lock gazes with him at her last sentence. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, eyes riveted to hers.

"But, I also got to see this other side of you that's good, caring and willing to give everything up to save others," she went on with a little smile, tilting her to the side in amusement. Then she set her hand against his forearm, gently, cautiously, and he looked down at where she made contact, then back at her while she spoke with earnest to him.

"You can't forget your past, because it's shaped who you are, but there's always the future to look forward to. Now, it's about moving forward and creating a new identity. Somewhere between Megamind and Bernard."

"So… an evil museum curator?" he offered helpfully, and she gave a short, snorting laugh in shock before trying to tramp down on her growing smile, working hard to look serious in the face of his comment.

"No. Use your smarts for good," she chuckled after succumbing to her amusement, reaching up to tap his temple gently with one finger.

"A novel idea Miss Ritchi. It doesn't solve this," he added, gesturing with his free hand to the space in between them both. She sighed at the reminder and went back to staring out over the water.

"What about us?" he pressed when she didn't respond.

He was putting her on the spot, prodding her to make decisions. His mind must be more powerful than her own. It felt as if he was already done pondering over the day's events, and was moving forward to the next step. The next idea. The next plan.

Roxanne, however, was still stuck just trying to remember if she'd even brushed her teeth this morning.

Turning on her heel, she began to pace with agitation, hating that she had to answer this question he was asking her, because in reality, she didn't have an answer. And that only made that growing empty feeling in her chest seem all the larger.

It seemed like such an unfair question to ask of her, so soon after his deception had been dropped and things were finally out on the table. She'd barely gotten it through her head that Metro Man was still alive. How could she possibly address this sort of thing, given the circumstances?

And why was it her responsibility to decide their fate? Hadn't she been the one wronged? The one who was lied to? The one hurt, deceived, and put directly in the line of danger because of his actions? Hadn't it been her life that hung in the balance? She was the one on the top of Metro Tower. She was the one taking Titan's wrath from the start.

And Megamind wanted her to tell him what she saw happening between the two of them?

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped at him, anger fuelling her to stomp back and forth along the wood panelling that supported them. Her hands shook so she squeezed them into fists. "That I forgive you? That we're dating now? That I love you and we're going to live happily ever after?"

Her fury died out when she saw his wide eyes, and the flush of purple and pink highlighting his face. He shifted his wounded arm in its sling, and the Roxanne let the air from her lungs seep past her lips in a slow, sad sigh.

He'd put himself physically in jeopardy just hours before, in order to save her. Put himself between her and Titan on several occasions. Came when she called for him. What did that say about him? She owed him at least... something. She didn't know what. But she tried to explain.

"Look, Mega- … M," she corrected, using his new name as a way of differentiating between now and the past. She took a steadying breath, regaining control once more, looking into his eyes. "I don't know what this is. I mean, just yesterday I thought I was dating Bernard."

"I figured as much," he replied, shrugging with one shoulder lamely, his voice quiet and sad. "I won't mince words Roxanne," he looked up at her, intensely. "I have feelings for you."

He said it so firmly, without any hesitation, that she looked away, biting her lower lip.

"Yea… I kind of picked up on that," she forced a smile onto her face, but it felt wooden and almost sad.

"I can't expect you to reciprocate," he shook his head, pushing away from the railing to walk closer to her. "But... do you... feel anything?"

"I feel… conflicted," she offered lamely, cringing at his closeness. He looked away.

"Not the word I was looking for," Megamind grumbled.

"Ok, I feel hurt because of the whole Bernard thing. I don't pretend to understand your whole motivation behind it, because even if you liked me, it doesn't mean you can just pretend to be someone and steal their identity to live out some fantasy," she ranted bitterly.

"No, it doesn't," he admitted, and she was again shocked he admitted to his wrongs so easily. The old Megamind would have denied his responsibility until the bitter end. He really was somewhere between Megamind and Bernard. Some new person entirely. She was growing to miss the old Megamind with each moment. But she also missed Bernard.

Her head ached at the paradox and she struggled to speak again, to make him understand.

"But, I really liked Bernard," she went on, trying to make connections to when she had been somewhat happy around him. Whether or not she knew it was him.

"I liked the person you were as Bernard. All fumbling and funny, and sweet… and so intelligent…" she went on, trailing off at the end while chancing a look up at him. She gave a lopsided smile, and he smiled back, weakly.

"How about… me? This me. The real me," he ventured, gesturing to himself.

And there was the crux of the problem. He wasn't Bernard now. And he never would be again. Even if he wore a disguise for the rest of their life together (IF there even would or could be a life they shared), she would know what was under the holographic projection. And the idea of walking around in the open with him, as he was now?

"You're… blue," she said after looking him up and down slowly.

"Yes, that has been established after many years of research."

She sighed, frowning at him.

"Well how do you expect me to react?" he blurted as his anger rose. "YES I'm blue. I know it, you know it, and everyone with fully functioning eyes knows it. That's all you have to say, is I'm blue?" he shouted at her, gesturing wildly with his free arm, and he cringed, wrapping his limb around his middle. She gave a gasp of concern, reaching forward, and he shot her an icy glare of pride that made her withdraw her hand back to her chest, lips turned into a pout.

"Ok, ok, I get it. Fine" she sighed, raking her hand back through her hair before breathing out to steady herself and then looking at him closely. The constant reminder of his sacrifice for her made guilt gnaw at her stomach, so she tried desperately to look at him and find something she could offer. She gave a snort of frustration.

"I don't know! It's hard to get over the obvious stuff like…"

"My head?" he asked, gesturing with a swirling motion to his cranium.

"Yea…" she said softly, guiltily. And then she looked away and avoided his gaze.

God, what was she doing? Trying to find something about him that she was attracted to? For what purpose? So she would feel less guilty that he'd saved her life, and she was getting ready to turn him down? She'd be leading him on, just as he led her on. It was an exercise in cruelty, but neither of them could seem to stop it. To admit that their attempts to talk things through were perhaps futile.

There could, and never would be anything between them. She just didn't feel it when she looked at his slim, blue face.

Then why had she felt the need to stay and wait to see if he was alright?

"This is never going to work is it?" he said softly, sadly.

"Give me a break. You're an alien," she spat back at him, the words flying from her lips as she grew angry with herself, the situation and his insistence that they sort this out now. She wanted to go home. Have a shower. Eat some ice cream. Then go to bed.

Not discuss whether or not she found a blue alien who had once been her kidnapper, attractive.

"Queen of Obvious Statements today, aren't we?"

"Shut up!" she shouted, stamping her foot. He shut his mouth tightly, but his eyes remained angry. Stubborn.

He wasn't going to let this go until she gave him and definitive answer. No shower, ice cream or bed until she answered the questions: Did they have a future? Could they go back to the way they'd been together as Roxanne and Bernard, but without the disguise?

"Fine. Alright. Lemme try again," she insisted, hands up, eyes closed. She took a breath to fortify herself.

"Please, we have all the time in the world," he snapped back, sarcasm dripping from his words as he stood with one arm spread wide, head at a sharp angle.

"Ok. You have the same build as Bernard," she assessed, trying to fight past his sarcasm. Shower ice cream bed. Shower ice cream bed.

"I'm surprised you could surmise that much, given the GIGANTIC distracting power of my bobble-like head," he muttered under his breath snarkily.

She snapped.

"Hey! Quit it alright? Do you want me to talk, or not?" she cried back at him, stamping one fuzzy-slippered foot again. Instead of feeling just anger this time though, her throat bubbled with emotion and she tried to push down the emotions of the day from frothing up to the surface. If he was going to put her on the spot, after all he'd put her through recently, he could at least have the decency to let her try without his sharp comments cutting her down every time.

"Yes, I'll be quiet," was all he managed meekly, seeming to be cut off at the knees by her slight sniffling and watery eyes.

She wanted this day to end. She wanted this confusing pain in her head and chest to end. She wanted him to stop staring at her with Bernard's sad eyes. The eyes that made her want to squeeze his hand comfortingly like she might have done with the shy bespectacled man.

She just kept going, pushing away the urge, trying to work through his appearance by talking about it as the thoughts came.

"Well, aside from the skin…" she began, trying to imagine Bernard's face overlapping his, seeing the similarities and differences. "...and the head, and being practically anorexic, you're pretty human like."

And he was. Just a little oddly proportioned in terms of his weight. She didn't see anything that might have come straight out of a Sci-Fi movie, like extra arms, tentacles, or mandibles instead of a mouth. As far as aliens go, or at least the media's portrayal of them, he was as close to a human as you could get. Shrink the head, and dye the skin; he'd be John Doe from down the street.

"Two hands, two feet. All ten fingers and toes I assume," she half asked, half stated, rubbing her arm against her nose with sniff before tilting her head at him, her eyes becoming a bit clearer.

"Present and accounted for," and he waggled his hand at her in answer.

"Your face is pretty normal, if you ignore the forehead," she mused, and dared to move forward into his personal space, reaching a hand up. Was his skull just that large? She wondered whether it felt the same as a human. Would she feel the bone through the surface? It would have to be similar to a human's. Any softer or harder, and he'd have gotten serious brain damage over the years from repeated blunt force trauma.

Hesitating for a moment, especially when she saw how wide his eyes became, she eventually forged forward and touched her finger to his bare head and then down his brow. She was curious about the feel of his blue skin, especially after what she'd felt of his hands during their brief and awkward hand shake. And if he wanted her to truly weight the options and get to know him, he needed to let her sate her curiosity.

Call it penance for all the things he'd put her through.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, wetting his lips and swallowing noisily. He was shaking.

Roxanne would admit, she kind of liked the power she felt having him like that. Maybe that's why he liked being a villain. Having the control to make someone tremble did feel pretty good.

Bolstered by that, she used that same finger to give him a quick poke to his chin, ending in the barest of pinches with her thumb and forefinger, wrinkling her nose with a smile at him.

"I've always found it cute how you have this little goatee."

It must be in the Super Villain Handbook. Right after the section on capes and maniacal laughing: All Villains must have facial hair. Curly pencil moustache or a goatee are acceptable examples.

"Uh-huh." He looked like a terrified animal.

"And you have green eyes, just like Bernard. But they're a different green than normal green."

"Y-yes. I… I can't change eye colour on my holograms… If I did… it would require… shooting high-intensity laser optics directly into the retina which can damage sight. So… I don't."

"Why are your eyes almost neon?" she asked, moving closer. The reporter in her was on auto-pilot, asking the questions that came to her mind while she analyzed him like a test subject.

"I have no idea. They just are," he squeaked.

"They're nice. I always liked them on Bernard. Except his glasses were in the way."

"I like your hair," he suddenly blurted.

"What?" she blinked, leaning back slightly in some shock.

"Your hair. I like it," he whispered, flicking his gaze up to her brown tresses which she touched self consciously, a faint little smile capturing her lips. She shyly dipped her head in embarrassment, a bit touched by the compliment.

"I… I like when you touch it," he mumbled and she was no longer touched, and just a little bit freaked out.

"Excuse me?" she asked flatly, one eye brow raising. She put more distance in between them.

"I'm sorry! That was idiotic and vaguely disturbing. I'm nervous."

"Nervous? Why?"

"Because!" he snapped harshly and he took a steadying breath and then tried again in a softer voice. "Because. I want to…" and he trailed off.

What did he want to do? Roxanne glanced toward the edge of the scaffolding and her potential exits.

"I want to touch you. I want to pretend I'm Bernard again."

"Really?" She was nervous about what 'touching' he was talking about.

"Yes, of course! It was torture just trying to stop myself when I was Bernard! Now, the rules have entirely changed, and I don't... I don't know what to do."

Based on his words and tone, the type of touching was the innocent kind. Not the moderately voyeuristic 'I watch you while you sleep' sort of thing she'd been imagining after his hair comment. Roxanne relaxed a little.

"You could... start with my hand?" she said thoughtfully and held up her left appendage invitingly. Hand touching was a good place to start. Safe. Comfortable. Normal. Nothing creepy.

"Your hand?" he asked, dumbstruck.

"Yea. We could hold hands I guess?"

"Really?" He brightened.

"Yep. I'll even let you squeeze it. That's like, second base in hand holding," she teased with a wink, wiggling her fingers at him tauntingly.

"Don't mock me," he chided, pointing a finger at her in warning.

"I'm not. I promise. Here." And then she reached for his bare hand and intertwined their fingers together for the first time, trying not to make it seem like that huge of a deal, despite the way her heart squeezed a little.

"I've... never held your hand without gloves on. Or a hologram," he observed softly, looking up at her with a small grin. Sheepish. Shy. But pleased. She smiled back in kind.

"That's true. Am I taking your bare-hand holding virginity?" she asked, and she was true to her word by squeezing his palm gently, and he managed a squeeze in return. He looked delighted and frightened all at once.

"Remember, no mocking!"

"Ok, ok. It's nice though, right?" It was nice. Simple. Normal. She'd held hands with other men before, and it had felt the same. Just like holding hands with Bernard in the park.

He was smiling at her the same way he had then too.

"Yes, it is. What now?" he asked.

What now. A good question.

She stared down at their hands for some time as she digested the information she'd gathered already.

He was similar enough to a human. Holding hands felt the same. He was obviously capable of interacting with humanity in an acceptable way if he passed for being Bernard for so long without anyone catching on. And there was the whole idea of him turning over a new leaf to consider.

He could do a lot of good for the city, given the right motivation. The right person at his side to help guide him.

She could be considered his friend, at least. She was the one who knew him best perhaps in the whole city. Not that she would use his feelings to manipulate him... but, well, he could use a positive role model to help him make decisions.

And the idea of him gone from her life... No kidnappings anymore, no Minion, no Brain-Bots. No Megamind... It left a big emptiness in her chest.

"We just... take it step by step I guess."

"So you want to…?" he pushed.

She grew quiet, looking at their hands together while mulling her thoughts over in her mind before speaking.

"… I haven't had much time to sort through what I'm thinking or feeling about you M. This was the first time I ever even really thought about what you looked like. I'm not promising anything. But today, you proved you can act in a way that I really respect and admire. That's definitely a step in the right direction."

"Well, I like steps in the right direction. And I like that you don't hate me."

"I don't hate you M," she admitted with a sigh, knowing that much was at least true. She couldn't hate someone who had risked his life for her so readily. "Let's just… not put labels on it, and maybe just see where it goes?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," he smiled again and then, hands still entwined, they turned to look across the bay toward the city once more.

They stood in companionable silence, simply watching the waves of the water in the bay pressing against the shore. They watched night steadily approaching, the city's light pollution keeping the scene bright as each building began to glow on its own. Wind swept up with the scent of smoke, fresh water and natural air, hitting them with a blast of cold chill that made Roxanne laugh a little, her hair suddenly flying in a tornado with the breeze. The strands fell back to rest across her brow, criss-crossing and dishevelled and she looked up at them in exasperation.

Suddenly, his hand was gone from hers and reaching up, brushing her bangs back across her forehead and smoothing them down into place, taking the last, longer chunk within his grasp and finishing the motion by slipping it behind her ear lovingly. Roxanne stood frozen at the oddly intimate gesture and just watched his face.

He smiled dreamily at her, until he saw the way her eyes were wide, and she was holding her breath.

Then he looked at his hand, resting beneath the shell of her ear, buried in her hair.

He pulled it back quickly, stammering out sounds and syllables that never really made words.

"M. It's ok."

"…It is?" he blinked at her, and a small smile came to her lips, a blush spreading across the tops of her cheeks.

"I don't mind," she shrugged, and tucked the same hair behind her ear again, by habit, laughing softly at herself.

She laughed because it was true. She hadn't minded. Maybe been a bit shocked, that was true, but there was something romantic and chivalrous about a man stroking your hair that made a girl feel alright about it. Call her a sucker for a smooth move, but she'd always melted for things like that on the big screen. Matthew McConaughey and Jennifer Lopez. Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling. She'd grow teary-eyed and swoon, and that little girl inside of her who wishes she was a Princess would cry out to have the Prince that would treat her like that.

Four year old Roxanne never imagined the first person to do that to her would have blue skin.

"Really?" Megamind perked up, seeming delighted that she didn't mind the interaction. Then his eyes grew a little more foggy and distant, watching her intensely. "Because I've always…"

"Always what?" she tilted her head at him curiously.

"Wanted to do this…" he half whispered while moving even closer to her, timid at first as he raised his hand, hesitating, before plunged forward and slowly touching her bangs once again. He moved his hand back across her temple, sliding fingers into the thick of her hair at the side of her head. Her eyes grew half lidded, and she made a soft little noise in the back of her throat.

Well that felt better than it had any right to.

He mussed her hair in his hand, running his fingers through it again and again, his expression one of a young child first discovering bubbles. Filled with wonder and a need to see it done again and again.

Her eyes were almost entirely shut now, Logic being forced to take a back seat while she indulged in a little girlish fantasy time, enjoying that tingling in her scalp when his fingers massaged and stroked and played with her hair. He acted as if he was a man.. who didn't have any hair and had never felt it before.

How curious to think that perhaps he'd never touched a woman's hair before. Roxanne belatedly wished she'd had the time to style it properly, so the strands would have been softer, shinier, prettier. Then he could have really felt it at its best and enjoyed it all the more.

Definitely not something to be thinking about for someone uninterested in a relationship.

Perhaps she was giving off some very bad signals, eyes closed and head tilted as she was, soaking up his attention like a love-starved teenager. Logic swam to the surface in her brain just as she was preparing to open her eyes, only to feel his body move suddenly closer to hers, so their chests met.

Her eyes fluttered open just as his lips descended on hers in a simple kiss and she heard herself inhale sharply with surprise.

And for the second time in 24 hours, Roxanne found herself staring at his blue, angular face, engaged in a kiss she wasn't prepared for.

He'd squeezed his eyes shut tightly, not in the relaxed, blissful way they had been at the restaurant, but in terror. Fear. His eyebrows were drawn down in a cringe. His hand was tightly gripped into the hair at the back of her head, not enough to hurt, but as if he were desperately clinging to something to balance him during a moment of insanity.

He was preparing to be rejected. Already wincing before a blow could even be dealt. He knew he was taking a leap, pressing her too hard, stepping over a line, but he'd done it anyway.

Like the old Megamind. The fool hardy, head strong idiot who stumbled and screamed his way through life, always one step ahead of the disaster licking at his heels, never thinking of the consequences. And he'd always avoid the rubble at the other end of his mistakes, look back at the chaos he had nearly been enveloped in, and then whoop with glee at his latest 'success'.

This was the Megamind she knew. Mixed with a little bit of the Bernard that made her heart skip a beat.

This was somewhere in between. A perfect blend of the criminally insane, with the perfectly sweet.

She kissed him back.

Kissed him for the relief that he was still in there somewhere, and not beaten and reduced to a sad shell of a man. Kissed him as thanks for him still being alive after putting himself on the line to save her. Kissed him for realizing his potential to be more than just the villain who never wins.

Roxanne Ritchi kissed him because sometimes it's ok to dream you'll become a Princess. Sometimes life hands you little moments where you get to pretend you're a damsel in distress, and someone does come riding in to save you. She'd felt a bit like that for the majority of her career as a kidnappee. Her White Knight always came to sweep her away, but there was never any sunset shot, where they kissed with the amber glow on the horizon putting them in profile. Yet here she was, sun setting at her back with that big screen-worthy kiss. She'd been kidnapped. She'd been held hostage. And then she'd been saved.

Maybe she liked black and spikes better than white anyways.