Title: You'd Be The First
Author: BornAverage (formerly drunk on moonshine)
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rated: T, for mild violence
Characters: Flynn/Eugene, Rapunzel
Chapter 1 of ?

Summary: Three bashes to the head with an iron skillet, and Flynn Rider was sure he was only imagining the beautiful girl with the seventy feet of golden hair. The lingering saliva in his ear from her frog convinced him otherwise.

Author's Note: Hello, all. I just recently got into Tangled—more like obsessed—and decided to write a short multi-chaptered fic for this fandom based on Flynn/Eugene's point of view of the movie, starting at when he meets Rapunzel to the very end. So, forgive me if you find Flynn/Eugene a bit OOC. I'm new to this fandom, so don't hold back your thoughts on my version of the characters. :P I'd really appreciate the feedback.

Disclaimer: Heck, I don't even own the Blu-Ray copy, or any promotional merchandise. How on earth could I own the whole franchise, nonetheless the script?

A whack to the head with a frying pan was all it took to knock out the notorious thief, Flynn Rider. Various lights and colors filled his vision before he was introduced to the cold floor. He awoke moments later, the pain behind his eyes strong and burning. And almost as soon as his eyes snapped open, he heard a feminine gasp and was then met with the familiar pang of metal clashing with his skull.

Something thin and slimy slapped his left eardrum, instantly jolting him conscious. He couldn't recall ever being in a chair... Flynn was suddenly aware he was bound to said chair, and saw what appeared to be golden strips of something.

He checked his surroundings to find that it was coiled around the whole room.

"Is this..." he questioned in disbelief, "...hair?"

A voice came from the rafters above. His gaze snapped in its direction.

"Struggling...Struggling is pointless!" the person stated, stumbling over her words.

"Huh?" He was a tad confused.

A small, feminine body jumped down, but remained hidden in the shadows. "I know why you're here, and I'm not...afraid of you."

"What?" He was now extremely confused. He squinted into the darkness to see his captor, but couldn't identify anything but the silhouette of her petite frame.

Dainty, bare feet came into the light. Then legs, then a torso, and finally... An attractive face. Her eyes were big and green, and held a bit of accusation. With his careful, amber eyes, he saw the freckles across the bridge of her nose. Golden hair trailed after her, and he assumed that the snake of blond around the room belonged to her. A frying pan was slowly lifting beside her head.

"Who are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyebrows. "And, how did you find me?"

Flynn Couldn't form any coherent words to respond, struck by her beauty.

"Who are you?" she repeated with much more fierceness. "And, how did you find me?"

Finally, he was able to think clearly, and cleared his throat. "I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you," he began. "But, may I just say... Hi."

He flashed a cocky grin at her, ignoring her confused expression. He thought that maybe he could charm his way out of her hair, because to be honest, it was kind of gross.

"How ya doin'?" he asked. "The name's Flynn Rider. How was your day, huh?"

She gave a slight scoff, shoving the culinary weapon in his face, "Who else knows my location, Flynn Rider?"

He turned his head to avoid being hit in the face.

"Alright, Blondie—"

"Rapunzel," she interrupted, sounding out each syllable, pressing the pan further into his personal bubble.

"Gesundheit," he stated at the strange name. "Here's the deal. I was in a situation, gallivanting through the forest. I came across your tower and...oh! Oh no!" The realization dawned on him. He panicked, and searched the small room for his leather bag that contained an important artifact. "Where is my satchel?"

She only smirked smugly at him, crossing her arms across her chest to emphasize her cleverness. "I've hidden it. Somewhere you'll never find it."

He scanned the room once more, before landing on a ceramic pot a yard from where she stood. "It's in that pot, isn't it?"

Then, she whacked him on the head with her frying pan.

His left eardrum was once again slapped, a light weight on his shoulder. He shifted his eyes to the side to see what it could be, and spotted a frog-thing with its tongue in his ear.

"Yike! Would you stop that?" he demanded, rubbing his ear on his shoulder to rid of any saliva.

"Now," Blondie enunciated with more smugness, "it's hidden where you'll never find it."

She flung her long hair back, before circling him with the pan. "So, what do you want with my hair? To cut it?"

He was confused - why would anyone want her hair? "What?"

"Sell it?" she asked from behind him, the pan dangerously close to his right jaw.

"No! Listen, the only thing I want to do with your hair is get out of it. Li-ter-al-ly," he clarified, attempting to wiggle out of his restraints.

"Yi—Wait... You don't want my hair?" she asked, a bit confused.

"Why on earth would I want your hair?" he asked incredulously. "Look, I was being chased, I saw a tower, I climbed it. End of story."

"You're...telling the truth?"

He could tell she was starting to believe him, but was still wary of giving her full trust into his story.

"Yes!"

She hummed a noise of discontent, frying pan slowly lowering from his face. The frog raced down her arm to the edge of the pan. It looked him up and down, as if it was trying to see if there were any flaws in his story. He saw it motioned its tail to a corner of the room, but kept a single eye on him.

Blondie moved to the corner, her hands cupped before her to hold the frog. Her back was to him, and she was whispering, but he was able to hear what she was saying with his careful hearing.

"I know! I need someone to take me!"

The green thing chirped.

"I think he's telling the truth, too."

It chirped some more.

By this time, Flynn lost interest in trying to eavesdrop on a one-sided conversation, so he began to struggle out of the human hair that tied him to the chair.

She suddenly sighed loudly, "Okay, Flynn Rider. I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

He was sure she didn't just say that. "Deal?"

"Look this way," she commanded, pulling on her hair to spin him around. The chair lost balance on two legs, forcing him to fall to the floor. She jumped up on a mantle, pulling a curtain aside.

"Do you know what these are?"

He looked to where she was, face pressed to the floor. "You mean the lantern things they do for the princess?"

How did she not know of the famous floating lanterns the kingdom of Corona did for the lost princess? It had been a tradition for eighteen years.

"Well, tomorrow evening," she began, "they will light the night sky with these lanterns."

No need to state the obvious, Goldie, he thought.

"You," she pointed her frying pan at him, "will act as my guide, take me to these lanterns, and return me home safely."

She can't be serious, he thought, rolling his eyes.

"Then, and only then," she said with a laugh, "will I return your satchel to you."

"Yeah," he responded, lifting himself onto his fingers to push himself to lay on his side, "no can do. Unfortunately, the kingdom and I aren't exactly 'simpatico' at the moment, so I won't be taking you anywhere."

She looked to the frog on her shoulder; it was beating a fist into its palm. She jumped down from where she stood, pulling him up with her hair.

"Something brought you here, Flynn Rider," she stated, pulling him closer. "Call it what you will: fate, destiny..."

"A horse," he corrected, giving her a bored expression.

"So, I have made the decision to trust you."

"A horrible decision, really," he commented. It was the truth.

"But, trust me when I tell you this," she growled. She pulled him closer, tilting the chair forward and supporting his weight on one arm. He was kind of surprised in her strength. "You can tear this tower apart brick by brick, but without my help, you will never find your precious satchel."

"So, let me get this straight," he said, "I take you to see the lanterns, bring you back home, and you'll give me back my satchel?"

"I promise."

He gave another bored expression, not believing her, because really, who gave out promises nowadays?

"And when I promise something, I never ever break that promise."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Ever."

"Alright, listen, I didn't want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice," he announced. "Here comes The Smolder."

He looked at her with heated eyes, lifted an eyebrow, and pursed his lips just enough to look irresistible. She only narrowed her eyes at him, and was surprisingly unaffected with his Smolder. It was impossible! No woman—and a few men—could be immune to The Smolder. This girl was strange, he decided.

"Fine!" he exclaimed, giving up. "I'll take you to see the lanterns!"

She gasped in happiness, retracting her hands from the chair, "Really?"

"...oops," she said, realizing her mistake.

He fell forward, his face smacking the cold floor.

"...you broke my Smolder."