This may be the last chapter for a while, as the last chap/epilogue of sorts isn't really written yet. This is basically the conclusion of the story, so I guess I'll take this time to say thank you to all the wonderful readers who have followed this story and supported me in any way, whether by leaving reviews, favourites, alerts or just reading. It's the sense of community that makes fanfiction a very special thing, and without being overly sentimental I want to get across how much it really means to me as a writer that other people read and enjoy my stories. You're all rockstars =D

Flynn Wanted

~17~

After a wash, shave, and discovering he has a face – a very nice face, might he add – underneath all the stubble, Eugene feels very much more like a person again. He hasn't any clean clothes to change into, but the guest room he's made use of is stocked with a rather comfortable bathrobe, and he's sure he can pull the look off until he gets home.

He knows better than to think he can leave without saying goodbye to Rapunzel, so sets off in search of her, wandering semi-aimlessly along corridors in a direction he feels like should be the right one. He eventually begins to cover familiar ground, and soon finds her emerging from her own room.

"Eugene!" she squeaks excitedly, running over to envelop him in a hug, sprinkling him with water from her still-drying hair. She reaches for his face, her fingertips trailing all the way down his chin. "You shaved!"

"It's been known to happen," he replies, rather enjoying the renewed bout admiration. From Rapunzel's shoulder, unsuccessfully attempting to dodge drips of water left, right and centre, Eugene spots Pascal. "Oh, and look who's back," he remarks, waggling a finger at the chameleon.

"He was waiting for me in my room," she explains. "He's been spying on the guards for us."

"He has?" Eugene questions scathingly, a sarcastic humour to his voice. "Then what happened to any kind of warning before the Captain gave me a knuckle sandwich, eh?" His accusation turns the lizard a bashful shade of pink, but Eugene chuckles and tickles a finger under Pascal's chin. "No hard feelings," he tells the lizard. "Reginald punches like a girl anyway. No offense," he adds with a flash of a grin at Rapunzel, who only rolls her eyes. It's after her hands fall from their examination of Eugene's face, to rest over his collarbone, that she takes notice of the change to his attire.

"Um, Eugene," she starts hesitantly, "... what are you wearing?"

"What, this?" he scoffs suavely. "Just a little something I threw on, I'm trying out a new look." Rapunzel holds his gaze with a great deal of uncertainty, and then raises a hand to press against his forehead, as if to check for a fever. "I'm joking!" he cuts in, swatting her away. "All my clothes are filthy," he explains with a great deal less bravado. "I'm just going to wear this home until I can change." It was pushing towards evening anyway, so he'd probably go home for the night – while he'd like to return and see Francis, he gets the impression the boy would tell him to shove off and leave him alone. He

Eugene realises he can't make up years of absence by being around always, so for now there isn't much he can do. Rapunzel takes the information in, and then for an undiscernable reason her cheeks suddenly flush bright red.

"Wait, Eugene," she says shyly, removing her hands from his chest where they were quite happily resting. "Are you... I mean... you're... naked under there?"

"Wha-? No!" he rushes, and pulls back enough of the robe to demonstrate he's still clothed from the waist; however, Rapunzel's eyes never go any lower than his torso.

"Oh," she murmurs, eyes practically burning a hole through his coincidentally-bare chest. "Of course."

"Hey, my face is up here," he teases, and she only blushes harder. He laughs hard, closing the robe again lest anyone walk past and discover him casually flashing the princess, and then ruffles her hair. "So where are the-" he begins.

"Momanddad saidthey'dbe inthefamilyroom," Rapunzel chatters awkwardly, then hears herself and her eyes widen. She pushes her hands against her cheeks as if she can force the colour out of them that way, but Eugene putting an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead doesn't help at all.

"You're too cute sometimes," he chuckles. "Come on, let's get you to dear mum and dad." He's sure the King and Queen would like some quality time with their re-returned daughter.

"Will you come too?" she asks hopefully, but he shakes his head.

"I'll take a rain check," he declines politely – as much as he loves her, he can't monopolise all of her time. "I'm gonna head home, I've got a lot of things to think about."

"Oh," she replies, a little concerned, but not grief-stricken; she understands that her world isn't going to stop when he's not there, that even if they part they're still together. "All right. Will you be back tomorrow?"

"You betcha I will," he replies warmly; no judge of any standing is going to be deciding punishments for Francis without his being present. "Okay, I'll see you soon," he adds finally, and when Rapunzel steps forwards, rising on the balls of her feet and slipping her arms around his neck, he realises he isn't going to get away without one hell of a goodbye kiss. While he loves her always-growing confidence, it is a severe test of his self-restraint, and the past few days feel like they've pulled them even closer together.

His hands join around her back, pulling her against him as he tilts his head and jumps straight in, tasting her mouth, sharp and tangy with whatever she's brushed her teeth with. As usual, he pulls away first – before he loses all control over his mind and body, and acidentally-on-purpose elopes with her. Holding her far away enough not to kiss her again, but close enough to still feel her breath on his lips, he rests his forehead against hers.

"I don't know how you do it," he murmurs quietly, wringing out their last moment for everything he can get.

"Do what?" she replies, idly picking threads from his robe, completely relaxed in his arms.

"Uh... no, it sounds stupid," he evades, and the delicate fingertips skittering across his chest turn violent, pinching him. "Ow," he yelps "That was uncalled for!"

"What is it?" she insists; Eugene steps back a little further and tweaks her nose.

"Just... that.. I love you," he answers at last. "That's all you need to know." What he'd like to say was that no matter how much he thinks he loves her, she always finds some way to make it more –even when he doesn't believe it to be possible. He knows that the capacity to love is meant to be endless, but he's crossed what he thought to be his limits so many times he ought to learn line dancing for the next time he skips across the boundaries.

"Oh," she meeps. "Well, I love you too." She states it uneventfully, like remarking upon the weather or what colour her dress is. For her it is ordinary, she tells most things that she loves them freely, including spiders and her pudding at meal times, but that doesn't mean he doubts her sincerity; she's shown him more with actions than she could ever express with words.

"Mhm," he murmurs, resting a hand under her jaw and dotting his lips over hers in a quick, chaste kiss. "You'd better go," he warns. They have to call it quits sometime.

"Okay, okay, I'm going," she insists, yet doesn't move.

"Well?" he prompts.

"Well what?" she retorts. "You go first."

"What? No, you go-" he starts, and then realises how silly their conversation is; were Flynn Rider real, he would be trying to knock Eugene out with a frying pan for desecrating his image. "We'll both go," he amends, "at the same time."

"Right. On the count of three," she prepares, and then counts them off; when she hits zero, Rapunzel leaps back dramatically, throwing up her arms, and Eugene can't help bursting out in laughter again.

"You're one of a kind, princess," he chuckles as the hysteria fades, and reaches out to ruffle a hand through her hair one last time. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," she says sweetly, and presses her palm to her mouth, blowing him a kiss. Eugene looks around cautiously, making sure no one is watching, and then mimes catching it.

While he does get a few strange looks on the way home, he decides to himself that's just because of his chiselled good looks and daring style – that bathrobes are going to be the next big trend in no time. However, when he arrives home, he remembers the state his rooms were left in, and although he did have the thought to make sure the lock was repaired, there is still a great ugly scrawl over his wall, courtesy of Francis. He sighs, as there's nothing he can do about it tonight, and is forced to attempt sleep with the word traitor staring down over him.

Needless to say, he wakes wracked with guilt, half-awake nightmares of horrifying sentences and Francis's doom, tormenting him from bed at an unsociably early hour. He puts on his first fresh set of clothes in about a week, and would make a beeline straight for the palace, if he didn't realise that no one else will be awake, and it only spells hours of waiting around on the edge of his seat. So he makes for the Orphanage instead, to inform Aunt Aya of the developments. She takes the news remarkably well and gives him breakfast – or what's left of it, then moans at him for the best part of an hour about various troubles, from difficult children to money worries.

Eugene leaves a little relieved to have his ear back, and by which time it's reached a reasonable hour to show his face at the castle. He strolls in, nodding to the passing guards smugly, basking in the glow of their resentment – their charges against him all disproven, his place in the palace still secure. When he arrives at the cells, expecting to see no one, or perhaps the odd guard, he discovers Rapunzel outside, bunched up in a huddle on the floor, pulling nervously on the lowest strands of her hair, completely alone.

"Hey," he greets worrisomely. "Are they in there already?" She shakes her head. "Then why are you-"

"Waiting," she finishes quietly. "I'm just waiting." She holds her hands over her feet, wrapping round her toes to keep them warm – perhaps they will be able to persuade her into shoes when the winter really sets in, starting with slippers and working up.

"For how long?" he questions; he knows how early she rises, and it pains him to think of her curled up motionless against a wall for hours, but she just shrugs.

"Dunno," she murmurs. "The door's locked, so I can't get in." Eugene resists the urge to sigh, and offers her a hand to stand up; she looks helpless, and he hates it – she should be happy, energetic, bursting with a contagious curiosity and joy. Rapunzel lets him help her to her feet, and only realises how cold she's gotten when she feels how warm he is. He notices too, and clasps both her hands together, rubbing them roughly between his, then bringing them to his mouth to blow on.

"Any colder and we'd have to thaw you out," he jokes, but he's worried too, and can't quite make the line fly. She gives him a doe-eyed look, saying nothing, but he's fairly sure he knows what she wants. Eugene dips in and gives her a quick peck, but leaves it at that – he isn't exactly in the mood to get hot and heavy, which she hopefully understands.

They wait together, not exchanging many words, keeping a safe distance in expectation of the King, Captain and an unknown Judge to appear at any moment. He's not sure if it's because of Francis, or that he's had a fair share of alone-time with Rapunzel in the past few days, but Eugene feels calmer in her presence, less like he wants to grab her every other minute, crush her against him to remind himself she it isn't a dream or joke, a fevered-hallucination as he lies bleeding out on a tower floor.

Soon voices and footsteps announce the arrival of the King and a heavy-set man, walking heavily on a cane, his face bruised and yellowing. Eugene hears Rapunzel gasp next to him, shocked with the evidence of Francis's handiwork, and even he's taken aback, ashamed to have had any part to play in such violence.

"Ah, you pre-empt our arrival, I see," the King remarks in a low, even voice. "Judge Gabel – I present my daughter, and her... I mean, and Eugene Fitzherbert," he decides upon uncertainly. The Judge pulls a long face and peers at Eugene quizzically.

"Who is he?" he questions, and Eugene breathes a slight sigh of relief – final proof of his innocence, at last.

"He's-" the King and Rapunzel both start.

"I'm a friend to Francis," he butts in before either can go any further. "Well, more than a friend, I guess," he amends. "You could kinda, uh..."

"You are his guardian?" the Judge suggests.

"Well not exact... I mean, in a way you could... let's say yes," he concludes awkwardly.

"Very good," the Judge declares. "I was hoping to find you here, I'd like your approval on what I decide is to become of this lad."

"Francis," Eugene corrects bitterly. "His name is Francis."

"I've no doubt it is," the man replies brightly, but soon his chest wheezes, betraying his forceful front, and he leans on his stick. "My doctor advises me to make this visit short," he breaths slowly. "So we best get it on with." He holds out an arm to lead the way in, and suddenly Rapunzel is beside it.

"Mr. Judge sir!" she chirps. "Would it be all right if I came along too?"

"Princess?" he queries bluntly. "This seems to be quite the spectacle we're running here." The judge looks across to the King, who nods his consent – he has already learned that it is nearly impossible to keep his daughter from what she wants, so it's best to grant her requests and save himself the trouble. "Oh all right," the judge coughs. "The more the merrier, I suppose."

Although Eugene goes in with a sour demeanour, more than ready to fight over whatever horrible punishment the Judge can concoct to wreak vengeance on Francis, he simply takes a chair and speaks to the boy for a good long while. They talk of the crime, as expected, but also of what led up to it and what occurred after – discussing in not insignificant detail Eugene and Rapunzel's involvement too – and then of things that seem unrelated. The orphanage, where Francis works, what his interests are. Rapunzel is practically falling asleep on Eugene's shoulder by the time the King coughs loudly and nudges the Judge into drawing his interview to a close, whereupon the man announces his decision.

"Francis McCormick, for the wrongs you have committed," he begins in a clear, even tone, "I would compel you to offer reparation to those you harmed – namely, myself. As you have no wealth to speak of, and I no desire for it, I will instead take my dues in form of your time and labour."

"Huh? So you want me to-" Francis interjects uncertainly.

"Work for me, essentially," the Judge finishes. "If you are pennant for your crimes, I see no need to separate you from a society you are no longer a threat to, and I will need help on my estate until my health has improved again. It seems only fair the one to cause the ill should aid in the mending."

"Is that... all?" asks the boy disbelievingly.

"All?" the Judge laughs. "You clearly have no concept of what it takes to run an estate and legal office, my boy. In a month you will be begging me for the comfort and calm of a prison cell." He turns to Eugene, who has perked up as the final decision was announced, but was otherwise far more engaged in toying with Rapunzel's hair and resisting any urges to kiss her in front of her father. "I trust this is all right with you, Mister Fitzherbert?"

"Well... it sounds okay to me," he answers; for all he was ready to fight, the Judge genuinely seems to have been fair and understanding. To study under one of the most respected judges in the Kingdom could be considered an opportunity, not a punishment.

"I would stipulate, however," Gable adds seriously, "one restriction." Eugene tenses, feeling the catch like a fish-hook – he knew it sounded too good to be true. "A parole keeper," is all the Judge says, "to ensure you keep to your word to make good. Mister Fitzherbert? Would it be too bold to place such a task upon you?"

"Uh...what," he clips in uneloquent surprise. "You mean, as in seriously mean... me?" he queries, checking that the judge has just asked an ex-famous-thief to be parole for a recent copy-cat.

"I cannot think of another party more suitable," he remarks, and then without ceremony, the King jangles a key into the lock and sets Francis free. "I expect to see you at my door at dawn tomorrow," the Judge tells Francis sternly. "You recall where it is?" Francis flushes in embarrassment and nods.

"Yes, sir," Francis replies.

"Francis," the King adds gently, "you must understand that if the terms of this arrangement are broken, a more serious sentence will be made?"

"I understand, Your Highness," Francis answers. "I'll work hard, I promise. And... thank you, all of you," he finishes, turning around the room to Eugene and Rapunzel.

"For what?" Rapunzel pipes up suddenly, startling Eugene, whose knee she very-almost perches on.

"For everything," Francis replies bashfully. "For helping... for understanding... for... for, just for caring," he gushes, and Eugene shuffles Rapunzel away from him to get up, setting a hand on Francis's shoulder. There are so many things he wants to say; that it's nothing, that he swore he'd look out for Francis and he always will, that they're family, and that's what family do – that he'll do everything he can to make things right, that he loves him.

But somehow the words don't come out; however, Francis looks up at him with bright green eyes – not too dissimilar from Rapunzel's – and Eugene gets the impression he understands.

"So," the King chimes in brightly. "Breakfast?"

End... ish.

So that's the end of sorts. I hope it isn't too sudden or leave too much unresolved for people. It's a bit of a silly end but it seems hard to draw it off anywhere, plus there will still be an epilogue type thing to tie off the whole package with a proper sense of finale.

Thanks again to everyone who has read and stuck with this story, if you feel like leaving a review I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts on how things have played out. A lot of people have questioned what would happen to Francis, so I wonder how many people guessed a resolution like this.

Thanks!