#it's not a bad start! but it wasnt overly relevant to the fic i thought

[darks-ink]

By the way, here’s about 740 words that I cut from the start of Surreptitious, all the way when I first started writing it, because I didn’t like it as a start for the fic. Reduced the Hal content of Surreptitious by as much as I could. :’D But I figured I might as well post it somewhere. I haven’t re-read this to check for errors, typos, and clunky sentences (since I cut it early on) so head’s up, those might be present.

---

Roxanne’s fist curled around the microphone she was holding. Hal’s camera hovered in front of her as she spoke, steadily. Her script, she knew from memory. She had written it herself, after all. It had grown dark around them, but it suited the atmosphere, she thought.

“He was always there for us,” she said, her voice stable thanks to years of professionalism. “Dependable. Perhaps we took him for granted.” Her voice caught a little as she continued, “Maybe… we never really know how good we have it until it’s gone.”

She paused to take a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh. “We miss you, Metro Man. I… miss you.”

“And I have just one question for Megamind,” she couldn’t resist adding. He always watched her shows in the past, she knew. And maybe… maybe he didn’t anymore, now that he ruled the city. But there was always a chance. “Are you happy now?”

Having run through her script, she rounded off her segment with a slight twist on her usual. “This is Roxanne Ritchi, reporting from a city without a hero. Coming up next, are you ready to be a slave army? What you need to know.”

She gestured at Hal to cut, and the blinding lights shut off immediately. Overly cheerfully, too cheerfully for the situation, he grinned. “And… wrap that up and give it to a child on Christmas! ‘Cause we’re done.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Hal.” She turned around, walking up the steps to the museum. It wouldn’t be long until it closed, she knew, but… she wanted to check it out. It might’ve been silly, but… Wayne had been proud of it, of some of the exhibits. And she was too busy during the day to come check it out.

“Wait, Roxie.” Hal followed her up the steps, dropping his camera lower. “I’m having a party at my house. It’s gonna be off the hook or whatever,” he continued on, apparently encouraged by the fact that she had stopped to face him. “You should come over. I got a DJ, rented a bouncy house, made a gallon of dip. It’s gonna be sick.”

Roxanne resisted the urge to grimace at his attempt at a smooth grin. Hal was… urgh. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer. And sure, she and Wayne hadn’t actually been together, but no one knew so. So as far as Hal knew, she had just lost her partner of several years. Couldn’t he just leave her alone?

“Oh, I don’t know, Hal,” she said, shooting him a disarming smile. “I don’t really feel like being around a bunch of people.” Or any, really, take the hint! To make it even clearer, she went up another step, distancing herself.

But Hal just followed her up, scrambling for words. “No, no, no. That’s the best part. It’ll just be like you and me.”

He grinned, wide, and she felt her mouth drop open. Wow. Did this guy really not… not realize how creepy he was being? “Wow, that um. That’s certainly very tempting, but…”

“I did hire a wedding photographer,” Hal interrupted her, “That’s just in case we were like, something crazy happened and we wanted a picture of it. Like “maybe we should have this for like ever”. Like a memory, you know?”

“Um. I’m gonna pass.” She scrambled for an excuse, knowing that Hal wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise. She really needed to report this guy to HR, or something. It was inexcusable, really. “I have some… work here, that I need to do anyway.” She passed him the cordless microphone, ascending a few more steps.

“Cool,” Hal said as he took it, backing a few steps down. “So Thursday? Soft Thursday?”

“Good night, Hal.” She waved, as well, resisting the urge to shoo him off.

“That’s a soft yes on Thursday,” he concluded, reaching the back of the van. He turned around, and grateful to have finally escaped the conversation, she did too. Now all she needed was an excuse to get out of this made-up party on Thursday.

She studiously ignored the sounds of his whisper-shouting as he loaded the van. In fact, she didn’t turn around until she heard the sound of a fist hitting metal, followed up with, “Stupid van! You broke my finger!”

Roxanne watched him drive off with the news van, tires peeling as he barely avoided a streetlight. That was… concerning.