Rapunzel's Life Begins

Painting

"OK, close your eyes," Rapunzel says, leading Eugene by the hand into their room.

He loves her excitement, her childlike enthusiasm for life. It's contagious.

"Open up," she says a moment later. Before him, he sees their moment dancing across the far wall. The lanterns swirl up in the sky, toward the ceiling, and they sit, holding hands, in a little boat, lost in each other. It's the most beautiful painting he's ever seen.

"You really do love me, don't you?" He says, so unlike Flynn Rider, so like Eugene.

"Of course, silly," Rapunzel says, pulling his goofy looking face down for a kiss. He supposes she's telling the truth; she married him after all.

Play Guitar

Eugene has had a day. It was long and tedious and about as annoying as any day can get.

That's why, when he walks into their bedroom, he almost feels faint. All that he wanted to do was bury his head in a pillow, like an ostrich. And, instead, his brown eyes grow wide, watching Rapunzel wearing a guitar and, well, nothing else.

"It's time for your lesson," Rapunzel says from their bed, her green eyes ever so mischievous.

He joins her there instantly, his bad day melting away. He sincerely doubts that she really ever learned how to play the guitar, but she certainly looks sexy strumming the strings.

Knitting

"All finished," Rapunzel says, handing Eugene a strange looking sock.

He looks at it in confusion. "Where's the other one?"
"It's not for your feet, silly," she responds with a glint in her eyes.

My God, what have I don't to her? Eugene wonders, fingering the yarn lustfully, not sure what to do next. Should be put it on? Throw it away? He only knows that things were much simpler back when he was a wanted thief.

Cooking

Rapunzel bends over, carefully taking the pie out of the oven.

"Ahhh," Eugene sighs, breathing it in. "You made us breakfast in bed."

Rapunzel looks at him confused. The pie is still hot, what's he talking about? Plus, it's early in the afternoon.

"Come on, I'll show you," he says, whisking her toward their bedroom. Rapunzel knows she will never look at pie the same way again.

Puzzles

They are putting together a puzzle, snapping the male ends to the female ends.

Rapunzel has a look of concentration that scares Eugene. She is biting her lip, determined.

"Here, try this," he says, slipping her a shape. She pushes it against the one she's holding and it locks immediately in place.

Eugene doesn't know why, but he's thinking about other things that lock into place, and hands her another.

Just hurry up, already, he thinks to himself. Click. Another perfect match.

Darts

"Whoa, Goldie," Eugene says, ducking behind a chair. They are at the Snuggly Duckling, and she's trying to show him how to play darts. Only, as that last one whisked by his head, missing his ear by an inch, Eugene's wondering if she really just wants to get rid of him so she can marry a real prince instead.

"Sorry, Eugene," she giggles, her face flushing a soft pink.

"You missed," Hookhand gruffs from the bar. His dark eyes travel over to Eugene, who's brushing his hair back from his forehead. He gets it, the man hates him. But you can't get rid of Flynn Rider that easily.

Baking

"Try one," Rapunzel invites, handing him a cookie. It looks delicious, but Eugene can't stop himself from licking the small bit of flour off of Rapunzel's top lip.

Which leads her to respond, licking his lips, plunging her tongue inside his mouth.

And they find themselves back in their bedroom, surrounded by trays cookies and an overcoming sugar rush.

Rapunzel thinks it's just like the pie all over again, and swears to bake more often.

Paper Mache

"Eugene," Rapunzel complains halfheartedly.

"What?" He asks, delicately resting another piece of wet paper over her. "You said I could use anything I wanted as a mold."

"But, I didn't mean me," she sighs. Her paper mache lesson wasn't turning out the way she has planned.

As he dipped another piece, Eugene decides that he's the luckiest man alive, married to a beautiful princess that he loved more than he knew. He would even die for her. Oh wait. He already did.

Ballet

"Here," she says, twirling into Eugene's arms. "Catch me."

This ballet thing is much easier without 70 feet of hair.

And he does catch her, but he's not going dance. So he distracts her, drawing her into his arms.

"But, Eugene," she moans, giving him her most pitiful pout. She really wanted to dance today. In her mind, she's a real life ballerina and he's the man who catches her in mid-flight.

And he can't help but go along with it. Sometimes, he's learning, it's just easier that way.

Chess

"Checkmate," Rapunzel says, clicking her queen against Eugene's king.

"What? Again?" He questions. Stupid game. She's beaten him like 23 times in the past 15 minutes.

"Well, you know the queen always comes out on top," Rapunzel teases.

"Oh believe me, I know," Eugene says, remembering last night as he pulls her over to sit on his lap and kisses her deeply like only a prince could.

Pottery

Eugene sits with his hands covered in cold, clammy clay. Rapunzel bends next to him, her hair brushing his cheek softly. Ever so softly, like a whisper.

"Like this," she says, guiding his hands over the mound. She helps him push and pull, teasing the shapeless form into something much more sensual. Much more warm.

She pauses for a minute, the closeness of him almost too powerful. And she moves her lips toward his, drawing him.

He kisses her back, harder now, not caring about the muddy handprints running up and down his back.

Ventriloquy

"You've got to be kidding me," Eugene says.

Pascal is sitting on Rapunzel's lap as she wiggles the reptile's tail up and down.

"Best husband ever," Pascal mouths.

Eugene groans and Pascal spits in disgust. Rapunzel couldn't look prouder.

Candle Making

"Now this one, I can see the benefit," Eugene is sitting with Rapunzel on the floor, dipping candles.

He watches her pump the wick into the wax, pumping it once, twice, over and over, as the candles girth grows.

"Hey," he says coolly, cocking his eyebrows together.

Rapunzel blushes, trying to ignore the warm fuzzy feeling that's heating up between her legs.

Stretch

This feels good, Eugene thinks. In front of him, Rapunzel is bending and twisting. Arms up, down. Who knew she could move like that? It's almost sexy. Well, it is, but he's supposed to be learning how to stretch.

He tries to follow, but his uncoordinated movements make Rapunzel laugh. God, she loves this idiot more than she ever thought possible.

He grins back at her, proud that he's doing so well.

Sketch

"Are you finished yet?" he asks. He is in bed, and not in a good way, according to Eugene.

"Stay still," Rapunzel commands from her chair.

She's whisking her pencil over the page in big, sweeping shapes.

Eugene listens and lies there until Rapunzel announces, "OK, what do you think?"

She turns the pad around and Eugene can't believe his eyes. Or should he say size! If that's what she sees, then no wonder she married him. Good God.

Take a Climb

Rapunzel wanted to show Eugene how she used to climb in the tower, but without her hair, it's impossible. So, the next morning, she crawls on top of him just as he starts to wake up.

"Good morning, sunshine," he says, smiling up at her.

"Hey," she answers, kissing his lips, thinking he's the most perfect, incorrigible man she's ever met. She'll explain later about the liberties she took with this one. She's sure he won't mind.

Sew a Dress

"No, no, no," Eugene says, backing out of the room. "There's no way I'm helping you."

Rapunzel is sitting at the table, surrounded by satin, needles, lace, and poor little Pascal is wearing a pink and frilly dress.

"You don't like it?" she says.

"How can you do that to him?" Eugene says. "Didn't you say he's male?"

Pascal nods in enthusiasm. He likes this guy of Rapunzel's more and more each day.

Read a Book

"And they all lived happily ever after," Rapunzel finishes, closing the book and letting it drop to the floor.

Eugene's lying next to her in bed, topless, his shirt resting on the chair. He moves his arm and she instantly buries her head into his shoulder. She can smell his scent, and it smells like home to her. His other arm drapes over her body, and he hugs her softly.

"I love that you always read me a bedtime story," he says huskily, kissing the top of her head.

"Mmmm," she whispers, knowing that she's living her own fairytale ending in his arms.