AN: This is my first fic for Tangled. Might turn this into a series of one-shots.
Also: I know, I
know her hair turned brown at the end of the movie, but… I can't stop imagining her with blonde, long hair, so if I slip up and mention blonde, just ignore it.

As always, though, I hope you enjoy!

The first thing I'm aware of is a horrendous smell. I can't describe it- that's how awful it is. A mixture of horse manure and… spices? Whatever it is, it does the trick. My eyes spring open- my body would have done the same, but Rapunzel is too busy lying on top of me. Well, hey, that's not that bad.

"Are you okay?" I blink. Oh… I'm supposed to respond.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just curious, though. Why am I on the floor?" Her tiny mouth drops an inch, a sound emitting from her throat, before she clamps it shut and begins biting her lip. All the noises she's making combined with her tiny body on mine is distracting, to say the least.

"I'm pregnant." I don't have the time to become aroused, because all of the blood inside of me seems to drain out when I hear those words. In retort, I squeak, my eyes bulging out of their sockets as she winces. "Please, please don't freak out!" Whatever other noise that was going to occur ceases, catches halfway in my throat. And stays there. And now I can't breathe again. "Oh, don't do that! Eugene, please don't pass out again." Again? Eugene Fitzherbert does not and never will pass out.

The blasted smell is back. "Mother, he won't stop."

"Well, this news is rather shocking, my dear."

"Did no one teach him what happens when a man and a woman have-"

"Rapunzel?" The interruption is used both as a way to direct her attention to me and to save the queen from an anatomy lesson.

"Eugene! You're awake!" She wraps her arms around me, her hair falling around us like a thick, dark curtain. Immediately, the scent of lavender overwhelms me and I inhale deeply, enjoying it as opposed to the smelling salts she'd been wafting underneath my nose.

"Hey, Blondie," I place a kiss on the crown of her head, "I'm okay."

"Clearly, you aren't, because you keep passing out on me and that obviously isn't good, so I've been sitting here trying to figure out why you're-"

"Rapunzel." Her little mouth snaps shut and then opens hesitantly, only to blow out an exasperated breath that flushes her skin and-if possible- makes her look even cuter.

"Yes, Eugene?" She questions reluctantly. Pulling her back to face her completely, to meet eye-to-eye, my lips can't help but break into a grin.

"I love you." Luckily, she doesn't tackle me. Instead, swiftly leans in and meets my lips for a heated kiss. Somewhere, the queen clears her throat and mumbles an excuse to leave. It doesn't matter, though, because right now a thousand other things are flying through my mind. How far along is she? Is it a girl or a boy? What the hell kind of a father am I going to be?

"So… you're okay?"

"Okay?" The expression on her face as she tries to find the right words is one of my favorites. A hand comes up to place a flyaway hair back into the braid she's styled.

"As in… no more freak outs? And you're not angry?"

"That is the last word I would use. A little overwhelmed, but that'll pass." It's funny, because when she grins, the sunlight that's pouring in through the windows grows stronger, brighter. The beams highlight the golden flecks in her eyes and I have to shake my head to rid it of the spell she's cast upon me. "I'm okay." I pretend like her tackle hug doesn't hurt and, in response, pull her tighter against me. I'm okay.

Nine months later…

"I am not okay!"

"You're not okay? You? I oughta rip your throat out and shove it up-" Her threat is broken as she rips out another scream. Standing to the side, I'm torn between comforting my wife or fleeing from the room. But Eugene Fitzherbert does not flee, so I swallow the wagon-load of butterflies in my stomach and edge closer to the bed. Rapunzel is breathing deeply, like the nurse is encouraging her to do, and scrunching her face up as she pushes. Leaning over, I bring the cold cloth to her forehead and wipe away the sweat that's dotting her hairline.

The pain she's in is evident and I'm mildly frustrated at myself that I can do nothing for her. Part of me wants to say something helpful, something uplifting- or at least that I love her, but it's possible she'll dismember me, so I keep my mouth shut and dampen the cloth again.

"Rapunzel, the baby is almost here. Just two more good pushes and you can hold this baby in your arms." Suddenly, her hand is reaching out, lacing her fingers through mine.

"Ready?" Hesitation is written across her features, mixed with a dash of fear and discomfort. Still, the best emotion is settled in her eyes, spilling out of them as she nods.

"I'm okay." We both share a brief smile before turning to the nurse, Rapunzel letting out a painful whimper.

"I can see the head and shoulders. Eugene, would you like to see?"

"Uh…." I don't know what propels me forward, allowing my connection with my wife to drop. Stupidity? Sheer fright? The second I spy what the nurse is all excited about, though… "I'm not okay." I manage to utter before the edges of my vision turns a hazy shade of black and the abrupt spike of pain as I meet the rigid floor rattles through my body. Then, the smell is back. Damn it.

"Eugene?" Rapunzel's voice greets me as I regain consciousness. The nurse helps me off the ground and it's then I piece together why the air in the room isn't full of tension any longer. There's a small, pink bundle in my wife's arms.

Edging closer, I reach a hand out and tuck back the blanket to see the sleeping, pink face of the baby. My baby. Our baby. "She needs a name." Rapunzel tells me, placing her own hand on my cheek, wiping away the tears that have landed there.

"Something that sounds good with Fitzherbert." She erupts in quiet laughter, covering it with her tear-stained hand, for fear of awakening our child.

"I don't think that's possible."

"Well… how about Annelise? You said you loved that name."

"Do you like it, though? Remember, she is our daughter." The mumbling of voices awakens the topic of our conversation and I watch with fascination as her pink lips stretch in a yawn, reminding me of her mother. Satisfied, she opens her eyes- a colorful mixture of forest green and golden brown specks- and stares up at me, mesmerized by my own figure. Suddenly, the chubby cheeks grow a darker shade of red, and she releases a howl.

"Hey, hey, now. Nothing to be mad at, Annelise. You're okay." She shifts uncertainly in the blanket, eyes wide as she listens to my promise. "You're okay."