#nwalmaer

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“So, what? We just wait around for someone to do something wrong?”

“Pretty much.” Rapunzel craned her neck to look over the edge of the roof, as if something might happen right that second on the street below them. Nope. Nothing. She leaned back and let her shoulders slump, offering Flynn a goofy smile.

He stared at her for a long moment. “Seriously? This is what you do?”

“It's what you do now too.”

He tugged at the collar of his jacket. “I'm still not sold.”

“You just have to be patient.”

“I don't have to do anything...I used to make my own schedule, you know. Live by my own rules. My own time table. This waiting around on rooftops all night is not my idea of a good time.”

“Well, it used to be easier. You were predictable. We'll just need to find a new arch enemy and learn his schedule.”

“Oh, is that all? Why didn't you say so?”

Her face lit with excitement. “You have an idea? Do you know someone who's planning something?” It hadn't occurred to her before, but Flynn might have vast connections to the city's seedy underbelly. With his experience, they could take on the world! Teamwork!

He gasped, his eyes sparkling to match her excitement.

Then his face fell just as quickly to reveal his sarcasm. “No!”

She slumped. “Oh.” Well. That was okay.

He shifted in discomfort. “It's cold!”

“You've got a jacket.” A nice jacket. And it was warm too. She knew from the few times she'd wrapped it around her shoulders and snuggled up in it. In the evening chill, she was a bit envious. Maybe if she asked nicely, he'd let her borrow it now.

Of course, then they wouldn't get anything done. But they weren't getting much done anyway. She shifted to sit cross-legged and brush away a few roof pebbles that had bit into her palms.

He was patient for all of ten seconds before snapping. “HOW DO YOU LIVE?!”

“Flynn—“

“No. Let's go start something.” He hopped to his feet and hauled her up with him. “I'll go rob a bank and you can stop me.”

“No.”

“Fine. Don't stop me.”

She scowled at him until his determination broke, crumbling into a groan. “Alright. You want an arch enemy? Fine. This is a terrible idea, but I'm so bored, I've stopped thinking straight. You're taking full responsibility for any and all bullet wounds I suffer.”

“Okay!”

“How bad an arch enemy do you want? Mob boss? Drug cartel? Guy in a funny outfit who likes puns?”

She considered. “What kind of puns?”

“Bad ones.”

“That sounds perfect!” She bounced on her toes and pecked his cheek. “Let's go!”