We're all just stories in the end.
По просьбе Динь перевела её фик на английский и, как хомячок, тащу всё к себе)). Согласование времен в английском - моя смерть, наверняка где-то каких-то тараканов упустила. Или нет.
Title: Christmas Holidays
Author: Динь
Beta-reading: lubava
Translation: bbgon
Pairing: Megamind/Metro Man
Rating: PG-13
Genre: humor, slash
Summary: Code: “No alcohol!”
Disclaimer: There is no slash in Megamind. Characters are not mine, I just borrowed them.
Author’s note: Written as a present.
читать дальшеI’m in a bar. It’s Christmas. We have a pact: we have a break. I’m not doing any of my heroic stuff, and he stops his villain stuff and catches up on sleep in his lair. I hope.
This tradition started since that unlucky Christmas, when he invaded Metro City with his robots to spoil everyone’s holidays, and then got stuck in a garland dressed up as a Santa. So I didn’t have to save the day yet another time. There was no splendid victory of the sort that history gurus are interested in. They usually cling to every detail, and ask fastidiously if I used a right-hand hook or a left-hand hook, and where I stood, and where he stood… I hate this part of the job, but they’ve assured me it’s absolutely essential for the prospective museum and for the whole City – so I had to shut up. Honestly speaking, that time I used both hands, because he made the garlands from some strange alloy. Wait! I got distracted again.
In short, that time I wasn’t saving the day, I was saving him. And then myself, because during the saving process we came flying to the bay, and then my super-power failed. His alloy wasn’t so simple after all, I must give him that. We both fell into the water and almost drowned. Coast guard had to drag us out. What a shame! Then we shivered with cold in the same boat in the same yellow lifejackets. No, wait, I was shivering, and he wasn’t. It seemed he liked how things turned out. We then looked at each other and silently agreed that we were done for the future Christmases, and that we were going to have proper holidays.
That’s why I am now sitting in a bar and drinking, dressed like a civil person and wearing sun-glasses. No one can even suspect that I am Metro Man, defender of Metro City!
“Metro Man!”
“Oh, gosh. It’s you?”
“Me”.
“If you start it once again- Don’t spoil the holidays, be a decent man”.
“Strictly speaking, I’m not a man. At least not human. And neither are you”.
“Just wait till I get at you!”
“Stop your hero talk. One martini, please”.
Metro Man kept an eye on the barman, who nodded and went on to bring the order. Why was there no reaction?
“Child’s play”, Metro Man’s unlikely companion said. “Hypno beam. I’m sick and tired that everyone starts to scream at the sight of me, you know”.
“I thought you liked it”.
“Nevermind. Martini!” he clicked his tongue. “Have you tried it with grapefruit?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Can’t you see? I’m getting drunk”.
“Very suspicious”.
“Very”, he drank deep from his glass.
“Why this bar, Megamind?”
“I like the service”.
“Don’t imagine that you’ve fooled me. You are here to spoil our Christmas, right?”
“I have better things to do. I have holidays”.
“So do I. Listen, can we just have three calm days without that nonsense? I’m deadly tired, and I strained my ankle on Friday”.
“I don’t believe you, Mr. Invincible”.
“I thought so. Well, are we going to have another fight? Destroy this bar? Your robots again? You won’t give me a break, will you? Barman, scotch!”
“I told you: I’ve got holidays! Barman, martini!”
“That’s a girls’ drink. Here, drink some real stuff for once”.
“Emn, I’ve got to go. Robots, villainies, master plans, you know”.
“Wait! Are you disrespecting me?”
“Oh no, not that”.
“Drink with me, then”.
“What is that stuff?”
“Why are you looking at me like that? Do you want to be an evil master mind? You must be able to make a – what’s it called? – with “R”.
“R- riots?”
“Yes, riots. Let’s drink to-“
“Stop this humdrum. Let’s drink to my world supremacy! To that day when you’ll leave Metro City!” Megamind drank his glass in one gulp. “Ugh! Water! I need water! What kind of poison is that? You’ve poisoned me!”
“Oh, it goes well! I’d be even better with pepper. Wait, where are you going? We’ve just started”.
“Just started?! What’s coming next, I wonder”.
“It was kid stuff”.
“Kid stuff?! I think I’ve got a call. Minion, Minion! Damn, there is no signal in here”.
“Right, damn this watch!”
“Give it back!”
“Sit down. I’ll give it back when we get out of here. At Christmas one takes no account of time. Even such an evil one as you! We’ll teach you goodness and justice. Barman, scotch!”
“No! How can you drink this poison?”
“It’s a real men’s drink. To your 88th life sentence!”
“Ha, to your future defeat!”
“Down the hatch”.
They salutes each other with the glasses and poured down their throats something suspicious, what the local barman held for decent alcohol. In fact, it was so decent that-
“Aaah!”
“Wait, here! Eat this”.
“Give it here, quickly! Aaah, it burns!”
“Now drink this”.
“What was that?”
“Well done. Now you are a real dark—what are you exactly?”
“Lord”.
“Bingo! Barman, scotch!”
“Barman, martini! Ah, to hell with martini. Scotch!”
* * *
By the end of the evening I definitely couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t the best idea: to pop into a bar to get some surgical spirit for an important experiment and run straight into Mr. Goody. Mr. Best-Haircut-in-Town. Mr. Shiny Shoes. And this happened precisely when I was on the wanted list! Federal wanted list, by the way. And it was also Christmas Eve.
Of course, it was useless to run away – I mean, to make a careful retreat – after he had noticed me. I had to start a friendly conversation with that pompous super dooper savior of this pathetic town. I didn’t have much choice, did I?
Another thing: I couldn’t confide to the Flower and Power of Metro City that alcohol disagreed with my organism. What happened next I saw through a mist. I heroically emptied the first glass he gave me, and felt that I couldn’t control my limbs anymore. The last glass I can’t even remember.
I can only remember that I flew through the air, and it was good, it was very pleasant, if you know what I mean.
What?! Air? Metro Man!
I must say, I was rather confused. Actually, I panicked. Where’s he taking me? To a prison? Again?
* * *
What am I doing, are you asking me? Well, I can’t leave him alone out there, right? He’ll be killed for sure, poor creature. If one of us was seen in the city center on Christmas Eve without protection, he would be torn to a thousand little mementos.
Mega – hic! – villain. He can’t even drink properly. So, where are we? 6th avenue, 7th… damn, where does he live?
Ah, to hell with that! We’ll sort this out tomorrow. Now I’ll bring him to my place. Not to my safehouse, but home. Till morning he isn’t any danger anyway, and then I’ll call his Minion to pick him up. If he gives me any trouble, I’ll simply tie him up.
Metro Man took the federally wanted villain handier, and flew towards the skyscraper, where he had an apartment presented to him by Metro City. The wanted criminal (with the reward of $1,000 000 set on his head) was hanging loose in his hands.
* * *
In the small hours Megamind woke up and immediately sat up in bed, startled. Where was he? An unfamiliar room, an unfamiliar bed. And an unfamiliar person beside him. A massive body with a powerful snore. That was weird. Where is he? And, more importantly, with whom? What happened yesterday?
Megamind poked his neighbor in the ribs. He snored louder and shifted, but didn’t wake up. Megamind had to turn on a small table lamp and bring it closer to the sleeping man’s face. To shed light on the situation, so to say. The other man’s face came into the circle of light, and Megamind stared at him, shocked. Metro Man.
“What would your first thought be, if you woke up in bed with Metro Man?” an illustrated women’s magazine asks, and Miss Kitty who is smiling from its pages answers (of course, with due giggling and flushing): “I would prepare him the best breakfast in his life, and then ask for an autograph”.
“What would your first thought be, if you woke up in bed with Megamind?” the interviewer is very persistent. “Aaah!” would the dame scream, and faint. What else?
The problem is, Megamind found the advice from a women’s magazine absolutely useless. He wasn’t going to make Metro Man breakfast. At least, until he had found his clothes. And Metro Man, for sure, wouldn’t scream if he finds Megamind beside him.
It would be better, if they didn’t see each other at all. So where were the clothes? Gone. And where did the rope come from? And duct tape? And handcuffs? And again: why did his clothes disappear?
Megamind’s eye twitched with effort, and the back of his head perspired. He rubbed his forehead fiercely, trying to remember anything about yesterday’s evening.
* * *
It was dark. Yes, they came late at night. The stars swung for the last time, as Metro Man pulled him into the room through the open balcony door. Megamind didn’t close his eyes. On the contrary, he tried to focus on something to calm down the nausea. When his feet touched the floor, he couldn’t hold up, and fell on his knees. He barely managed to put his hands forward, so as not to hit the floor with his face. Then he scrambled to his feet, pressed his hands to his lips, and ran to the bathroom. He threw up terribly. So terribly, in fact, that he found it completely natural to use Metro Man’s shower. Was he in distress? Yes, he was. Every decent person wouldn’t deny such a small favor as a shower. And soap, and a loofah, and that enormous bathrobe that felt so cozy to be wrapped into.
Out of the shower, Megamind strode past Metro Man, who was watching him intently, muttered some barbed remark about the bathroom walls’ coloring, collapsed facedown on the bed, fumbled to Metro Man to feel free to take him– to take him to prison, and passed out. He could even send a puppy to his cell later, as a consolation prize.
At 3 a.m. the defender of Metro City had a fresh (for three in the morning) thought: that they both looked rather well together in the same bed. But something was lacking from the picture. For example, that his guest wasn’t tied down, handcuffed, or chained to the radiator. On the contrary, he was sleeping peacefully after having stolen the blanket from its owner. And it seemed he found it a matter of course. How dared he? It couldn’t go on like this, and only Metro Man could stop this unashamed villainy!
He got up. The abrupt movement sent a ringing to his head. With some difficulty he found his fluffy slippers with “M” monogram on them, and went to look for the suitable tools. His arch-enemy slept like a baby and was unaware of the imminent danger.
4 a.m. Blue wrists are pressed to the bed. The melted handcuffs and ropes are scattered around. On the hero’s shoulder there is an unheroic and unvillainous bite mark. The both rivals are breathing heavily and looking intensely into each other’s eyes. And both are gasping sincerely and simultaneously: “I hate you!”
* * *
“Oh. My. God”. Megamind stood in the middle of the room. It was a dream! Of course, it was a dream! He had to get out, quickly. He had to get to his den as quickly as possible and have a good sleep. Code: “No alcohol”.
Metro Man heard the door slam, half opened one eye and chuckled into his pillow. Everything was fine, he could stay in bed. Megamind was overdramatizing, as always.
When do we have the next Christmas?
Title: Christmas Holidays
Author: Динь
Beta-reading: lubava
Translation: bbgon
Pairing: Megamind/Metro Man
Rating: PG-13
Genre: humor, slash
Summary: Code: “No alcohol!”
Disclaimer: There is no slash in Megamind. Characters are not mine, I just borrowed them.
Author’s note: Written as a present.
читать дальшеI’m in a bar. It’s Christmas. We have a pact: we have a break. I’m not doing any of my heroic stuff, and he stops his villain stuff and catches up on sleep in his lair. I hope.
This tradition started since that unlucky Christmas, when he invaded Metro City with his robots to spoil everyone’s holidays, and then got stuck in a garland dressed up as a Santa. So I didn’t have to save the day yet another time. There was no splendid victory of the sort that history gurus are interested in. They usually cling to every detail, and ask fastidiously if I used a right-hand hook or a left-hand hook, and where I stood, and where he stood… I hate this part of the job, but they’ve assured me it’s absolutely essential for the prospective museum and for the whole City – so I had to shut up. Honestly speaking, that time I used both hands, because he made the garlands from some strange alloy. Wait! I got distracted again.
In short, that time I wasn’t saving the day, I was saving him. And then myself, because during the saving process we came flying to the bay, and then my super-power failed. His alloy wasn’t so simple after all, I must give him that. We both fell into the water and almost drowned. Coast guard had to drag us out. What a shame! Then we shivered with cold in the same boat in the same yellow lifejackets. No, wait, I was shivering, and he wasn’t. It seemed he liked how things turned out. We then looked at each other and silently agreed that we were done for the future Christmases, and that we were going to have proper holidays.
That’s why I am now sitting in a bar and drinking, dressed like a civil person and wearing sun-glasses. No one can even suspect that I am Metro Man, defender of Metro City!
“Metro Man!”
“Oh, gosh. It’s you?”
“Me”.
“If you start it once again- Don’t spoil the holidays, be a decent man”.
“Strictly speaking, I’m not a man. At least not human. And neither are you”.
“Just wait till I get at you!”
“Stop your hero talk. One martini, please”.
Metro Man kept an eye on the barman, who nodded and went on to bring the order. Why was there no reaction?
“Child’s play”, Metro Man’s unlikely companion said. “Hypno beam. I’m sick and tired that everyone starts to scream at the sight of me, you know”.
“I thought you liked it”.
“Nevermind. Martini!” he clicked his tongue. “Have you tried it with grapefruit?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Can’t you see? I’m getting drunk”.
“Very suspicious”.
“Very”, he drank deep from his glass.
“Why this bar, Megamind?”
“I like the service”.
“Don’t imagine that you’ve fooled me. You are here to spoil our Christmas, right?”
“I have better things to do. I have holidays”.
“So do I. Listen, can we just have three calm days without that nonsense? I’m deadly tired, and I strained my ankle on Friday”.
“I don’t believe you, Mr. Invincible”.
“I thought so. Well, are we going to have another fight? Destroy this bar? Your robots again? You won’t give me a break, will you? Barman, scotch!”
“I told you: I’ve got holidays! Barman, martini!”
“That’s a girls’ drink. Here, drink some real stuff for once”.
“Emn, I’ve got to go. Robots, villainies, master plans, you know”.
“Wait! Are you disrespecting me?”
“Oh no, not that”.
“Drink with me, then”.
“What is that stuff?”
“Why are you looking at me like that? Do you want to be an evil master mind? You must be able to make a – what’s it called? – with “R”.
“R- riots?”
“Yes, riots. Let’s drink to-“
“Stop this humdrum. Let’s drink to my world supremacy! To that day when you’ll leave Metro City!” Megamind drank his glass in one gulp. “Ugh! Water! I need water! What kind of poison is that? You’ve poisoned me!”
“Oh, it goes well! I’d be even better with pepper. Wait, where are you going? We’ve just started”.
“Just started?! What’s coming next, I wonder”.
“It was kid stuff”.
“Kid stuff?! I think I’ve got a call. Minion, Minion! Damn, there is no signal in here”.
“Right, damn this watch!”
“Give it back!”
“Sit down. I’ll give it back when we get out of here. At Christmas one takes no account of time. Even such an evil one as you! We’ll teach you goodness and justice. Barman, scotch!”
“No! How can you drink this poison?”
“It’s a real men’s drink. To your 88th life sentence!”
“Ha, to your future defeat!”
“Down the hatch”.
They salutes each other with the glasses and poured down their throats something suspicious, what the local barman held for decent alcohol. In fact, it was so decent that-
“Aaah!”
“Wait, here! Eat this”.
“Give it here, quickly! Aaah, it burns!”
“Now drink this”.
“What was that?”
“Well done. Now you are a real dark—what are you exactly?”
“Lord”.
“Bingo! Barman, scotch!”
“Barman, martini! Ah, to hell with martini. Scotch!”
* * *
By the end of the evening I definitely couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t the best idea: to pop into a bar to get some surgical spirit for an important experiment and run straight into Mr. Goody. Mr. Best-Haircut-in-Town. Mr. Shiny Shoes. And this happened precisely when I was on the wanted list! Federal wanted list, by the way. And it was also Christmas Eve.
Of course, it was useless to run away – I mean, to make a careful retreat – after he had noticed me. I had to start a friendly conversation with that pompous super dooper savior of this pathetic town. I didn’t have much choice, did I?
Another thing: I couldn’t confide to the Flower and Power of Metro City that alcohol disagreed with my organism. What happened next I saw through a mist. I heroically emptied the first glass he gave me, and felt that I couldn’t control my limbs anymore. The last glass I can’t even remember.
I can only remember that I flew through the air, and it was good, it was very pleasant, if you know what I mean.
What?! Air? Metro Man!
I must say, I was rather confused. Actually, I panicked. Where’s he taking me? To a prison? Again?
* * *
What am I doing, are you asking me? Well, I can’t leave him alone out there, right? He’ll be killed for sure, poor creature. If one of us was seen in the city center on Christmas Eve without protection, he would be torn to a thousand little mementos.
Mega – hic! – villain. He can’t even drink properly. So, where are we? 6th avenue, 7th… damn, where does he live?
Ah, to hell with that! We’ll sort this out tomorrow. Now I’ll bring him to my place. Not to my safehouse, but home. Till morning he isn’t any danger anyway, and then I’ll call his Minion to pick him up. If he gives me any trouble, I’ll simply tie him up.
Metro Man took the federally wanted villain handier, and flew towards the skyscraper, where he had an apartment presented to him by Metro City. The wanted criminal (with the reward of $1,000 000 set on his head) was hanging loose in his hands.
* * *
In the small hours Megamind woke up and immediately sat up in bed, startled. Where was he? An unfamiliar room, an unfamiliar bed. And an unfamiliar person beside him. A massive body with a powerful snore. That was weird. Where is he? And, more importantly, with whom? What happened yesterday?
Megamind poked his neighbor in the ribs. He snored louder and shifted, but didn’t wake up. Megamind had to turn on a small table lamp and bring it closer to the sleeping man’s face. To shed light on the situation, so to say. The other man’s face came into the circle of light, and Megamind stared at him, shocked. Metro Man.
“What would your first thought be, if you woke up in bed with Metro Man?” an illustrated women’s magazine asks, and Miss Kitty who is smiling from its pages answers (of course, with due giggling and flushing): “I would prepare him the best breakfast in his life, and then ask for an autograph”.
“What would your first thought be, if you woke up in bed with Megamind?” the interviewer is very persistent. “Aaah!” would the dame scream, and faint. What else?
The problem is, Megamind found the advice from a women’s magazine absolutely useless. He wasn’t going to make Metro Man breakfast. At least, until he had found his clothes. And Metro Man, for sure, wouldn’t scream if he finds Megamind beside him.
It would be better, if they didn’t see each other at all. So where were the clothes? Gone. And where did the rope come from? And duct tape? And handcuffs? And again: why did his clothes disappear?
Megamind’s eye twitched with effort, and the back of his head perspired. He rubbed his forehead fiercely, trying to remember anything about yesterday’s evening.
* * *
It was dark. Yes, they came late at night. The stars swung for the last time, as Metro Man pulled him into the room through the open balcony door. Megamind didn’t close his eyes. On the contrary, he tried to focus on something to calm down the nausea. When his feet touched the floor, he couldn’t hold up, and fell on his knees. He barely managed to put his hands forward, so as not to hit the floor with his face. Then he scrambled to his feet, pressed his hands to his lips, and ran to the bathroom. He threw up terribly. So terribly, in fact, that he found it completely natural to use Metro Man’s shower. Was he in distress? Yes, he was. Every decent person wouldn’t deny such a small favor as a shower. And soap, and a loofah, and that enormous bathrobe that felt so cozy to be wrapped into.
Out of the shower, Megamind strode past Metro Man, who was watching him intently, muttered some barbed remark about the bathroom walls’ coloring, collapsed facedown on the bed, fumbled to Metro Man to feel free to take him– to take him to prison, and passed out. He could even send a puppy to his cell later, as a consolation prize.
At 3 a.m. the defender of Metro City had a fresh (for three in the morning) thought: that they both looked rather well together in the same bed. But something was lacking from the picture. For example, that his guest wasn’t tied down, handcuffed, or chained to the radiator. On the contrary, he was sleeping peacefully after having stolen the blanket from its owner. And it seemed he found it a matter of course. How dared he? It couldn’t go on like this, and only Metro Man could stop this unashamed villainy!
He got up. The abrupt movement sent a ringing to his head. With some difficulty he found his fluffy slippers with “M” monogram on them, and went to look for the suitable tools. His arch-enemy slept like a baby and was unaware of the imminent danger.
4 a.m. Blue wrists are pressed to the bed. The melted handcuffs and ropes are scattered around. On the hero’s shoulder there is an unheroic and unvillainous bite mark. The both rivals are breathing heavily and looking intensely into each other’s eyes. And both are gasping sincerely and simultaneously: “I hate you!”
* * *
“Oh. My. God”. Megamind stood in the middle of the room. It was a dream! Of course, it was a dream! He had to get out, quickly. He had to get to his den as quickly as possible and have a good sleep. Code: “No alcohol”.
Metro Man heard the door slam, half opened one eye and chuckled into his pillow. Everything was fine, he could stay in bed. Megamind was overdramatizing, as always.
When do we have the next Christmas?