This is for all of my lovely readers and reviewers. I know some of you were very disappointed, so I decided to make a fixy! Actually, to tell you the truth, I had been planning to write this even before I decided to end the fic. But I thought you would all really enjoy this.

I own none of the characters. The idea for Enchanted is completely the work of Walt Disney studios not me.

Epilogue

"Giselle, have you seen my cell?" Robert called from their bedroom.

"Isn't it next to the coffee maker like always?" Giselle called back from the kitchen, looking at the coffee maker as she spoke.

"I already checked! It's not on its charger!" Robert shouted, digging through the pockets of the pants he wore the day before.

"Well—sorry, honey! I'm making Morgan's lunch," Giselle called, spreading peanut butter on bread and searching the cupboard above at the same time.

"I have to get to work! I need my phone!" Robert tugged on his hair, "I'm going to be late!"
"Morgan, have you seen Dad's cellphone?" Giselle asked the girl as she walked by with her backpack.

"No," Morgan replied, throwing her bag on the kitchen table and looked through its contents.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry, I haven't seen it! But I have to feed Coop and get to the studio," she put the sandwich in a ziplock bag and handed Morgan her lunch box.

"Who's taking me to school?" Morgan asked.

"Ehm…Robert! Are you taking Morgan to school or me?" Giselle turned around, pressing her hand to her forehead.

"I am!" Robert got down and looked under their bed.

"Alright!" Giselle turned around again, now rubbing her temples. Mornings were always hectic for them. She looked around, trying to remember what she was doing.

"Mom, do you need help? Morgan asked.

The way Morgan had phrased the question made Giselle laugh. She may have meant to be offering to help her mother, but it could be taken as Giselle being insane and needing to find a shrink.

"What's funny?" Morgan's brow creased with confusion.

"Nothing, sweetie," Giselle shook her head and walked down the hall to the nursery.

Across the room in his cradle, Cooper cooed and squealed, blowing bubbles of spit. Giselle smiled and reached into the cradle to gently lift the little baby out. He smiled up at her, flashing his gums and screaming with delight. Giselle kissed his head and breathed in his fresh baby scent. His hair had darkened considerably in the month since he came home from the hospital and they moved to New York. They could honestly say that he was two and a half months old, but he was just now getting to about the size of a newborn—and a small one at that. His soft, deep red hair stuck out in tufts on his head. It had been quite a surprise for his parents, who distinctively remember his hair being blonde, to discover his hair as red as Giselle's now. Robert officially rested his case that Cooper was not his son—but a male clone of his wife. It was impossible not to think so. With the red hair, the nose, the eyes, and the lips, he truly looked exactly like Giselle. And was by all means as loud as her.

It seemed like only a split second in which Cooper decided that he was no longer content. His tiny fingers latched onto the fabric of her shirt and he began to whimper. First it was quiet and subtle, but before long he was screeching.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," Giselle tried to shift him in her arms, but he had a strong hold on her shirt, "Oh, Cooper. Just wait a second, sweetie, Mommy will feed you soon."

Turning to face the changing table, Giselle sighed. There, sitting next to the baby powder, was Robert's cell phone. She walked over and—uneasily shifting Cooper to one arm—picked up the high-tech hunk of black metal. A smile tugged at her lips, and she giggled momentarily before Cooper's screaming brought her back to reality.

"Boy, you have got a set of lungs on you," Giselle said, reaching for his binky and set the phone down, "I'm afraid to admit that those are most likely mine too. Of course, you could have gotten them from your Auntie Ashley. She sure can talk up a storm."

Cooper spat the binky out only three seconds after Giselle put it in his mouth, quickly figuring out that it wasn't what he wanted. His little hands still tugged on Giselle's shirt.

"Though I can't say exactly where you got that brain from. Must be your Daddy," Giselle said softly, looking fondly at the unhappy baby in her arms.

"He okay?" Robert stuck his head through the doorway.

"Hungry," Giselle replied simply. Then she remembered, grabbing his phone off of the changing table again, "Oh! Found your phone, honey!"

"Thank God," Robert let out a long relieved sigh as he came across the room to her to take his cell phone, "Say, I'm gonna head out, don't want to be late."

"Alright," Giselle smiled and pecked him on the lips, "You'll be home for dinner, right?"

"Of course I will," Robert smiled back and kissed her back again, staying a little longer. When he pulled away, her wide eyes had that familiar gleam. He knew that if he didn't leave now, he wouldn't be able to leave at all. It was too much—going to work everyday and saying goodbye to her as she held their baby. And all day, think of her. Think of coming home and seeing her smile again. It was worth it.

"I love you," Robert said softly.

"I love you, too," Giselle's face illuminated.

"I'll see you later," Robert replied, heading to the door.

"Bye, sweetheart!" Giselle called after him.

Cooper seemed to begin screaming louder on cue. There was almost no end to his high levels of volume, which he loved to explore. His little fingers pried at the buttons on her shirt, and Giselle had to pull his hand away before she could even get to the buttons herself.

She sat in the rocking chair and unbuttoned her shirt as she reached for Cooper's blanket that Judy had made for him. Giselle unclasped her bra and covered herself with the blanket—for modesty's sake. Cooper immediately took to her, his screeches stopped almost just as suddenly.

Now, here's the thing, Giselle had found something different about New York City since they moved back. She could be completely alone and content at the same time. She could sit still. She could stay at the apartment without driving herself insane. Cooper changed everything for her. It had been unbearably difficult while he had been in the hospital, but the moment she brought him home it had been as if her happiness had leaped right back into her. This little person who couldn't even talk to her brought her more company than anyone ever had before. She was never lonely. She never had nightmares—she woke up every hour on the hour now anyway. And most of all, she was never unhappy. It was hard of course, adapting to the new and demanding child's schedule. But she was more than willing to give up everything for him.

Everyone told her how beautiful her baby was, but she didn't need to be told. She knew it. They told her how much he looked exactly like her. She saw that too. And yet, when she looked into his blue eyes, she found something she didn't find in her own. Maybe it was the pure innocence of an infant, but she swore it was something else. It was the same thing she saw every evening when Robert walked in the door and she pushed his hair back and kissed him as if it were their wedding day. The same thing she saw every morning when she would open her eyes to see Robert watching her sleeping. The same thing she saw in the middle of the night when Robert nudged her awake, telling her it was her turn to put the baby back to sleep. The same thing she saw when she walked into the nursery and caught Robert singing softly to a sleeping bundle in his arms and he looked up at her. It was that unconditional love, adoring love. Those eyes that watched her every move, following her around the room. It didn't matter how many times people told her that her son had her eyes, no matter how she looked at them, she didn't see it.

She saw Robert's eyes.

And the entire world wasn't worth as much to her as the way they lit up—no matter who's face they were on—when they saw her. It was a sure good thing that they would be around for a long time.

Ha, so long as nobody walked across the street at the wrong time.

Now this was truly life to it's fullest. Complete motherly joy. Wedded bliss. Everything. It was her entire world.

She smiled as she studied the blanket with all of its delicate flowers. The lilies, daisies, roses, and tulips. Any kind she wanted. Because he was her baby.