AN: So, in honor of both Zach Levi and Chuck, I'm probably going to make all the chapter titles like this...blank vs. the blank. So, hence Rapunzel vs. the Outside World. I think it will give something...I don't know...special to this story. Or maybe not. But it amuses me, and part of my purpose in writing is to amuse myself. So there you go.

Did any of you watch the latest Chuck? Please don't tell me I'm alone in my obsession. Seriously, it was beyond awesome, right down to the title-Chuck vs. the Wedding Planner. Brilliant.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and leave me a review to tell me what you think. Originally, I wrote this scene in Beyond Appearances and I put in this story too, because I rather liked it.

-FL 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Tangled

Chapter 3-Rapunzel vs . the Outside World

Lord Caversham: Do you always understand everything you say?
Lord Arthur Goring: Yes... if I listen attentively.

-Oscar Wilde, An Ideal Husband

As you might have guessed, I wasn't too thrilled about this impromptu journey back to Caermoor to see the "floating lights." I felt pretty much shanghaied into it, but I resolved to at least be civil to this girl. Besides, she looked so excited-it was like lanterns were inserted in her face. I wasn't that cruel to pop her bubble. I watched her as her eyes darted around the room, like she was looking for something. What that could be, I had no idea. What could she possibly need on this trip? She did know that anything she took with her she would have to carry the entire time? I sure wasn't going to do it for her. I sighed heavily. If we were going to do this, we had better leave about…now. "So," I asked her with false brightness. "Are you ready?"

She beamed a smile at me…and I felt another odd thrill. Uh-oh. Better stop feeling those thrills or there will be trouble. Don't forget your dream! "Of course!" she said happily. "Pascal, Hesty, and I are all ready for this grand adventure!"

For the second time in as many minutes, I felt completely stumped by this girl. Can I tell you that this is a rare occurrence for me? Generally, I could tell what girls were thinking about, because it was usually about me (and how insanely handsome I was). But this girl, well, it was impossible to read her mind. Or, in fact, to figure out what she was talking about. "Now I'm guessing that 'Pascal' is the frog," (she named her frog? Please don't tell me that I'm the only one who finds that strange)" I said. "And you are yourself, but who on earth is 'Hesty'?"

She laughed-a pure, lilting, and sweet sound. And I almost wanted to say something to make her do it again. Now, stop that. "Hesty is my frying pan, of course!" she told me.

Well. This girl was…agreeable enough (besides the whole tying me up thing), and had a nice smile, eyes, and laugh. But that didn't make her any less strange. Naming her frying pan? Hello? Who does that? Was there no end to her apparent insanity? If I continued to hang out with her, soon I would start referring to my satchel as Satch, or Satty. Or maybe even Percy (you know, like Pursey). And what would happen to my reputation then? "You named your frying pan?"

She laughed again. "Why not?" she said. "Hesty's certainly served me well today." She gave me a very pointed look, which I guess translated to…you were hit three times in the head with her. Why shouldn't I name something that was so useful?

You mean besides the fact that it's freakin' frying pan, for heaven's sake? I found myself becoming sort of peeved, and usually that isn't a good mood for me (you don't want to see me angry either, because it usually isn't pretty). And so I did something I'm not….too proud of: I began to mercilessly tease her, borderline insulting her- i.e. show her how completely lunatic her naming her pan was. "O…kay," I said with a smirk. "If you, Pascal, and Hesty are ready, now would be a good time to get going. That is, if you can drag yourself away from all your other precious named objects." I'm happy to tell you that this kind of teasing wasn't typically of me. Contrary to what you might think, I'm not actually a mean person. Wait. Is that a smirk on your face? Why are you smirking at me? It's not my fault that some people mistake my wit for sarcasm or insults! Hey, my policy is if you have something witty to say….you'd better say it. How else will people know who incredibly clever you are if you don't tell them? Constantly? Actions don't always speak louder than words, you know.

Right, you're squirming again. Ahem. Sorry for that…I guess I was sort of sidetracked by my own brilliance. We're back to Rapunzel (or, as I called her then, Blondie) now. She flushed then, which meant that she understood what I said. And resented it. "There's no need to flame me," she retorted.

Flame me…that's actually pretty clever of her. She apparently was very smart, even if she was sort of crazy. Nevertheless, I continued to smirk. "Oh, no, Blondie, I wouldn't want to take you away from Bookie, Ovey, and Mopy here."

Her cheeks turned red. "That's quite-" Obviously, she wasn't somebody you wanted to see angry either.

So I could tell that I was really pushing it, but I was riding a wave of wit, and once I started that….well, you couldn't stop me. Not unless you thrust something sharp in my face. "Not to mention Buckie, Tabley, and Chairy. Seriously!" I began to laugh at her. "They must be great friends. I mean, how you could you even think of leaving your…"

She angrily walked over to me, and shoved her frying pan in my face with a glare. "I will use this if you don't stop that right now."

I finally stopped laughing at her. After all, I didn't want another whack in the head. "Oh, okay, Blondie. No need to get yourself all fried." Wasn't that witty of me? Get it? Fried? Fry pan? I know. I am really clever.

She sighed, and then her voice was completely calm. It was actually pretty amazing how she could go from mad to quiet in five seconds. "Rapunzel," she corrected softly. "And I'm ready to go if you are."

I let out a slight chuckle. "Oh, of course, I am," I informed her. "Flynn Rider's prepared for anything. I was just waiting to make sure you were."

Her eyes did something then….was that an eye-roll? Did she really roll her eyes at me? Well. This girl has spunk, that's for sure. No girl usually rolled her eyes at me because they too busy batting them instead. "Yes, I am," she said. "And Rapunzel is prepared for anything too. That is, as long as she can have some of her precious objects with her. Otherwise, who knows how lonely she could become? I mean, wouldn't you be if you lived in a tower all by yourself for most of your life?"

She lived in the tower for most of her life? All by herself? No wonder she was lonely enough to talk to random objects. It was odd, but in a weird way it did make sense. And it explained a lot of her eccentricities. I felt a wave of something very akin to remorse. But I didn't let it show. "Well, all right, then. Let's get you to see those lanterns."

"All right," she agreed.

XXXXXXXXXX

Finally-after all that good talk-we left the tower. I went down first, using the arrows as a way to get down. However, Blondie didn't follow me, and I was almost halfway down before I started wondering about it. Didn't she want to go see the lanterns?

"You coming, Blondie?" I hollered up to her. I glanced up, curious to see what the hold up was. And one second she was staring down her tower at the ground, and the next she was flying past me by her hair. Well. I'll say one thing for her hair- she obviously knew how to use it for her benefit. I immediately clung close to the tower, so I wouldn't get hit by her on her way down. With a squeal she reached the ground and quickly ran off. Wonderful. Now I would have to go chase after her. Just what I wanted to do.

After I reached the bottom of the tower, I went looking for her. It didn't take too much time either, because she was shrieking in excitement. It was actually kind of amusing, but then her face totally crumpled and her eyes widened in some kind of anxiety. And then she started talking to herself. Over and over again. While she did, she swung from one emotion to another much like she had swung by her hair (it was enough to make me think she was completely bipolar, and it took all my self-control to sit patiently while she sorted out her life):

"Mother would be so furious if she found out."

"That's okay, what she doesn't know won't kill her."

"Oh my gosh, this would kill her."

"This is so fun!"

"I am a horrible daughter. I'm going back."

"I am never going back!"

"I am a despicable human being."

"Whoo-hoo! Best-Day-Ever!"

However, even thought it was trying, I did figure out a few things by listening to her. One, she had a mother. Two, that mother was very protective of her, and didn't want her to leave her tower (I mused to myself that maybe her mother was as crazy as she was. You know something? It turns out that I was almost right- except the fact that her mother was completely crazy and not just a little). Three, that aforementioned mother didn't know about her impromptu journey to see the lanterns and wouldn't like it if she did. Really, it was dramatic enough to be out of a novel. It was obviously the biggest drama of Blondie's life, and she couldn't decide between doing what she wanted to do and what her mother wanted her to do.

Finally, she sat down in the grass, and she started sobbing like her heart was breaking. As she did, I felt mine wrench inside me. And even though I swore I was going to keep my distance from her, I walked over and cleared my throat. "You know," I said kindly. "I couldn't help but notice that you're a little at war with yourself here." That was a slight understatement, but hey. I was trying to actually be nice to her for a change. I still felt slightly guilty about teasing her so much back in the tower.

She immediately stopped crying and glanced up at me. "What?"

"Now I'm only picking up bits and pieces," I told her. "Over-protective mother, forbidden road trip. This is serious stuff." She stared at me in surprise- it seemed she was as surprised by my being compassionate as I was myself. Actually, I didn't even know why I was doing this. If I let her keep crying, then maybe she'd just keep up on this whole lantern idea. Yet I couldn't help but explain to her the ins and outs of this thing called adolescence. Clearly her mother hadn't decided to let her in on that minor detail of life. "But let me ease your conscience," I continued. "This is part of growing up. A little rebellion, a little adventure. That's good, healthy even." Her frog jumped up on my shoulder, and I discreetly flicked him off. I didn't want it even near me.

She wiped her hand across her eyes. "You think?"

I leaned one foot against the rock behind her and resumed "I know!" I said. "You're way over-thinking this, trust me. Does your mother deserve this? No. Would this break her heart and crush her soul? Of course. But you just got to do it." If I'm going to continue being honest in this story (which I have been, and you can believe that or not. It's up to you), I must tell you that I didn't actually have personal experience in this area because…..well, just because. So I couldn't say that everything I said was absolutely true. But it sure sounded good, doesn't it?

Her eyes grew grave and tears started to well up again. "Break her….heart?" she repeated slowly.

I picked a berry from the bush and examined it as if it had the answer to life, the universe, and everything. "In half."

"Crush her…..soul?" she said tearfully.

Apparently she wasn't too keen on hurting her mother, even if she was practically an adult. Hmmm. Too bad I didn't know how that felt because... anyway. But if we were talking about fathers, well. Let's just say I couldn't relate to Blondie here's dilemma. I would easily take his heart and stomp on it. Or maybe break it with a battle axe. I squashed the berry between my fingers. "Like a grape."

I gently helped her up. "She would be heartbroken, you're right," she told me with a crestfallen face.

I considered her words for a moment. "Hmmm. I am, aren't I? Oh bother." For once, I was actually right about something in regard to families. Shocking. This was a day for new discoveries for me, wasn't it? Well, if Blondie didn't want to hurt her mother, then she would go back to the tower. And I would get my satchel back, and flee the country. All I had to do was pretend to be the martyr and act like I didn't want to break the "deal." Easiest con I had ever done. "All right. I can't believe I'm saying this," I said, as if I was resigned. "But I'm letting you out of the deal."

She stared at me, incredulous. "What?"

I walked over to the rock where she had placed her pan and her frog. "That's right," I continued. "But don't thank me" (like there was any chance of that!). "Let's just turn around and get you home." I shoved both items into her arms, and began to push her back toward the tower. "Here's your pan, here's your frog. I get back my satchel, and you get back a mother-daughter relationship based on mutual trust and voila! We part ways as unlikely friends." The term "friends" was really pushing it, but hey. I don't think business partners would have the same effect. And I didn't think telling her that her mother obviously didn't seem to trust her would have the same effect either. Then she'd want to leave, and then where would I be? Well, in a few days, I could tell you where I'd be: in jail, or out of Corona. Hopefully, it would be the latter. I wasn't too fond of jails. Rather smelly, you know, and damp.

We had only walked around two steps before she slammed her feet into the ground and pushed me away. "No!" she insisted loudly. "I am seeing those lanterns."

And so close….There must be something about those lanterns to make her want to go so badly. Did she know something about them that I didn't? That couldn't be possible; I had seen them almost every year since I was….probably like 4. And it was always the same thing every time. Don't get me wrong, they were pretty and all. But seriously. They weren't worth all this hassle. "Oh, come on!" I said, annoyed. "What's it going to take for me to get my satchel back?"

She shoved her frying pan in my face. "I will use this."

Suddenly, rustling came from the bush behind us and she immediately threw herself on my back. "Is it ruffians?" she said in a panic, and thrust her frying pan out in front of her. "Thugs? Have they come for me?"

Good Lord. This girl's all over the map! She seemed perfectly sane one minute (apart from the frog….and the pan…and the mother…and the hair. But other than that, she was normal…ish), and the next she seemed to suffer from complete paranoia. Why else would she think everybody was out to get her? It was likely some kind of animal or something, and she was totally over-reacting. Naturally, I was right-a bunny bounded out of the bushes. Hmmm. Now let me think. The last person who had died from a bunny attack was…..well, never. Silly girl. I couldn't help a sarcastic remark. "Stay calm," I told her dryly. "It can probably smell fear."

She immediately slid of me, embarrassment written all over her face. Apparently, jumping on men's backs wasn't a normal activity for her. "Oh sorry!" she apologized bashfully. "I guess I'm just a little bit….jumpy!"

Jumpy? That was a slight understatement. Try a bundle of nerves. And this was just a bunny! Imagine what she would be like if she really saw a real ruffian…or thug. Hmmm..."Probably be best if we avoided ruffians and thugs though."

"Yeah, that would probably be best," she said with a slight laugh. "Who knows what I'd do if I actually saw one?"

Suddenly I had a completely brilliant idea: If she actually saw a thug, maybe she'd be so scared she'd want to go back to her tower- and stay there. And I could leave the county like I'd planned. I knew just the place that would completely terrify her too- The Snuggly Duckling. Actually, don't let the name fool you-it's the complete opposite (which always amused me greatly. Talk about irony!) "Are you hungry?" I said brightly. "I know a great place for lunch."

She smiled. You know something? I was becoming way too fond of that smile. "Where?"

"Oh, don't worry," I assured her. "You'll know it when you smell it." I grabbed her frying pan and dragged her along behind me with a cocky smirk.

Now this was a fool-proof plan. Don't you think? I sure did.

Too bad I was wrong about that.