Note: Last "full" chapter, guys.

Some comments about this. One, yes, her dress is absolutely based on the Designer Edition Rapunzel doll. Two, has anyone else noticed that in "Tangled Ever After," they make out in front of the whole chapel for 15 seconds without pause? That is some serious PDA for the 17th/18th century. And I'm referencing that too in this. ;)

This may be a "non-ending ending" in one aspect, but for this particular story, it seemed somehow wrong to have everything tied off in a neat package. That's why I did what I did here.

Thanks so much for reading and supporting this story. It means a lot to me to receive the kind of support I did. And please stay tuned for the epilogue.

Chapter Twenty-One: Oaths

Rapunzel's grandmother adjusted her shoulder-length veil before the mirror inside the boat's cabin that she, Mrs. King, and Pascal were occupying to get her prepared. The boat had set off from the Georgetown waterfront park and was making its way slowly down the Potomac under a deep blue twilit sky, and the ceremony would begin soon. Flynn was already waiting on the deck, since Max—his best man—had finished with him.

She looked down at the dress she and Pascal had designed. The strapless bodice flared out in a ruffle at the top and bottom. The ruffle over her bosom looked at first glance as if it were the only fabric covering her, but in reality there was another, fitted layer below that that was hidden by it. The bottom ruffle, just over and below her waist, definitely hid the small bump that she now had from the growing baby. A palest lavender corset around her midsection, laced up only as tight as her natural figure, gave a smooth silhouette to her body, and a long, flowing skirt trailed below, with pale purple flowers and green vines to match her wedding cake trailing halfway up the skirt from the bottom hem. It was a rather simple design, yet there was a touch of 1950s-esque classicism to it.

"You look beautiful," Mrs. King gushed, brushing a tear out of her right eye as she admired Rapunzel. "Wouldn't you agree, Pascal?"

"Definitely," Pascal said, grinning from ear to ear. He himself was suited up in white, as he was going to be the one carrying the rings. He had refused to be called the "ring-bearer," saying that title was one for either a young child or a hobbit, and provoking peals of laughter from Rapunzel, the fantasy literature fan.

"But there's one last thing I meant to give you before you get married," Mrs. King said. She took a deep breath and opened a small velvet-covered jewelry box. "This was your mother's birthstone, and it was her favorite necklace as a girl... before my husband was elected to Congress," she said, taking it out and holding it up so Rapunzel could see. Her eyes grew wide and moist.

It was a thin, delicate chain of white gold, with a single charm on the chain of a six-petaled flower. The petals were made of what appeared to be topaz, and a small round diamond sparkled in the center.

"It's lovely," Rapunzel said, tears coming to her eyes. Pascal quickly brought her a tissue, and she dabbed at the corners before the makeup—the small amount she could stand to wear—started to run.

Mrs. King fastened it around her neck. She drew back and smiled. "I think you're all set now," she said huskily. "We'd better take our places."

When Rapunzel went out on her grandfather's arm and got her first glimpse, she could not help but notice what a strange party it was. The mostly large, burly protestors, all dressed up either in suits, or nice shirts and pants. Bryan Howard the agent, and Flynn's older middle-aged female editor, sitting somewhat nervously amidst this crowd. The stern-faced mustachio'd man who was the Kings' driver and foundation director. The photographers that the Kings had recommended from years of living in Washington. And then the small wedding party itself.

The boat was a moderately sized yacht, all white, the deck very well lit for a party. The flowers that Rapunzel and her friends had picked out decorated the deck. The cabin lights glittered amid the deepening twilight. The lights of the city reflected on the river, creating a beautiful ambience, and there was a light breeze in the crisp, but not too cool, late summer air. They were at Arlington, in the part of the river belonging to Virginia, and these were the lights of that vista of skyscrapers. Rapunzel smiled—no, beamed.

And then she saw it. A smaller, quicker boat cruised nearby. There was a flash of light. "A small boat with agents who will be giving you signals with a flashlight every so often to signify that all is well," Conli had said. This must be that boat. Rapunzel swallowed hard. She was glad to know that all was indeed well, but she really wished that thoughts of this hadn't intruded on their day. From the look on Flynn's face when she reached him, he had seen the flash too, but they quickly saw the concern vanish from each other's features as the minister began speaking.

She heard every word he said, but they did not really seem to register in her mind. The whole experience was a kind of sensory overload as she took in all the little details, fixing them in her memory. She clutched her bouquet so tightly that she was half afraid of breaking the stems and squeezing it in two. She loosened her grip a little bit and then noticed that Flynn was looking at her with some alarm. Then her gaze shifted ever so slightly.

Every eye was fixed on her, and the boat was entirely silent. For the briefest of moments, she wondered why that would be. Then suddenly, the words that had just been spoken three seconds ago—or, rather, their meaning—crashed into her brain. Oops.

"I do!" she exclaimed anxiously.

Relief passed over Flynn's face. He smirked and gave an almost imperceptible affectionate shake of his head.

She felt the simple wedding band slip onto her finger and slipped the larger one onto his hand.

"Then by the power vested in me by the commonwealth of Virginia, I pronounce you husband and wife."

The guests erupted into applause and the boat began to head back, but the couple hardly noticed any of that. In an almost greedy, yet very loving way, he leaned in and took her face in his hands, sliding one hand behind her head. She reached up for his as well. His lips touched hers briefly, then, as if by a kind of magnetism, he took the full plunge. His fingers tangled in her hair, locking her in place, as he parted her lips open with his tongue and began to plunder her mouth. It was electric. She could not believe he was doing this, but her astonishment didn't stop her from giving it right back. For easily twenty uninterrupted seconds, they leaned into each other in a battle of dominance, which he quickly won. Still holding her, still exploring every corner of her mouth, he leaned forward with her. She half wondered if, right in front of everyone, he was going to pull her down on the deck and—

But then he broke the kiss and pulled away. His eyes were fiery and gleaming. He took a deep breath and smirked at her. She grinned back.

As they faced the guests and the wedding party, the first thing they noticed was the look of distaste in Pascal's face. He was flushed deep red. Max looked none too at ease either, though with him the expression was more awkwardness. Rapunzel felt a little guilty, but no one else seemed put off, just somewhat awed. So she let out a sheepish, but happy, little laugh. That put the guests at ease. They started to clap again.

Shortly the cakes and reception food were brought out as the boat continued its trek back to Georgetown. Laughing giddily, Rapunzel cut the cake that matched her dress—though not until it had been photographed from every angle—and she and Flynn prepared to feed each other the first slices. There was more clapping and laughing at this spectacle, as it was not easy to balance the pieces of cake when the boat was moving at a fairly brisk clip.

Someone uncorked the champagne, unleashing a fountain that shined and glittered in the twilight, and Flynn immediately went for that, almost comically pushing himself in front of the group gathering to get a glass of it. Rapunzel could not have any, of course, but she contented herself with ginger ale and laughed at her new husband as he drank flute after flute of the champagne and become more talkative with every one.

"Have you tried the cheeses?" Rapunzel overheard Max asking him.

"Not yet—" Flynn began to say, sloshing his current glass—Rapunzel was pretty sure it was his fourth—around.

One of the protestors ribbed him, interrupting him and making him lose his footing and have to grab at a table. "Naw, he obviously just wants to feast on her mouth," Hooke said slyly.

"Don't remind me," Pascal muttered, taking a sip of his champagne and shuddering, as Flynn turned bright red.

Rapunzel decided that it would be a good idea to steer her grandparents away from that whole conversation. Taking their arms in hers, she stepped over to the refreshments and got some more ginger ale. Her grandparents stuck to ginger ale as well in solidarity with her.

"You know," Mr. King remarked, "there were some flashes along the way coming from this other boat, before the vows. They stopped coming when we got to Arlington. I wonder what that was about. I would've thought the captain would be able to get any information he needed about the conditions without needing any kind of scout, and it's such a nice night anyway that I don't know what he could want."

Rapunzel suddenly felt a bad feeling settling in her stomach, a feeling that had no right to intrude on this day. "You said these lights stopped coming in Arlington? You're sure about that?"

"I didn't see any after that. I was wondering if the people making them were going to follow us back, so I watched."

Rapunzel frowned and glanced around the deck. All of a sudden, she felt that they were far too exposed—and she really didn't like how Flynn was so visibly and audibly acting the life of the party, what with all that champagne in him. Trying to remove the frown of concern from her face, she walked over to him.

"We need to have a private conversation," she said to the protestors, who were seemingly egging him on.

"Oooh, private," said the largest one of the bunch, the one called Vladamir. "Right. Gotcha." With much snickering, the group backed away and headed back to the food.

She pulled Flynn down and whispered in his ear. "Did you see any flashes coming back from Arlington?"

He frowned. "Come to think of it, no, I didn't," he admitted. "But I might not have been paying attention."

"My grandfather didn't see any either, and he was paying attention."

He frowned. "You think—"

"I think we need to be careful. You especially," she said, pointedly looking at the half-empty glass he held in hand. "How many have you had, anyway?"

"This is my fifth. I can hold more than you ever could even when you were allowed to drink," he added as she scowled disapprovingly. "Just this last one and I'll quit," he said, grinning and making wide eyes at her.

"All right. But no more," she said, smiling in spite of herself. He was so cute when he looked like this.

Despite the tension that was now curled up in Flynn and Rapunzel's stomachs, seemingly waiting to spring, nothing untoward happened either on the rest of the trip back to Georgetown or the dance at the hotel—except that the signals definitely did not appear again. However, the newlyweds were too giddy, for the most part, to let this bother them. Rapunzel insisted that Flynn have more reception food to soak up the champagne, and he did not object. When the boat docked at the waterfront again, there was one last piece of reception business that needed to be conducted. Rapunzel ordered all the protestors and her two best friends into a group and tossed out her bouquet. To everyone's surprise except perhaps hers, the smallest person in the group caught it. Pascal turned bright red as he gripped the flowers, as did Max, and the entire group hooted. They headed gleefully toward the designated hotel to have the dance.

Rapunzel even forgot all about the flashing when Flynn began whirling her around expertly on the floor, giving her quite a workout. The baby grand piano in the ballroom was played, to everyone's surprise, by Hooke the protestor and veteran, and he cranked out number after catchy number.

"I didn't know you could dance like this," she gasped in between songs as their guests applauded.

"Well, I seem to recall asking you to dance the first night I ever saw you, but you said no," he hissed into her ear.

Rapunzel blushed at the memory. She would have to dance with him more often now that she knew how good he was.

Hooke started up another song, and they couldn't help but look pleased as Max and Pascal began to dance for this one, as well as her grandparents, to Rapunzel's amazement. Mr. King had a bit of a time dancing with his walking stick, and she was a little worried about the exertion, but he seemed to be all right and took it slowly.

Finally they were all exhausted, however, and ready to head home—or, in the case of the Kings, to their suite just six floors above them in the hotel. The Kings' assistant and Flynn's publishing friends also had rooms there. Max and Pascal didn't have too far to travel either, and according to the protestors, they all lived around the city and in Maryland not too far from public transportation. But Flynn and Rapunzel had to get out to Fairfax. Fortunately, the Kings had foreseen that he would be in no condition to drive, and they had arranged for a limo to take them out there. The little party broke up and those who were leaving the hotel began heading out. Flynn and Rapunzel, as was traditional, were the first to scurry out, but not before the protestor group had lifted both of them up on their shoulders with ribald hoots and catcalls.

Flynn, however, was still tipsy enough that this didn't bother him. As they set the pair of them down, he turned to Rapunzel and grabbed her hand possessively. He gave her a wink and a grin. Despite her embarrassment, she couldn't help but grin back. Holding hands, they waved goodbye to the party and scampered out of the ballroom.

Rapunzel felt giddy as she walked down the corridor of the hotel. A nearly constant smile had filled her face for the whole evening, disappearing only when she was worried about the signals, and only briefly even then. She touched the new ring on her finger and hummed a riff from the last dance number softly to herself, barely aware of her surroundings, except for the pressure of her husband's hand around hers.

Suddenly, as they passed by a corner, the pressure was lost.

"Rapunzel!" he exclaimed desperately as he was yanked away from her. She whirled around just in time to see him being dragged down another corridor by—her heart skipped a beat—one of the Stabbington brothers. The thug clamped a hand over Flynn's mouth to keep him from shouting. Down the hallway she saw a door to a room held open by the other Stabbington.

She didn't think about how it would make her a potential target. She didn't care about that. All she could think was that this could not be happening. No! Not now, not ever again! she screamed in her mind.

"Flynn!" she shouted as loud as she could, hoping that someone, anyone, from their party would hear her.

The Stabbington brother at the door began to dash down the hall, apparently to grab her and silence her, but she heard footsteps from the ballroom she had just left. Vladamir, the largest protestor, reached Rapunzel just as the criminal did. With a single violent smash to the head, Vladamir knocked the criminal out cold. He collapsed unconscious on the thinly carpeted floor. While Rapunzel stood in mute shock, Vladamir got down and immediately began looking for a gun or a knife concealed on the thug.

A group of three more protestors came barreling down the hallway where the other Stabbington brother still held Flynn. She watched as they pummeled the captor, freeing Flynn and knocking that thug unconscious as well. Flynn stood up shakily and stared at his wife in disbelief.

"FBI! Police!"

They whirled around and saw a group of suited agents rushing frantically down the main hallway, guns drawn. At the head of the pack was none other than J. D. Conli. Flynn rushed to Rapunzel's side as the agents arrived and took her hand. She squeezed his hand back tightly.

"Is anyone hurt?" one of the agents cried out in alarm.

"Only those two bastards," Vladamir said, referring to the Stabbingtons.

A pair of agents handcuffed the Stabbingtons, and several agents began to frisk the unconscious thugs for weapons and other paraphernalia. The Kings and the rest of the wedding guests emerged from the ballroom, startled by the commotion. As the police and FBI carted off the pair of criminals, Conli remained. Flynn stared at him, his features hardening as the man looked down at his shoelaces.

"Well?" Flynn finally said. "I think we deserve an explanation."

Conli began to stammer incoherently.

Flynn glared in growing fury as Conli mumbled and stammered before him. "Okay, how about a straight answer to a direct question. How did they even get inside the hotel?" he exclaimed. "You didn't have any better of a grasp on the situation than that?"

Conli continued to mumble as he turned deep red. He could not meet Flynn's eyes.

Suddenly something occurred to Flynn, something that would make a lot of sense of Conli's embarrassment. "No, wait a minute," he said as a memory flooded his mind, a memory of another conversation at another time.

"He set up a sting and the guy took the bait."

"Then why do you—"

"Because the sting very nearly resulted in several civilians being killed."

"This was just a sting that got out of your hands, wasn't it?" Flynn snarled. "You used our wedding as bait, didn't you? You tried to draw them in." He made to grab the man's jacket in fury but quickly had second thoughts about assaulting an FBI agent. He backed away, breathing heavily, as Rapunzel stood by his side. She took his hand and began to stroke it, hoping to calm him down. But truth be told, she was angry with Conli herself for letting this happen during their special event.

Conli finally met Flynn's eyes. Defensiveness filled his own. "It's nothing that the Bureau hasn't done before, Rider," he snapped. "We had everything under control."

Flynn peered at the man. "You're a damned liar," he said flatly.

Rapunzel's grandparents gasped at his nerve, but Max glared back along with Flynn. Pascal gave him an uneasy look before joining Max and Flynn. Finally, Rapunzel stared out at the agent with the same disapproving look.

"Something went wrong out there, didn't it?" Flynn continued, still keeping Conli's gaze locked with his own. "When your people stopped signaling. And whatever it was, you had to play catch-up from that moment on."

Conli glowered back at Flynn. His silence was all the confirmation any of them needed.

"Where's Facilier, Conli?" Max suddenly asked.

Conli dropped his gaze again and mumbled something under his breath.

"What?" Flynn said loudly, though he was sure he knew the substance of what he was to hear. "Speak up. We can't hear you."

"We lost him," Conli said in a slightly more audible tone.

"You lost him," Flynn said, not sounding surprised at all. "And how is it that you lost him when you had him in custody?"

"We were expecting the Stabbingtons to be in Arlington," Conli admitted. "That's what the conversations were suggesting, so we let him walk around to supposedly rendezvous with them and then close in and get 'em. That was the plan."

"But he got away, and they weren't there at all, were they?" Rapunzel spoke up. She was surprised at her own daring.

"He went in an office building with a parking garage attached. Our people followed after him... but somehow he got out of there, in a getaway car, without being seen. By the time we realized what must've happened, it was too late. They checked the cars leaving that place, but he was already gone."

"Then he had another accomplice," Flynn said. "Whoever it was, they must have planned all along to double-cross the Stabbingtons."

Conli nodded glumly. "It was definitely a double-cross. He wanted the nine million for himself. Once we realized what had happened, we divided up the team... most of them were assigned to protect your wedding party, because the venue was public information and the Stabbingtons could easily know about it."

"I'm glad to know that," Flynn said mockingly. "Good to know that you fellows made protecting civilians your priority rather than chasing down the one who clearly just wanted to get away." He paused. "I don't suppose you have any idea who the accomplice was."

Conli bristled. "Actually, we do, but that doesn't help us. His real name is Lawrence Butler, but he's a something of a specialist in identity theft, disguise, and forgery, so he's hard to catch. We've been trying to nail him for years. He was their man for fake ID and stolen identities."

"Wait a minute," Flynn said. "If that's what he did for them, then surely Facilier would have told you about him in questioning, at least mentioned his name, even though you obviously didn't figure out they had plans for tonight."

"He did, I assure you, Rider, but we had no hint about this."

Flynn heaved a sigh. "Perfect. I assume you have no idea where they are now."

"I'm sure they're heading out of the country. He's probably going back to the Bahamas to get a hold of that money."

Flynn gave an exasperated look to the man. "Look, Conli... I agree that Facilier was only in this for himself and isn't going to come after me or my family again. He's not as big on stupid revenge as the Stabbingtons are, and he's not a hothead like they are. I understand that sort of mind a lot better than I wish I did," he said darkly. "I'm not afraid that he'll come back into this country to try to get us, and I don't even know who the other guy is. But you're acting like you're perfectly okay with these two getting away as long as they don't come back to the country."

"We're not going to stop looking for them," Conli said determinedly. "We're already planning to look at the passenger lists for international flights out of Dulles Airport. We're the FBI, Rider, and don't forget that. It is our job." He puffed out his chest self-importantly.

Flynn was not impressed. "You couldn't keep him when you had him, Conli."

A sneer briefly formed on the agent's face, but he quickly erased it from his features. "I assure you this. We're through cutting deals with any of this lot. That's the only reason he escaped. We trusted that he was sincere. We were mistaken."

"Well, at least you learn from your screw-ups." Flynn's tone was not snide. He sounded sincere.

They regarded each other thoughtfully. Finally Conli shoved his hat on his head and stuck out a hand to Flynn. "I've got to get back on the case and deal with those two. Congratulations to you about tonight, both of you. And... sorry about what happened." He trudged off, getting into a black Bureau car and heading out.

The remainder of the wedding party looked at each other. No one seemed to know quite what to say.

Finally Mr. King spoke. "I, uh... the car's still waiting. It's probably best if you try to put that out of your minds. It's over. Don't let it spoil today for you in your memories."

Rapunzel nodded. Flynn looked reluctant at first, but finally he nodded too. Putting an arm around her waist, he walked stiffly with her out to the waiting limousine.

They had privacy in the limo, so once they were on their way, they quickly fell into each other's arms and began to make out. Rapunzel wanted very much to forget what had just happened, and she had a feeling, from the intensity with which Flynn was kissing and groping her, that he did too. But finally the elephant in the room could no longer be avoided, and they surfaced from the deep kiss and regarded each other with serious looks.

She spoke first. "You really think he'll stay down in the Caribbean and leave us alone?" she said uneasily.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, facing up to the subject. "Yes," he said, opening his eyes again. "I do. I think that either they did somehow try to keep him from getting into that nine million and he wanted to get them out of the picture, or else he decided he was just sick of dealing with them and wanted it all to himself. They've had friction in the past," he added. "He's a plotter and a schemer, and they operate on gut instinct. It was problematic for trading and problematic for sketching out plans with the lobbyists, and I'm sure it's been a problem for their criminal activities too. I'm not worried about him coming back. He'll stay down there and enjoy the money rather than come after us for no reason but petty revenge and risk getting caught." He massaged his temple.

"Then what's wrong?" she asked, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Something still bothers you."

He looked up at her with unhappy eyes. "Yes, something does bother me. He's a greedy S. O. B., and if they don't find him, what's to stop him from setting up shop in the tropics and abusing women again or swindling people or whatever?"

Rapunzel took his hands and looked sadly up at his face. Her gentle expression had a calming effect on him before she even spoke.

"Flynn, sweetheart, you're only human. You can't save everyone."

"But giving up on any sort of idealism was what turned me into such a selfish ass in the first place," he protested.

"You don't have to do that either," she said. "You can focus on the people you can protect and take care of."

Flynn knew that she was right. He nodded silently in assent and drew his newlywed wife close, letting one hand trail down her gown to her stomach. She smiled at this tender touch and leaned in to kiss him again. They didn't break apart again this time until the limo had stopped at the condo complex to let them out.

They headed through the revolving glass door into the fancy lobby, laughing softly and exchanging quick, intense kisses. Several people hanging out in the lobby whistled at them, but they ignored this. Holding on to each other's waists, they stumbled into the elevator and headed up to the top floor. They watched the breathtaking view of the lobby through the glass panels as they ascended.

When the doors opened, he scooped her up in his arms and gave her yet another kiss. She smirked and threw her arms around his neck. He walked down the hall, carrying her, and unlocked the front door. His face now bore an expression of the utmost wickedness, and they were both breathing rather heavily with anticipation.

Keeping her in his arms, he carried her through the condo into the bedroom. Right before he set her down, he turned to her with a deliciously greedy smirk on his face.

"My love... tonight I'm going to make you forget that this isn't our first time."

Her heart raced and her blood flowed faster. "Oh, are you?" she teased.

"I am." He set her down on the bed and climbed on it himself.

"It'll be really something if you can manage that," she said, a gleam in her eye.

He kissed her deeply, holding her close. "Darling," he growled against her lips, "I promise you, I can manage it." He peered back at her with that same dashing smirk across his face. "After all, convincing people is what I do best."