Yesterday was the third anniversary of Megamind's release in theaters. Happy Meganniversary, fandom!

Credits and thanks to Sally for some key elements of the story.

Chapter 1

Twenty-seven… Twenty-seven… Twen-ty-seev-een…

The number kept repeating in her head as she tried to concentrate on typing up the notes she'd made from her last interview until she finally cast another glance at the huge golden stack of boxes almost hidden under an even larger golden gauze bow sitting on the chair near her desk. Twenty-seven. In a few years I'll be…

Jerking her eyes back to the keyboard, her fingers pounded with greater ferocity. Tap! Tap! Tappity-tap!

She had never liked birthdays. Not since her tenth when she noticed the gifts were becoming more "practical" and "useful", including that set of encyclopedias from a once-favored aunt. That was when she'd realized that birthdays were nothing but a dirty rotten trick. The definitive demarcation of time slipping away. It wasn't getting older that bothered her but the realization that always came along with it. The depressing thought that one more chunk of her life had passed, never to return, and the sinking feeling with the more recent birthdays that she was still missing something. Something important. Her eyes strayed to the gleaming present again.

To the casual observer she would have seemed to have it all. Her degree, acquired with no small amount of effort and conferred on her with highest honors, a career she had always determined to fight hard for but which had practically landed in her lap, and no small amount of clout along with it. Fame as well. Few others could claim to be so recognizable a figure in Metro City society. Independence, a decent paycheck, just the sort of low-maintenance, high-end studio apartment in just the right part of town that she'd been hoping would open up and had. With a view no less. Plus the attention of the most powerful man in the city.

A tension in her jaw signaled the return of the two perpendicular lines furrowing her brow, and raising a hand to her face she massaged them away before flicking her shoulder length hair behind her collar while taking a deep breath. Her fingers dropped to her desk and began to drum irritably as she realized yet another colleague was passing the doorway of her cubicle with purposefully measured tread, unable to resist glancing inside.

She turned to glare at the interloper, but the unsuspecting target had already moved on. They were hardly subtle, her co-workers. And all because last year Wayne had sent her this giant multi-level tower of ridiculously expensive truffles for her birthday and she had shared some. And the year before. And the year before that too. Sure, the first time she had been delighted, flattered, secretly smug at how envious all the other girls in the office were. And feeling generous, she'd passed out an entire layer of the dark brown velvet-textured treats. Heck, by the end of the day she had nearly handed out the whole damn thing. So now they expected it. But this year when the boxes arrived in the deferential hands of the Scott's private courier with his usual impudent wink, she'd coolly thanked and dismissed him and left it sitting on the edge of her desk. But it took up too much space so she moved it to the chair. She didn't feel like opening it, and she didn't feel like sharing. And the sharks had been circling all day.

But now it was nearly time to go home. Closing the lid of her laptop, she sat back and gazed out the window at the city she called home. Twenty-seven, girl. In a few short years you'll be…

With a wince she closed her eyes, thinking of how fast the last three years had passed. And how fast the next few probably would too. The next few… or even more than a few. So what. Look at what I've accomplished.

But did you?

Her eyes opened, zeroing in on a framed document carefully hung on her wall. Her degree.I did that. All on my own. Did my internship. Landed this job. On my own. She remembered walking into her current boss's office, nervous as a cat and green as an apple, boldly laying out exactly why he should hire her; why she was the best person for the job and what she expected to accomplish as a reporter.

The bemused look on his face had told her he had been as amused by the brash temperament and insistent energy of the serious young woman as he was impressed by her naïve determination. But she had been hired.

That was all me.

But that wasn't the end of the story. Everybody knew the battles between the city's hero and villain were the surest source of news and entertainment around. And Roxanne had been determined to stake a claim to that goldmine, a big one, and damn the consequences. She had nothing to lose. So she donned her flak jacket, got closer, asked more questions, researched background information tirelessly, demanded answers. She had always pushed her way up front in the crowd of reporters on each and every scene, shouting the loudest questions. And yeah, ok, she knew her most obvious assets and how to make use of them.

It became clear that Wayne had noticed the pretty, blue-eyed reporter. And soon it was just as clear that Megamind had noticed the way Wayne gave her preferential treatment after each squabble. if she were honest, she would have had to admit that had it been within her power to change things, she probably wouldn't have when they saw fit to start making her an integral part of their games. She knew she'd hit the jackpot. At least, once she understood that she wasn't actually in mortal danger every time she was abducted. They'd been on magazine covers and made the front page of the news over and over. Her boss loved it. Free advertising! She, however much she had been happy to rise to the top at first, was not so sure anymore.

As far as she could see, it was just a big show; two shipwrecked aliens duking it out over the town they lived in. What she really wanted to know was why. But no one seemed to bother looking beyond their assumptions to ask that. Wayne always just fell back on the usual canned platitudes about justice and blah, blah. Like he thought he was fooling her, sidestepping the issue with generalities. She had also tried to gain access to the super-max facility inside the prison in order to get an interview outside the usual weekly scuffles with the super-brained convict that everyone was so afraid of, but she was always turned away because of the "risk" involved. She found that laughable. Megamind just wasn't that scary to her. It was a fact that she found him a lot more interesting than Wayne.

Truth be told, after all this time she wasn't that interested in Wayne anymore and least of all romantically. But that inconvenient little factoid wasn't going to help her career. In the beginning he'd been keen to woo her, and they had certainly been seen at more than a few official functions together. She sighed, knowing she shouldn't have given in to the temptation to help the rumors along, but being seen with the most powerful man in the city had undoubtedly benefitted her career. It had crushed her personal life, but, well, something had to give. She argued with herself that she hadn't really led him on, that he was using her as much as she was using him, and that he probably knew by now she really didn't want a rich, self-centered, hero-playboy for a boyfriend because lately she had been getting the vibe that he wasn't totally into her either. But he seemed content to pursue what everybody assumed was "meant to be". In public at least. For show. She wondered sometimes how far he was going to take it. The idea of hanging on his arm, draped in the same sort of golden material as the box of chocolates, being his eye candy, his prize for winning, made her shudder.

Her mom liked the idea. Way too much. She'd told her she simply wasn't ready to be tied down at this point in her career, but… twenty-seven… She could hear it now. The conversation she would be having later that evening. Yeah, mom, I know he's a catch. I know, he's rich. I know my clock is ticking.

To her mother, it was perfect. To Roxanne, it was a life sentence. The thought of continuing this charade indefinitely and being a trophy wife and having Wayne's babies… if that was even possible… ugh.

She sighed. Lifting her chin from her hand she stood up from the chair and, flipping her chestnut locks behind her shoulder again, began gathering her things. She would cross that bridge when they came to it. In the meantime, why be restless when she had it all?

Why? Because truth be told, her life wasn't quite as fulfilling as it probably seemed to those looking in from the outside. Yes, something was missing.

Last she picked up the golden gift - substantial, weighty, unopened - glancing at the flowing script on the tag: The world's finest chocolates… from the man who wants to give you the world.

The words curled her lip into a grimace of distaste. What was wrong with her? Who wouldn't want to be pursued by the most powerful man in the city? And yet all she could think every time she read the sentiment she was sure some lackey had penned at Wayne's command was, gag. The temptation to dump the thing in the first trashcan she passed out on the street became more compelling. Slinging her bag over her shoulder and stepping out into the hallway, she noticed Silvia lingering, arms full of papers, looking at her hungrily.

"Hey, birthday girl! Going home already?" the rival reporter asked, glancing at the gift.

"Yep." Roxanne gripped the edge of her present a little tighter as a sudden image of the woman pouncing on it and ripping it open flitted through her mind.

"Well, you're a lucky, lucky girl, Roxanne. I won't hold you up. Bet you've got big plans for tonight too."

Feeling pitiful and mean, she imagined sitting on the couch in her sweatpants, stuffing herself full of chocolate all alone. With a snorting smirk she muttered, "Yeah."

An offer from Wayne I will once again turn down which he won't even bother to seem upset about. She already had her excuse ready. An annoying phone call from my mom, a TV dinner… oh heck, maybe I'll treat myself and order in. What's that? A real date? Of course I - oooh wait. That's right. No. No date. Because the entire city presuming I have a relationship with Wayne has pretty much killed off any possibility of being asked out ever again! And any friends I do have assume I'll be spending the evening with said fictional boyfriend.

Not that she went out much with friends anyway. Megamind's constant threat of interference intimidated them too much. And really, that was just what she needed to shake this funk. One really fun night to cut loose. But no… The same two people that had made her career were ruining her life.

As she began walking away, Silvia called out, "Have fun!" She added under her breath, "Lucky duck."

Yeah. That's me. A lucky ducky. Quack.

Maybe that was what was bothering her so much. She wanted to think of herself as a strong, independent woman who had worked hard to get where she was. Did everybody else just see her as lucky?

It was partly that fear that pushed her to take chances, especially at work. She'd been called on the carpet a few times lately for putting herself in danger. Taking too many risks. She was a valuable commodity to the station now. She'd only shrugged, determined to make it seem as though it was nothing. But her boss had gone all concerned and fatherly on her. "I can't have anything happen to Metro Man's favorite girl," he'd smiled. "He'd never forgive me."

It made her want to scream. But she was stuck. Her job relied on her role. And that burned.

"Hey, Silvia! Wait a minute…"

"Mom…" she sighed into the phone. The tiny snips of hair the stylist had missed cleaning up that were now falling down the back of her neck weren't nearly as irritating as listening to the same advice her mother had been offering – or rather, pushing on her - for the last several birthdays.

The walk-in salon had been right on the way home, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity given her rebellious state of mind to go for that pixie cut she'd been wanting to try. Wait until the makeup girl at work saw it. At least it was going to be easy to style. Wait until her mom saw it. Or Wayne.

"I'm just saying, Roxanne. You're not getting any younger-"

Roxanne grimaced.

"-and if you want to have a family-"

"Yeah well, I don't know if I do want to have a family!"

That's what I should say. She was gripping the cell phone so tight her fingertips and knuckles had turned a sickly whitish color. Her bag slipped from her shoulder to the crook of her elbow, nearly flipping the stack of boxes right out of her arms, and as she tried to hitch it up, she could feel little hairs falling further down her back. She needed to shift the position of the chocolates to her other arm and try to not drop the phone at the same time. In her struggle she was barely creeping along, and people steamed past oblivious to the smoke she was certain had to be rising from her ears. What she really wanted to do was slam the phone and the boxes on the ground so she could slap like crazy at those pokey hairs under her collar. Instead she heard the usual noncommittal assurance slipping from between her lips. "I know, Mom. I know."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady. I know you are."

Biting back another sigh, she defiantly rolled them once more, so hard she nearly gave herself a headache and sidestepped the comment at the same time as she sidled around a hole in the sidewalk. "Ok, look, I'm almost home, and I have to get ready to go out."

"Ok, honey. Tell Wayne I said hi!"

"Okay!" she promised with false brightness. Next time I see him. Which won't be tonight.

"Be good, and have a great birthday, sweetheart. I love you!"

Be good. "Thanks, Mom. Love you too."

As she pressed 'end', her heart hardened. Be good. Yeah, that's exactly what I'm not planning to do tonight. Thinking of the plans she'd made with Silvia, she finally smiled. Hopefully some of the other girls would be available – and willing - to go out as well. Struggling to coax the phone back into the ridiculously small pocket of her purse and not fumble her tower of boxes in the meantime, she thought about all the possible places they could go after they met up at The Funky Lizard Lounge… Barry's… maybe Rue 57, it had a colorful reputation, until uttering a mild oath, she stopped altogether. She spotted the opening of an alley a few steps ahead and made for it, phone still in hand, meaning to set everything down out of the way of all the foot traffic so she could redistribute her load.

"Can I help you with that?"

"Thanks," she gasped, eyes on her gift as it nearly took a dive right off her arm. She caught it and looked up with a grateful smile. "It's about time somebody- Oh! Nawww, great."

The incongruence of a hairy, primate-shaped, robotic body being the primary habitat and conveyance for a fish-shaped alien never failed to strike her, no matter how fast he popped that bag on her head.

Waking up to the sight of myriad mathematical equations pinned to a giant pegboard gave her the same sinking feeling she got from that stupid recurring dream about trying to take a test in school that she hadn't studied for. The electrical hum in the background even sounded ominously similar to the buzz of the wall clocks in the high school, mostly noticeable when everyone was completely silent, such as during an exam. Or maybe the disturbed feeling she awoke to was an effect of the knock-out spray they used. She was sure it had nothing to do with the Gatling gun hanging over her shoulder inches from her head; she was immune to that sort of thing by now. Either way, waking up in Megamind's lair was never pleasant.

She looked around, noticing her bags at her side and the giant tower of golden boxes on a console nearby. The bow had been untied. She scowled. If he'd opened that up – if he'd eatenany - she was going to give him a good kick in the shins as soon as he got close enough.

"-didn't you remind me-"

"I forgot! Why do I always have to remember ev-"

"Shh." The poorly concealed whispering stopped. "She's awake."

"Yeah. I'm awake," Roxanne called out to the unlikely pair. A man and his fish, she thought. "Let's get this show on the road. I have plans for tonight."

"Go get that…" The rest of the whispered command was lost to her but she detected the departing footfalls of one ape-suit-wearing fish before Megamind walked into sight from around her seat with a hand resting on the butt of the ray gun at his hip.

"Oh hohoho! Look who's feeling all… demand-y," he taunted. Then, turning to face her as he reached the front of her chair, he stopped short and took a step back.

"Hel-lo, Ms Ritchi…" He looked her over with a funny smile. "Sporting a new 'do, I see. My, my. I like that very much. It accentuates the…" Passing a hand smoothly along the side of his own bare blue scalp, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Shape of your head quite nicely."

The way he was eyeing her head made Roxanne blush, which subsequently annoyed her. Unable to think of a suitable reply, she sat fuming, refusing to look directly at the bare pate that was the source and summit of her captor's megalomania, beginning to regret her hasty decision to go for the brash style she now sported. It was rather roundish.

"And, alas, I'm afraid you'll have to consider your plans for the evening broken." A mock pout pursed the blue lips.

Narrowing her eyes, Roxanne finally looked directly at him. "What plans?"

"Why your date with Mr. Blunderful, of course. Why you bother to even make plans on days when I require your undivided attention, I have no idea," he shrugged infuriatingly as Roxanne glared. "I'm sure you'll have a chance to see your sorry excuse for a beau tonight – just before his untimely demise – but… sorry to say I'm going to have to break your little date," he taunted, the last word bitten off hard.

Roxanne huffed. "How do you know we have a date anyway?"

"It's your birthday," he snapped back. "Of course you do. I'm sure your simple-minded brutefriend was planning to take you to dinner in some over-priced eating establishment and… what else? Dancing? A movie? Some… hopeful intoxication possibly?" he murmured suggestively, glancing back at her golden gift.

Roxanne's temper blazed. Apparently he had tasted some of her birthday treat after all, the snot. How else would he have known they were liquor centers? And he obviously bought the lie too. Well, she wasn't going to tell him otherwise. She was livid. "Oh, you wouldn't know a date if it slapped you in the face! In fact," she added viciously, "I bet you've never been on a date in your life."

"Yes, I have," the indignant alien instantly retorted.

"Really."

"Of course!"

"With…?"

Megamind's famously green eyes swiveled back and forth for a moment. "I took Minion to the zoo just the other night."

Roxanne sniffed. "No offense to Minion," she smirked, "but I don't think that counts."

The defendant didn't answer. Maybe she was imagining it, but that incongruously pretty pink blush over his cheekbones seemed to deepen. It was true! And he was embarrassed. She might in normal circumstances have been moved to pity, at least in some small sense, but today she wasn't feeling it. He'd caught her at about the worst possible time of course. Typical way for him to operate. And pressed her buttons and taken liberties with her gifts! Only having PMS could have made her temper any worse. And so, feeling meanly superior, she went on. "So, no. You've never been on a date. Of course you haven't. Because you're a nerd. The ultimate nerd. A science geek bent on ruling the city, holed up in your little workshop here, insulated from the real world, making ray guns and costumes for yourself."

Megamind stared at her coldly. "Well… I'll bet your dating record isn't anything to brag about. It must be a narrow pool to choose from when you only accept offers from the stinking rich! Or famous. Or rich and famous!"

"I do not only date rich men," Roxanne calmly replied.

"Oh yeah? Name someone you've dated who wasn't fabulously wealthy," he demanded, adding quickly, "Within the last five years."

"Ok, that's not fair," she protested. "It's not my fault that nobody will ask me out."

"Oh, poor you! And you couldn't possibly unbend to ask anyone out yourself?"

Roxanne sat with her mouth open for a second. She frowned, unable to come up with a reply. "Well, you-"

"The truth is, no one's good enough for you, Miss Perfect. Except His Scottly Highness."

"I do not think I'm perfect!" she asserted. "And there are a lot of guys I'd be willing to date that aren't rich. Or famous."

"Riiight." He folded his arms dubiously. "Any Joe Schmoo, right?"

"Yes. That's right." She nodded. "A Joe Schmo would be fine."

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious!" It was a good thing her feet were tied. She had an inclination to stamp her foot.

"Sure. Any plumber, construction worker, carpet layer…" He stopped. "I'll bet you've never dated a nerd in your life!"

Suddenly Roxanne laughed. "Oh, believe me, I have dated plenty of nerds." She shook her head. "And… I can see where this is going now. And it's not going to work. There is no way I'm going out with you."

"Oh hoho," he chuckled along. "Is that what your tortuously self-absorbed little brain is guessing that I'm up to?" He raised an eyebrow her way. "Like I'd ask you."

The blue villain was laughing easily now, and Roxanne scowled. What did he mean, he wouldn't ask her for a date? He ought to beg her for one!

"Can you see it? Me, trying to get a date with you!" He was still laughing and her temper was rising. "Of course not… But even if I did, I'm sure you'd say no." He sobered. "Because you're a snob."

"No!" Roxanne replied hotly, "Because I don't date convicts!"

"Why not?" he challenged, leaning in to lock eyes with her, face to angry face. "Scared?"

She huffed. "Pssht! Of you?"

"Well then, let's go, Ms Ritchi." Straightening up, he stuck out his chest and looked down past the end of his thin blue nose at her. "I challenge you to a date!"

The reporter narrowed her eyes. "You are such a dork. You don't challenge a woman to a date."

The blue being deflated slightly, recognizing his blunder. He began to pace thoughtfully, moving around behind her chair once again.

"All right then…"

Hearing him clearing his throat, she braced for more taunts, something designed to stir her up further, but instead Megamind did the least likely thing she could think of.

"Would you like to go out sometime?"

The meaning of the question didn't immediately register in her brain, popping up dead calm in the midst of their heated exchange as it had, despite it being about the very thing they'd been arguing over. When she didn't answer, he added as though he needed to clarify, "With me."

It was as normal an offer of a date as she had ever had. No corny pick-up line preceded the question nor slimy come-on was tacked on to the end. Compared to what she'd heard before, it sounded… inviting.

As the startled reporter struggled to respond, Megamind waited, remaining behind her chair. The longer she held her tongue, the more nervous he became until he imagined a racehorse in the starting gate couldn't have been more ready to bolt. Why be nervous though? He knew she would never agree to the idea. He'd meant it as a challenge and offered it as politely as he could so she would have to turn down a perfectly reasonable offer and thereby make his case for him. She couldn't do otherwise. Wouldn't. Would she? No. Might as well play it out, tease her, press her buttons until she finally broke and gave him the inevitable heave-ho, and he could claim the rejection as a win.

"Come on," he leaned over to whisper near her ear. "Prove you're not a snob."

Flustered, she asked, "Where are we going to go? You can't exactly trot me around in public."

He considered the question. Very sneaky of her. Instead of a straight up turndown, she was going to try to deflect the challenge by making him admit the idea was impossible. "Why not?" he demanded. "I suppose you couldn't stand being seen with me."

"Ha! Well besides that, I was actually thinking of your outstanding arrest warrants," she turned her head to direct her arguments over her shoulder. "Watching my date get cuffed and hauled off to the clink doesn't exactly sound like a stellar way to wrap up an evening."

She had a point, but he wasn't done yet. It was all a game of chicken now. Who would be the first to flinch; the one to cry uncle? "I'll figure something out."

There was a moment's silence in which the two opponents seemed to be waiting in mild disbelief for something to happen to stop their game, silently holding their thoughts like poker players counting cards until Roxanne spoke again.

"You know I'm just going to write this up later. And tell everybody all about it." She couldn't understand why he wasn't coming up with a better way to defuse the situation. And why she wasn't just slapping him down.

"Fine," Megamind demurred as though he couldn't care less. "Go ahead. Be my guest."

He couldn't believe his ears. She still hadn't turned him down. And did she think he would care if the whole city knew that they'd gone on a date? Obviously it might count as a black mark against her, but for him… Score one against his nemesis! A big one! A date with his girlfriend? Go ahead and shout it from the rooftops! How could that be used as a threat?

Although… she did have a habit of painting him in a very negative light, even at times when he had clearly been fabulous. He pouted resolutely, clenching his fists at his sides. Fine, let her make him look a fool, pointing out all his mistakes. On his first date. He would risk it. He wasn't going to be the one to chicken out.

"Ok, fine." Roxanne's thoughts were spinning. Now this is pushing the limits. A date with a super villain? Her mind reeled at the idea of willingly going out with this person who took liberties with her freedom every week. Never mind that. Think of it as an opportunity. The first real interview anybody's ever gotten with him. She found it difficult to own up to the level of excitement she felt and chalked it up to the feeling of playing with fire.

"You mean… yes?"

"Yeah," she said, taking note of his tone of disbelief. "Yes."

Oddly, it was at that moment she felt that tiny hint of pity she had turned aside from before. He really was such a nerd. With no one in the world but Minion. She was certain he'd never even asked a girl out before, and instantly she realized how much courage it must have taken to do it. Or, just plain reckless ballsiness. Yeah, that was more his style.

"Ok. Good." He could play it cool too. It was just a good thing his heart wasn't audible from outside his chest. One hand curled over the galloping organ as he stood near the back of her chair and asked, "Uh… when? Saturday?"

"No, that's no good for me."

I am sitting here… tied up… planning a date – a date! – with this criminal. I am seriously doing this? Her mother would plotz. She almost smiled. In the back of her mind she had already calculated the time she would need to meet the deadline for the Sunday edition of the Metro City Times so she could send the story in, entertainment section. Editorial maybe. Well, why not? Did I want to break out of the mould today or what?

"Saturday's no good for me," she continued. "How about Friday?"

"No, I have plans for Friday." He didn't. Nothing concrete anyway unless replacing Minion's filters counted. But he didn't want to appear too eager, jumping on the first day she offered.

Roxanne clicked her tongue. "Is there ever really a time you don't have plans? Evil plans in the works?" she questioned irritably. "Look, we're both busy people. How about tonight? Since you've already ruined my plans for this particular evening. My birthday," she added with weighty significance.

"Oh! Tonight? Um…" Glancing at his simian sidekick who happened to be walking back into the room completely oblivious to the turn of events playing out, he thought briefly of the mechanized mayhem they'd created, just waiting for the evening's program to begin. It could wait a day or two, he reasoned, clasping his hands behind his back. Opportunity was knocking and he was never one to refuse to answer the door. "Yeah, ok." He rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots. "Sure."

An uneasy silence fell over the room until Minion asked, "Um, what's going on?"

Megamind turned smartly to his henchman. "Change of plans, Minion. I'm taking Ms Ritchi out on a date."

Fumbling the box he was carrying, the startled fish nearly dropped his precious load. "Wha- What? A – a date? You… you…"

"Yes, Min-ion," his boss directed a steely gaze at his inappropriately astonished friend. "I. And Roxanne."

All the poor fish could do was stand staring with his mouth hanging open until his boss snatched away the smart grey box he was holding with a dangerously hard glint in his green eyes. He finally emerged from behind his victim's – correction, his date's - chair, hoping his ichthyoid friend would pull himself together before he became an embarrassment to them both. "Minion has fetched our, er my, birthday present to you."

"Oh! Um, thanks." Roxanne was genuinely surprised. "I'd take it, but… you know. I'm a little tied up at the moment."

"Ha ha. Very droll." Moving over to set the gift near the chocolates of his rival, the absurdity of this woman who had just accepted his offer of a date still being tied up struck him. And yet, they still had to control her exit from the Lair somehow.

Then Roxanne piped up, "Would you mind if I go home and change? Get out of my work clothes. Actually I really need a shower." Talking about getting ready for their date, the bonds around her wrists had never felt more awkward.

"Oh, you don't have to go to any trouble for my sake," he assured her magnanimously.

"Uh well, actually it's not for your sake. It's for mine. I just had a haircut, remember?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So there are all those little clippings down the back of my neck."

"Oh."

Seeing he was clueless, she realized he'd never had a haircut of course and so hadn't experienced the supreme irritation of those prickly little hairs. Roxanne explained. "It's uncomfortable. Very… itchy. So if you don't want your date to be fidgeting all night, I suggest you at least let me get cleaned up."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "If this is just some pathetic attempt to get out of our agreement as well as outfoxing my plan for the night, you-"

"No, it's not. I'm totally serious. Cross my heart."

Still eyeing her suspiciously, he decided coordinating and making up little factoids about hair trimmings was probably far too elaborate of a means of avoiding victimhood and decided she must be telling the truth. "All right then. I will return you to your apartment and allow you one hour to prepare. But don't even think about trying to get away."

"Wow, start right out with a threat. That's the way to romance your date," she commented dryly. "I'm nearly swooning in anticipation of this momentous occasion."

Ignoring the jibe, he motioned to his henchman to prepare the victim for transport. "Minion."

"Oh wait-"

The spray caught her leaning forward midsentence.

"Oops. Too late." He caught her head in one hand and eased her down as she began to slip sideways off the chair. "Oh well. She can tell me what it was when we pick her up again." He gazed down at her, his date, passed out on the floor. Date! Wow. I can't believe it. I'm going out on a date. Then looking at his hand, he noted aloud, "Oh! There really are little clippings. Look at that." He held his palm up for the curious fish's inspection.

He's late. Annoyed, Roxanne stood near the door and glanced at the clock again before shaking her head and tapping her foot. You'd think a guy getting a date for the first time would at least be on time.

The sound of rapidly approaching steps in the hall alerted her to the arrival of her tardy guest just before there was a frenetic tapping at the door and the handle was jiggled.

"Sheesh, ok, hang on," she muttered, reaching for the knob to let him in. She had stayed near the door meaning to be ready to go and not have to invite him inside, but as soon as she tripped the latch the door was pushed open and Megamind rushed past her, slamming it behind him. About to read him the riot act, she paused, noticing the bouquet of flowers he clutched in one bare blue hand as he peered through the peephole.

"You know, it's really not polite to push your way into someone's-"

"Sorry," he gasped, straining to see through the tiny hole. "Your doorman is a maniac. It took me forever to lose him." Suddenly remembering and glancing down at the bouquet, he turned briefly to hand it to her. "Oh. Here you go."

Disconcerted, Roxanne accepted the flowers and took note of her date's outfit as he continued to keep a keen lookout for his pursuer. Apparently he had decided changing out of working attire was a good idea. She had never seen the cape-wearing villain in casual clothing before, and the word "stud" came to mind before she could reign it in as her gaze swept down from a predictable black leather jacket over a black button up shirt to a pair of jeans that she would have guessed was impossible for such a slim figure to show off so well.

"Ahem! Well, I-"

"Oh!" Practically leaping away from the door, Megamind pressed himself against the wall next to it, indicating they were about to have company with a few silent finger stabs and wide eyes.Doorman, he mouthed.

Roxanne stared at him, blinking, as the doorbell rang. Holding her flowers to one side, she opened it a crack and smiled at her building's somewhat over-enthusiastic concierge. "Oh! Hi, uh, Carlos."

"Everything ok, Ms Ritchi?" inquired the short but brawny doorman breathlessly. "I was sure I spotted that little blue troublemaker in the building. Thought I better check on you."

"Wha- who, Megamind?" She chuckled. "No… not in here! That's for sure. Everything's fine," she assured him with a half-hearted smile. "I do appreciate your concern though."

"Oh. Well, all right then. But call my cell if you see him. Or need anything," he offered. "You have the number, right?"

"I do, yes," she agreed pleasantly. "And I will. If I need help. Thanks." Offering the obliging doorman a reassuring shrug and a smile, she closed the door and turned to her date who was still standing behind it. "Exactly how is this date going to work?"

Relaxing finally, he straightened his shoulders and pulled down his jacket determinedly. "I have a plan."

Roxanne tried not to wince. "Why doesn't that make me feel better?"