12/1/2004

Title:All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: One - A way forward, a way back

Wendy's kiss changes Peter's life in ways he never imagined.

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Wendy watched at Peter and TinkerBell disappeared from sight, her eyes remaining fixed on the point where his light had vanished. A soft call from her mother returned her attention to the room behind her and the cries of the Lost boys as they played with John and Michael, rolling on the floor with her father like puppies. Nana stood a little ways off, her tongue hanging out, for all the world grinning like a Cheshire cat. Wendy looked on from the window embrasure, her lips curved in a sweet but sad smile. Aunt Millicent was still hugging Slightly, his skinny arms apparently locked around her corsetted waist in a death grip, both of them serenely oblivious of the chaos around them. Again Wendy was called away from her musing by her mother.

"Wendy dear, we need to find beds for the boys, but first..oh gracious, you all need a bath!"

Wendy looked down at her hands, the nails black with grime and jagged, down further her toes curled blackly against the clean carpet, the extent of her grubbiness a surprise to her.

"Oh...I didn't realise, its just been so.....exciting, we never thought about....."she gestured helplessly at herself, "getting cleaned up,"

"Well its time to think about it now, young lady, I'll get the bath started if you can get your father to sort out some of John and Michaels night clothes for the boys to wear after they get clean,"

"Of course mother," Wendy responded, her eyes drifting once more to the open window behind her, straining for another glimpse of the boy that had changed her life. Sighing she turned away and started across the room towards the door, her mind already turned to more practical matters.

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Peter flew through the planets and stars as if in a dream, his eyes distant, his thoughts turned inwards. Tink buzzed around him, her light dancing over his limbs as they passed through the horizon and entered the skies above Neverland. Slowing down, Peter came back to awareness and stared down through the clouds at his home, as if seeing it for the first time. The sun felt warm on his shoulders, the clouds as soft as ever as they brushed by him, the water far below as crystal and sparkling as always. Abruptly he halted in mid air, suspended between the sea and the clouds, Tink rushed past several feet before halting to see what had caught his attention, returning to perch on his outstretched arm as he floated. He was staring down at the Mermaids Lagoon where the Jolly Roger now rocked, the fairies having returned it, as per Peter's orders, to await the return of the surviving Pirates. Across his minds eye he replayed the events of the last few days, his body gently starting to descend to the island below, his eyes not seeing the flock of birds circling him or the Mermaids reaching up from the sea to him. Tink, growing bored with his silence, flew up and tugged at his hair, grabbing a hank and pulling with all her fairy might.

"Ow..Tink...cut it out,"

TinkerBell merely dodged out of the reach of his flailing hand and grabbed another handful of hair, yanking hard.

"Damn it Tink....I said stop it,"

By now Peter had floated down and landed gently on the wide, sandy beach that bordered the lagoon where the Jolly Roger was berthed. Tink placed herself in front of Peter's nose and rattled off a tirade of fairy speech, her tinkling voice like so many tiny bells.

"There's nothing wrong with me Tink, so leave off the scolding,"

Batting his hand at her, Peter scowled and started to march off down the beach, his footprints the only marks on the pristine sand. Tink flew slowly behind him, her wings only beating enough to keep her above the yellow shore, her simple mind not understanding why Peter seemed so unlike his usual cocksure self. She was so caught up in her musing that she didn't realise that Peter had stopped walking and she bumped into the back of his legs with a thump, falling to the sand in a cloud of fairy dust. Peter cast her only a cursory glance before taking a small leap into the air and flying slowly upwards, turning to enter the forest that bordered the beach, making for his home in the hidden wood. Tink rubbed her head, shouting several invectives after him before shaking out her wings and flying into the air, taking off into the sky in the opposite direction to Peter.

Peter flew above the trees, his heart heavy in his chest. He kept reminding himself that Peter Pan didn't have feelings, didn't grow up, didn't need a Wendy. But his heart called a different song. As he flew he absently rubbed at his breast, trying to ease the ache that seemed to grow in intensity as he skimmed over the tops of the trees, circling the tall volcano that dominated the mountain range down the centre of Neverland. He tried to remember how it had felt before Wendy and her brothers had come to his world, how he'd been carefree and careless, his self-confidence unchallenged, his triumphant crow heard from one end of the island to the other. The memories of that time became mixed with the memories of the pain as Hook threw words like weapons at Peter, wounding him with hurt and confusion. Peter had never felt the physical injuries inflicted in his fights before, brushing them off as so many flesh-wounds that healed without effort. But after Hook had destroyed his confidence, the wounds on his head had matched the searing pain in his heart making him vulnerable to Hooks blows. He had glimpsed Wendy's horrified face as he slammed into the mast before it was blotted out by Hooks triumphant leer. At that moment he had welcomed death for it would have stopped the pain that washed over him like a tidal wave, but that was not to be his fate. Instead his Wendy had intervened, getting thrown to the deck beside him so that her hair brushed over his face like a silk curtain. Her dear face coming so close to his as he lay on the deck, her hair falling like lace to shelter them both from the cruelty of the pirates, her eyes bright with love for him, her lips so soft as they pressed to his, giving him the gift of her heart. At that second he knew that he was loved, and that he did have feelings. He felt love.

Another jab of pain reminded him that he needed to see to his cuts and he banked to bring him around, back to the jungle and towards his tree hideout. As he flew closer the aches and bruises seemed to take on a pulse of their own, his head pounding in time with his heart so that he had difficulty even focusing on the forest below, let alone keeping to his course. Shaking his head to clear it, he put on a burst of speed and finally saw the tree, a giant standing in a small clearing, beckoning to him with the promise of rest and protection.

On reaching the ancient tree that housed his home, Peter touched down again, his legs almost buckling. As he pulled on the rope that opened the door he looked around the small clearing, his ears straining for the sound of the Lost Boys, imagining them crashing through the undergrowth, rolling and wrestling their way into the doorway in a bid to be the first at the table to eat. Hearing nothing but the breeze in the leaves and the birds in the air, Peter shook his head and turned to enter, sliding down the short slope to end up in the hollowed out roots of the tree. It seemed so quiet and empty. On the floor was Tootles bow and arrows, scattered in his haste to leave Neverland. Peter reached down and picked one up, his fingers running down the untidy feathers stuck to one end, his lips curving into a lopsided grin as he remembered the expression on Tootles face as he waited for the blow that would end his life for killing the "Wendy-bird".

He dropped the arrow as a spasm clutched at his body, gasping he staggered over to his bed, the skins looking soft and inviting to his weary body. Never had he felt the need to sleep so much before, his eyes already closing even as he took a final look around his home. Flopping onto the raised ledge, Peter rolled onto his back and crooked an arm behind his head.

"What is happening to me Wendy ?" He whispered, his eyes closing as he shifted to ease his aching limbs. "Why does it hurts so much ?" Peter turned onto his side, groaning as pain shot like lightening down his arms. "Is this what happens when you get feelings ?" Rolling onto his stomach, Peter let one arm dangle over the side of the bed, the fingers inches from the floor. "Why did you have to grow up ?" He finally muttered on a sigh, his body giving into the urge to sleep, his limbs becoming boneless, his breath puffing out in a final sigh before settling into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Outside, the sky darkened and clouds swept over the island, the sun sinking down to await the return of the boy that ruled his world.

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Wendy opened her eyes and lay for several minutes staring at the floral pattern wallpaper inches from her nose. She reached up a finger and traced the pattern of petals that entwined with a leafy vine, her eyes blinking lazily in the pale morning light.

A knock interrupted her musing and she rolled over, throwing back the covers before swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"Come in Alice, I'm awake,"

A tidily dressed housemaid entered carrying a tray with a small steaming teapot, its matching jug and assorted crockery. Alice nodded to Wendy, tripping over to the small table situated at the end of the bed and putting down her burden before turning and throwing back the curtains to let the bright sunshine flood the small, but elegantly appointed bedroom.

"Mornin' Miss Wendy, your Aunt is already up and taking breakfast. She asks that you wear the blue this morning."

"Thank you Alice, the blue it is."

Sighing to herself at her Aunt's dictatorial ways, Wendy walked over to the window and pulled aside the muslin drapes, her waistlength brown hair surrounding her like a cloak, catching glints of gold in the bright light. Behind her Alice clucked to herself as she collected the clothes scattered over the floor, sending her young mistress several glances as Wendy continued to gaze unseeingly out of the window.

"If you please Miss, your Aunt was quite insistent that there be no delay this morning. Plus your tea is getting cold."

"I know Alice, I just wanted to see what sort of day it was going to be."

Turning away from the window, Wendy tossed her long locks away from her shoulder exposing her long neck and slender frame, currently encased in sensible lawn from neck to ankle, which failed completely to hide the maturing curves of a woman on the brink of adulthood. At seventeen, Wendy was showing promise of being an acclaimed beauty like her mother. Her luminous, thickly lashed blue eyes and full lips had stirred many a young mans hopes during her adolescence but a certain aloofness had kept all such ambitions firmly at arms length. Sitting down on the end of her bed she lifted the lid covering a plate and picked up a piece of buttered toast, nibbling at it while Alice poured her a cup of tea in the delicate china crockery. Alice continued to fuss around, pulling out a filmy dressing gown and pouring warm water into a basin for Wendy to use later. Used to the morning routine, Wendy ate her breakfast and stared into the distance, her thoughts, as was often the case these days, turned inwards. In her minds eye she soared unfettered over the chimneys and roofs of the houses on London, her hair streaming out behind her like a flag. A bubble of laughter welled up inside her and she firmly choked down the desire to leap up and dance around the room. Five long years had failed to dull her love of adventure. Once tasted, it was, for her, never forgotten, a drug that constantly fired her blood. It had taken every effort of her redoubtable Aunt to mould and shape her niece into the respectable young woman that she now was. Mrs.Fulsom's school for young ladies, dance and deportment classes had all attempted to quell Wendy's passion for adventure, and they had all failed completely. On the outside she was everything her Aunt could hope for in a carefully nurtured gentleman's daughter. On the inside, Wendy clutched at the tatters of her memory and retold her stories to herself, keeping the kernel of hope alive against the persistence of polite society.

Alice held out the blue morning dress, its shape and design meant to show off Wendy's delectable figure to its best advantage, much to her chagrin. After submitting to the torture of a corset, then the dress, Wendy sat down at her dresser and waited patiently as Alice dressed her hair, looping the long tresses into the current style, teasing out soft curls to caress her cheek. Half an hour later she was ready and heading down the wide staircase towards the morning room, Chilten the butler leaning forward to open the door for her as she swept gracefully towards him.

"Good morning Miss,"

"Good morning Chilten,"

The door snicked quietly closed behind her as she paused, taking in the elegant room, its understated furniture and expensive knick-knacks. Her aunt was disposed upon the beautifully proportioned settee, the latest Ladies Journal open upon her lap, her pinz-nez glasses perched ever-present on her long nose.

"Ah my dear....the blue looks perfect on you,"

Dipping into a small curtsy, Wendy smiled serenely at her benefactress and approached the sofa opposite her Aunt and sat down.

"How are you this morning Aunt, I hope your....ailment didn't keep you awake last night ?"

"Oh no, Doctor Meecham's wonderful powders worked the oracle and I slept like a babe. One can never be too careful about taking ones medicines, and Meecham came highly recommended by my dear friend, Mrs.Bath. You remember her, don't you my dear ?"

"I believe I do Aunt. Wasn't her son the one who fell in the lake last month ?"

"Very disappointing, that boy. I had such high hopes..." her Aunt's voice faded away but it didn't fool Wendy for a moment. Since attaining her seventeenth year, Millicent Harding had been angling to get Wendy married, as advantageously as possible of course, and as soon as it was possible. She frequently extolled her niece that the shortcomings of her families connections shouldn't stop her from making a very creditable marriage, as long as Wendy kept her mind on the task of acquiring husband and didn't wander off into the realms of fantasy. But all too often Wendy's thoughts did just that, her mind stubbornly imposing the impish, mischievous, sun tousled head of Peter Pan over the faces of all the eager suitors that wore the paint off her Aunt's front door step. It wasn't so much Wendy's abundant charms that drew them, as much as her Aunt's settlement upon her that drew the bees to the honey pot in such droves. But as soon as the prospective suitor appeared, Wendy's traitorous heart pulled up the image of Peter's sea-green eyes and heart-tugging smile and all her best intentions went winging out of the window and another future prospect left her Aunt's portal disappointed. So far it had happened without fail with every eligible person that her Aunt had flung in her path. It said something for her Aunt Millicent's patience that the woman didn't give up her campaign of persistence, or maybe it spoke more of her Aunt's shrewdness in seeing that Wendy could only become more desirable the older she got. Certainly her likeness to her beautiful mother became more apparent each day and the caller's after each social engagement certainly didn't seem to have been put off by her niece's consistent refusals. It was just a matter of time, after all.

What did surprise Wendy, and she could find no real reason to explain it, was that as she got older the face that haunted her also aged. The boy that she had fought pirates with and danced with in the moonlight, seemed to be getting older as well, his eyes and smile remaining the same, but the face becoming older and more mature, the boy turning into a young man, the features changing from a child to an adult. It puzzled Wendy often, but she put it down to her overactive imagination and her mind filling in the gaps of her failing memory. A discreet cough drew her wandering attention once more to her Aunt and Wendy pinned a serene smile to her lips before turning her limpid eyes in her Aunts direction.

"I'm sorry Aunt, I was wool-gathering, you were saying ?"

"Tsk...you can't fool me miss, I've known you too long these past years. You were thinking about that boy again....no point denying it, its as plain as the nose....well maybe not plain.....herumph...it won't do Wendy. He's not coming back and even if he did, you're all grown up now, there is no room in your life for....errant boys."

"But Aunt, you found room for Slightly,"

"Yes, well....that's quite another matter. This is affecting your future Wendy. You must find a husband...it is your duty."

"But why ? As you so frequently tell me, I can't expect to marry very high, and with Father now in a managerial position and comfortably off because of the Neverland treasure, what need is there for me to marry ?"

Wendy watched as her Aunt turned a strange puce colour, her lips compressed in a thin line as she struggled to keep from saying something unpardonable to her unrepentant niece. After a short pause to gather her poise, Millicent continued.

"Good heavens child.......what else is a lady of good character and fortune to do, but marry. And you, my girl, have the added advantage of beauty to attract a suitable prospect, yet you throw it all away on the faint hope that a strange boy, who you only knew for a short time, will fly down and do what, I might ask ??"

Wendy fidgeted under her Aunts gimlet eye, her own flicking to the window as if for inspiration.

"I don't know," Wendy finally whispered reaching for her embroidery frame in an attempt to still her trembling fingers.

"You don't know," repeated her Aunt, throwing the journal onto the cushions beside her and getting to her feet in a rustle of skirts. "Well you should think hard about the answer to my question. Maybe then you'll clear the clouds from your eyes and see things as they really are. This Peter boy is part of your childhood, not your future Wendy Darling."

Having no answer for her Aunt, Wendy lapsed into silence, her thick lashes hiding the hurt and confusion in her blue eyes, her fingers going through the motions of setting neat stitches in her embroidery frame but her eyes not seeing the pattern for a film of tears blurring her vision. The morning passed agonisingly slowly, the requisite calls passing in front of her and the necessary small talk leaving her lips until Wendy felt that she was more machine than person. When the last visitor had risen and left, she excused herself to her Aunt and left the morning room, her skirts whispering across the floor as she approached, then climbed the staircase. On reaching her room she carefully shut the door behind her and leaned back against it for a second before approaching her bed and throwing herself onto its satin coverlet, the tears finally finding their release, her shoulders heaving as the sobs tore through her slender frame.

"He will come back........I have to believe it."

Once the storm was passed, Wendy sat up slowly and wiped her face with the heel of her hand, her lashes still spiked with tears. On the table beside her bed rested her small jewellery box. Opening the lid she reached in and entwined a loop of gold chain over a finger before lifting it out. On the chain hung a pendant that turned slowly for her inspection. It was the kiss that Peter had given her and had later saved her life from Tootle's arrow. Her father had had it coated in gold as a momento for her and she wore it whenever her dress allowed, careful to keep it from her Aunt's sight in case it further inflamed that women's antipathy to all things connected to Peter Pan. Holding up her hand she watched as the damaged acorn twirled lazily before her eyes, the sunlight striking sparks off the gold-encased leaves. Gathering up the chain in her fingers she brought the pendant to her lips and placed a kiss on the rounded smoothness, her mouth curving into a smile at her foolishness.

"Am I silly to believe that you'll return ?" She asked the acorn, closing her fingers over the hard shell, feeling it press into her palm. Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to picture Peter as she'd last seen him, but her mind stubbornly refused to recall the twelve-or-something year old boy that had first enchanted her heart. Instead her imagination conjured up an image of a face that would have made Adonis envious, a body made up of broad shoulders, well muscled arms that looked used to carrying a sword or wrestling with an Indian, of legs that were long and would carry their owner as far or as high as he wanted to go. The hair was the same, sun kissed and tousled, the skin like liquid copper, satiny and smooth and her recollection of his eyes always remained the same, the colour like emeralds shot through with fairy dust, their colour as changeable as the ocean, that reflected the stars and a million secret joys, their expression at once mischievous and vulnerable. Finally Wendy dwelled on Peter's mouth, remembering the dimples that appeared with his grin and the feel of them when she kissed him.

"Oh yes...I am very silly to believe, but it is a wonderful foolishness."

Lying back on her bed she gazed up at the ceiling, the golden acorn clasped loosely in her hand.

"I don't want to give you up Peter," she whispered, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes. "Please come back.....just once, before I am forced to."

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Time passed and Neverland lay in a state of limbo. The remaining Pirates had returned to the Jolly Roger but had found living on the ship difficult and boring. Without the Captain to instil fear into the crew they grew lazy, no-one wanting to do the hard work of maintaining the ships rigging so that on a trip around the main island, several of the sails became tangled in their own ropes and accidents eliminated another couple of crew members. Smee became the unofficial leader of the remaining crew and he decided that living aboard the stinking ship was not in their best interests. They anchored the ship in the most sheltered and shallow lagoon and then scuttled her, the ship settling into the sand, never to sail again. With timber from below decks they created a collection of ramshackle buildings on the sandy foreshore and settled into the life of land-lubbers. The Indians soon discovered their new neighbours and founded a healthy trade in goods between the two settlements. Meanwhile Peter slumbered on. TinkerBell visited him often, buzzing around his body in a vain attempt to awaken him, but no amount of tugging on hair or pinching of flesh raised a flicker of awareness in Peter. He appeared to be only asleep but it was more than that, changes were occurring in his body that were causing changes in the world of Neverland around him.

As his body changed so the land of his home also changed. As his dreams, and sometimes nightmares, caused him to move restlessly, so the long dormant volcano that dominated the centre of Neverland started to send out long plumes of smoke and caused the earth at its base to tremble. The Indians watched the signs with fear, their experience with such things limited at best. The Pirates also worried about the strange things happening to their island and consulted the Indians who, in turn, consulted the fairies. TinkerBell was called to account for Peter's whereabouts but she refused to tell, only recounting how Peter had arrived at Neverland and fallen into a deep sleep. The Fairy Queen questioned her closely about Peter and concluded, from the little that TinkerBell could tell her, that Peter was, in fact, growing up and the cause of all the changes around them. The Indians and the Pirates were all for finding Peter and waking him up, but the Fairy Queen cautioned them that the outcome could be worse if he wasn't allowed to finish what had been started. Smee, ever cautious, suggested they consult the Mermaids as to their chances of escaping the island if the volcano finally exploded. The Mermaids had kept themselves clear of the inhabitants of the island since Peter's return but were now eager to find out for themselves what was happening. Smee and the Indian's Chief met the watery seductresses on the rocks outside the Black Castle, tying themselves firmly to the rocks to avoid being drawn under the waves by mistake, but their caution was unwarranted. The Mermaids told of the sea-floor buckling and rising, of the fish leaving their usual haunts and becoming harder to catch, of hot vents spewing gases from underwater cracks that appeared to now ring the island. Smee related all this to the Fairy Queen who again forbade anyone waking Peter. Alarmed, the Pirates laid their own plans instead and the sound of trees being felled echoed through the darkened forests as they worked to build boats for their escape. The Indians trusted the Fairy Queen who insisted that while Peter lived there was no real danger to the inhabitants of Neverland and they watched the Pirates frenetic activity with curiosity. Around them, the island continued to heave and strain, the Volcano still smoking and the ground still quaking. Among all this, Peter slumbered on, his dreams running into each other, his body changing and growing while the jungle around his home became more lush and impenetrable, almost smothering the giant tree that sheltered him in its heart.

Time passed differently on the island and five years passed as if in a blink of an eye. The Fairy Queen had appointed TinkerBell to report on Peter's condition and it was a breathless Tink that raced into the Fairy Glen and reported that Peter appeared to be waking up. Alindra bowed her head and let go a long sigh, her wings drooping before fluttering upwards again to carry the Queen up into the air.

"It had passed....and all is well....but I fear that our time on this land is soon to pass as well."

The lights from the hundreds of fairy beings that inhabited the glen gathered around their Queen and hovered, awaiting her command. She rose up into the air and addressed her subjects.

"We will go to the old tree and see for ourselves what has happened to Peter Pan."

With an imperious wave, the Queen signalled to TinkerBell to lead the way, then like a bright comet the inhabitants of the fairy glen followed their Queen through the jungle.

When they reached the tree it was once more dusk, the last remnants of the sunset painting the grove in soft light. The Queen ordered her people to enter by all the tiny ways, their lights ringing the tree and lighting all the dark corners. The Queen slowly descended into the main trunk, TinkerBell leading the way. As their light chased away the shadows they saw a figure lying on the raised stone couch and approached cautiously.

The Fairy Queen hovered over the couch, looking down into the features of the young man that lay sprawled over the furs, her light caressing his face with a golden glow as she stared in astonishment at the new Peter Pan. His hair had grown long and fine hairs now covered his cheeks and chin. His limbs were also much longer, one arm hanging over the side and resting on the floor. His body had grown in width and breadth and the Fairy Queen travelled its length in wonder. Flying back to his head, Alindra hovered directly above him and called.

"Peter....Peter Pan, it is time to wake up,"

Around her the light increased as other fairy folk drew near, TinkerBell hovering nervously to the Queens right.

"Awaken Peter Pan and see what time has wrought,"

A flicker of the dark lashes below her caused her to back away slightly, but no further movement made her draw close again.

"Wake up Peter...you have slept long enough,"

Below her the finely shaped lips parted and a sigh broke from Peter.

"Don't scold Wendy, I'm awake already,"

"Peter...this is not Wendy, it is Alindra."

As the Fairy Queen waited, Peter's eyes slowly opened, blinking at the lights crowding around him.

"Alindra...why are you here ?"

"Time has passed Peter...a long time and there have been changes,"

"Changes ?"

"Your world has changed and so have you,"

"Wha..."

"Your body has grown up,"

At Alindra's words Peter's eyes snapped open wide, his mouth dropping open. Lifting up his hands he looked at them, frowning as he noted how big they appeared. Next he noticed how close the roots were to his face before turning his head to look at the room beyond his bed. He took in the dangling roots hanging from the roof and the dust coating all the surfaces as well as the cobwebs looped from every corner.

"What has happened....was I asleep so long ?"

"Very long Peter,"

Awkwardly, Peter shifted on the couch, his head hitting the roof when he tried to sit up. The fairies backed away to give him room, their light playing over his skin and casting deep shadows over his features. Confused at his body's size, Peter fell off the bed and sat sprawled on the dirt floor, his eyes taking in his big feet and long, well muscled legs before reaching up a hand to feel his face. With a cry he felt the hair coating his chin and his eyes flew to the Fairy Queen in terror.

"What has happened to me ?"

"Your body has grown up Peter....something has caused a change in you,"

"A change ?"

"Yes....you are no longer a boy,"

Peter could only look at her blankly, his mind confused and alarmed. Looking around the room he realised how small it all looked and for a moment he wondered if he was now too big to get through the openings.

Looking down at himself, he noted idly that his clothes seemed to have been shed at some stage and that other things had most definitely grown as well as sprouted hair in a most embarrassing way.

"I don't understand how this has happened, I only lay down to rest...I ached so badly, I just needed to sleep,"

Alindra floated in front of Peter's face, drawing his attention away from the anomalies of his matured body.

"What happened on Hook's ship Peter.....TinkerBell has told us some of what happened, but not all. She said Wendy gave you a thimble. Was that some potion that may have caused this to happen ?"

"No...I....no it wasn't a potion...she....Wendy saved me,"

"But how Peter ?"

"She...gave me something, she said it would always be mine, and mine alone,"

"What Peter...what did she give you ?"

Peter raised his fingers to touch his lips, almost feeling the soft touch of Wendy's kiss again.

"Love....she gave me...love,"

A collective chorus of sound greeted his statement and Alindra nodded her head as if finally understanding the whole.

"Then I know what you must do Peter,"

"What...what must I do....how can I go back to being a boy again ?"

"You must find Wendy and give her love back,"

"Will that return me to being a boy ?"

Alindra turned away from Peter so he couldn't see her face. She understood too well what might happen if Peter found Wendy, but she feared for the future of Neverland, feared for them all.

"It will decide your future Peter, your future and ours."

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Wendy rose at a knock at her bedroom door and hurried over to open it. Outside Alice held a tray.

"Your Aunt sent some supper for you Miss."

"Oh...well you'd better bring it in...I've been asleep, is it late ?"

"Not really...there's enough time to get you changed and ready to go out."

"Out ?" Wendy stared at the maid in confusion, sitting back on the side of the bed as Alice fussed about the room. She noticed it was now dark outside, Alice pulling the curtains closed with a snap.

"You have an invitation to join Mrs.Parry's party at the theatre. Her son James will be there. Don't you remember ?"

"Oh...of course." Wendy sipped her tea, staring off into the distance as Alice pulled open the wardrobe and lifted a dress off its hanger. Like an automaton, Wendy allowed Alive to change her out of her day dress and into the elegant creation lying on the bed, its colour like pale spring leaves which floated around her like a cloud. An hour later and she was dressed and coiffered, her gloves and cloak in hand. Before she left the bedroom, in a last act of defiance, Wendy lifted the golden acorn from her jewellery case and asked Alice to fasten the catch. It lay against her breast, glinting in the gas light and warming her skin.

"Your Aunt wanted you to wear the black choker with the cameo Miss,"

"Not tonight Alice....tonight I wear what I want,"

With a swish of skirts Wendy made her way down the stairs and into the parlour to await her Aunt. Her eyes immediately went to the windows but they were already curtained against the night. Sighing, Wendy looked up into the mirror over the fireplace and contemplated her elegant reflection.

"Would you even recognise me Peter if you saw me ?"

Pulling on her long gloves, Wendy turned away from the mirror and sat down. Her fingers strayed up and softly touched the golden acorn before returning to rest in her lap. The door opened behind her and Aunt Millicent swept into the room, her dark blue dress a glitter with jet beading.

"Well, lets hope your rest has improved your conversational ability my dear. James and his mother are very well connected and could open many doors for you Wendy."

"And windows ?"

"Windows ? What are you talking about."

"Oh nothing Aunt...nothing at all."

"Well then, if you are ready...Chilten has the carriage at the door."

Mutely, Wendy followed her Aunt to the front door, smiling faintly at the butler before walking down the steps and climbing into the waiting carriage. Pinning a smile on her face, her heart heavy, Wendy prepared to be as congenial as possible for her Aunt's sake. As the carriage pulled away a star streaked across the sky, its trail blazing for a second before disappearing into the night.

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Peter glanced down and saw the two ladies alighting the carriage but thought no more about it, his attention taken entirely by the search for the achingly familiar window of the Darling house somewhere ahead of him. He was still getting used to the new aerodynamics of his changed body, the wind buffeting him in ways he wasn't used to and causing him to veer off without warning. The clothes he wore were also hampering him, as well as feeling uncomfortable. After leaving the hideout Peter had flown with the Fairy Queen to the Pirates village in search of something to fit his grown-up body. Peter had wanted to use the leaves but Alindra had suggested that they were not up to the task of covering Peter adequately. Shrugging, Peter had decided not to argue, curiosity overcoming stubbornness as he wondered what had happened to Neverland in his long absence. The Fairy Queen sent most of her subjects back to the woodland glen before accompanying TinkerBell and Peter to the Pirate's new home.

Peter swooped low over the ramshackle collection of hovels and set himself down in the centre of the street outside the house that Alindra told him belonged to Smee. Peter had been glad to find that his ability to fly hadn't been taken away with his boyish body, but it was a tight squeeze for him to leave the ancient tree. Once outside, some of the fear and fright left him and he breathed deeply, the jungle air redolent with scents on that warm night. Now he approached the makeshift door that supposedly housed Smee and knocked loudly. A light shone through a window and Peter could hear footsteps approaching the door. It opened only a narrow crack and light spilled onto the street.

"Who is it ?" quavered a voice as its owner lifted the lantern higher.

"It is I, Peter Pan, Mister Smee,"

The lantern jerked and Smee jumped back from the door. Before he could close it Peter had pushed and it swung wide revealing the young man that was now Peter Pan to Smee's astonished gaze.

"Good gawd...you can't be Peter Pan...you're big!"

Alindra and TinkerBell both flew into the tiny house, their light shining brightly. Smee watched open mouthed as a very naked Peter Pan floated into the living room.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you its rude to barge in uninvited?" muttered Smee, peering out into the street before closing the door and turning to regard his visitors.

Alindra flew up to Smee and started to speak, her light reflecting in his round glasses. Smee listened and nodded occasionally, his head turning to regard the young man before him before turning back to Alindra.

"I guess that wouldn't be too much trouble, your Majesty," Smee finally answered, putting his lantern down on a table and walking slowly over to look Peter up and down consideringly. Peter stood on the wooden floor, his feet apart and arms folded. He felt terribly unsure, his face school into betraying none of the fear and embarrassment that caused his hands to shake. "I'll go and see what I can find, he's about the Captain's size so there's bound to be something he can use."

Peter watched as Smee approached a large, leather bound chest in the corner of the room, threw back the lid and started to pull items of clothing out apparently randomly. Alindra floated over Smee's shoulder and occasionally made a comment about items Smee held out to her. Finally he came back with a bundle of clothes and held them out to Peter who took them reluctantly.

"No good looking at me like that, young fellow-me-lad, you can't go around naked, it won't do."

"Won't do for what ?" asked Peter, his lip curling.

"Won't do for anything, that's what. You're not a child anymore."

Peter flinched at Smee's words, his eyes clouding as he clutched the bundle of clothes to his chest.

"Now take yourself off and get that lot on ya back. If you have any problems just shout out."

Peter allowed Smee to push him towards another small door beside the fire place and found himself in a small, but neatly kept bedroom. Smee shut the door behind him and Peter dropped the clothes on the bed. Picking them up he found a cream shirt with a wide collar, buttons down the front and long, ballooning sleeves that snugged into tight cuffs before ending in a ruffle of lace. It was a shirt he'd seen Captain Hook wear on many occasions. Pulling it over his head he found it covered him to the top of his thighs. The collar hung open with a deep vee, the ties hanging loosely, but for now Peter ignored them. A short vest, highly decorated was donned next, Peter admiring the elaborate embroidery and gold buttons before turning back to the bed. The trousers were next and Peter wrestled with them, finding them a snug fit and feeling strange against his new body. They fitted his waist but ended just below his knees. He left the shirt hanging out and reached for the boots. They were knee high and of the softest leather, black with a red edging around the top. Peter sat on Smee's bed and pulled one onto his right foot but he only got it half on before it stuck. No amount of tugging would get it up his calves so he pulled it off and left the boots on the floor. The last item was a hat that looked like the one he'd worn when taking the Jolly Roger back to deliver the Darling children home. Curling his lip, Peter tossed the hat back on the bed. Returning to the living room, he found Smee puffing a clay pipe while Alindra and TinkerBell floated above his head. When Peter appeared, Smee looked up and smiled a satisfied smile.

"Told you, he fits them clothes just fine."

"The boots were too tight," Peter told him when Smee looked pointedly at his bare feet. Alindra and TinkerBell both buzzed around Peter, sometimes tugging at the sleeves or tweaking the lace cuffs. Alindra then flew to Smee and whispered in his ear again.

"She says for me to do something about those whiskers and your hair," Smee explained, his watery blue eyes twinkling in the lantern's glow. When Peter took a step back Smee chuckled.

"I was barber to the Capt'n and you never saw a nick on that face, now did ya ? Well just relax and let ol'' Smee smarten you up, won't take a trick."

Smee steered a reluctant Peter to a chair beside the table before turning and rummaging in another locker beside the fire. Peter tried to appear nonchalant but he flinched when Smee swept a cloth over his head and settled it about Peter's neck.

"Is this really necessary ?"

Smee was laying out his tools of the trade before turning to fill a small pot with warm water from the kettle hanging over the fire. He turned back and regarded the youth staring back at him.

"I have no axe to grind with you Peter Pan. We've been living very quietly since the Captain passed, you have nothing to fear from me. Would Her Majesty bring you here if she thought there was any danger ?" Smee paused in the process of soaping up the small brush in his hand.

"N-o-o....go ahead Mister Smee.....have-at-ya!" Peter turned to stare straight ahead, not moving when Smee lathered up his chin and cheeks. Smee whistled while he worked, his blade catching flashes of light as it whisked around Peter's face. After completing the shave, Smee reached for a comb and started on Peter's hair. Both Alindra and TinkerBell watched in fascination as Peter's looks improved with every snip of Smee's scissors. Finally he was finished and he stepped back to admire his work, Peter's eyes swivelling to follow him as Smee ran his eyes over the boy's face and head.

"Prettiest job I've done in awhile...nice to know I haven't lost any of my skill."

TinkerBell was standing on the table in front of Peter, bouncing up and down and clapping her approval. Alindra looked on serenely and nodded her head, flying up after a moment to whisper into Smee's ear. Whatever she said made a wide grin light up the old man's face.

Smee bustled off and disappeared into his bedroom, emerging shortly with a large, full length mirror that Peter was sure he hadn't seen in there before. Smee propped it against a chair and stood back for Peter to see his new image. TinkerBell and Alindra floated above Peter's head to give him the best light as he approached the mirror. The man in the mirror stared back at him, a bemused expression on his handsome face. Peter felt his hand come up and touch his face but he had trouble reconciling it with the man in the mirror. Smee had cut his hair as short as he used to have it and it framed his head in a halo of blonde tipped curls. Turning his head back and forth Peter examined his new-old face and marvelled. The only constant were his eyes which carried a new light in their sea-coloured depths, along with the familiar stars and fairy dust. In the uncertain illumination of the fairies he was a loss to understand what that new light was, maybe Wendy would be able to tell him.

"Thank you Mister Smee."

"You're welcome lad."

Alindra fluttered around the two men, calling to Peter that it was time he left. Smee followed the boy and the two fairies to his front door, bidding Peter a safe journey, pressing a sword and leather belt scabbard into his hands before closing the door behind them. Peter padded down the narrow street to the small harbour, the bones of the Jolly Roger clear in the moonlight.

Peter looked up at the stars then turned around to the two fairies watching him. TinkerBell handed him his knife and his pan-pipes which he fastened to his sword belt. Alindra held up a gossamer fine chain with something attached. Peter held out his hand and the Fairy Queen dropped it into his palm. Peter looked and saw the kiss that Wendy had given him all those long days ago in the Darling nursery. It had been given a gold ring by the fairy craftsmen and now hung suspended off the gold chain.

"Thank you Alindra, now I can wear it always." Smiling at the bright fairy, Peter pulled the chain over his cropped head, the thimble coming to rest over his heart through the open neck of the shirt.

TinkerBell hovered closer to Peter's face, her wings fluttering.

"Goodbye Tink," Peter felt TinkerBell brush his cheek before she flew away, back into the jungle. Peter felt a lump in his throat and hurriedly cleared it before making his farewell to the Fairy Queen. "Goodbye your Majesty,"

"Goodbye Peter Pan.....I hope you find what you are looking for, but don't forget what you leave behind."

"I won't."

Pushing a small pouch into his hand, Alindra fluttered away, her light disappearing among the tall trees of the forest. Peter turned back and looked up at the moon rising so brightly overhead. Taking a deep breath he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the skies of Neverland, a streaking comet among the stars.

Now he floated above the blackened, sooty rooves of the city of London, his shirt sleeves flapping and his eyes searching the windows below. Finally he reached the streets of Bloomsbury, the chimney pots like old friends welcoming him home. On spying the tree outside the nursery, Peter alighted on the small balcony and peered into the room beyond. He abstractedly noticed that the small ledge appeared to have shrunk, his large feet taking up all the space. He pressed himself to the glass and looked into the nursery. At first glance it appeared that nothing had changed and Peter heaved a grateful sigh. But then he looked closer and his grin slipped. There were more beds in the room than before, and the bed with the heart at the base wasn't there at all. Peter panicked, his heart pounding painfully. He could feel the ache coming back and he absently rubbed his chest to ease it.

Taking a deep breath Peter pushed the window up, surprised that it wasn't locked. Crouching down he climbed inside and stepped down to the floor. He looked around the room, his eyes adjusting to the dim light thrown by the night-lights scattered around the room. He listened and heard the soft sounds of boys sleeping deeply, their dreams making them twitch and turn in their blankets. Hovering over the beds Peter inspected each occupant, surprised to find so many faces that hardly seemed recognisable. "Has it really been so long?" he mused, pausing above a bed that held a young boy clutching a much loved teddybear. "I know you, don't I?" Peter asked the sleeping boy, his voice barely above a whisper. Michael remained oblivious to his night-time visitor, clutching his bear closer as he sighed in his sleep. Peter visited each bed, the tousled heads of the former lost boys passing below him but still no sign of Wendy. Disappointed and frustrated, Peter alighted on the nursery floor and scowled at the beds. Noticing a carefully stacked pile of building blocks, Peter took aim with his foot and sent the whole lot crashing to the ground and skittering across the floor then he waited, his hands on his hips. Michael was the first to stir, yawning widely and sitting up in his bed. He looked around the room, almost missing the figure standing in the shadows, but something caught his attention because his eyes swivelled back and then rounded in surprise.

"Who are you ?" Michael asked, clutching his teddy closer. Peter flashed his grin and stepped from the shadows, light flooding his features, making Michael gasp. "I know you....I know you!"

Scrambling to his knees, Michael shuffled to the end of his bed and gaped open mouthed at Peter Pan as he rose into the air and crossed his legs Indian-fashion, coming to float just below the ceiling.

"Peter!"

Michael's delighted squeal woke some of the others and several tousled heads popped out from their blankets to stare round eyed at the boy from Neverland.

"What.....it can't be!"

"Peter ?"

"Its Peter!"

As he lowered himself back to the floor of the nursery, the former Lost Boys and Michael gathered around him, their hands reaching out to touch him reverently, as if unsure he really existed. Peter just let them explore, happy to let them. Nibs finally screwed up the courage to ask the question on everyone's lips.

"Why are you all grown up Peter?"

"Yeah.....how did you get so big?"

Peter raised his hand to still the clamour of voices all asking versions of the same question. Once the boys quietened, Peter spoke.

"I don't know why this has happened and I need Wendy to put it right. Is she here in the house and where's her other brother ?"

Michael exchanged looks with the other boys before stepping forward and explaining.

"Wendy doesn't live here anymore....you've been gone a long time Peter."

"Wendy doesn't live here.....then where is she?" fear sharpened Peter's tone which became harsh and demanding. Michael shied back a step, again looking to his siblings for support.

"She went to live with her Aunt, it was arranged for her before she went to Neverland Peter. She's been there ever since, she does visit often...although not much lately, and she doesn't play with us as she used to...but that's because of her Aunt...Slightly says she's very nice but I don't know...." Peter raised a hand to curb Curly's speech, his confused brain trying to sort out what Curly had said about Wendy.

"Her Aunt ?"

"Um.....yes...Aunt Millicent.....she lives fairly close...but I'm not sure where, as we don't get to visit often."

"Would John know ?" asked Nibs, looking over to Michael. Michael nodded his head. "Oh yeah, John would know."

Peter waved down the chorus of excited voices, the Lost Boys and Michael lapsing into silence.

"Where can I find John?"

"Oh....well he's away at boarding school," stated Curly, "He won't be back until the Christmas holidays."

"How long is that?" asked Peter, frowning. Curly only shrugged but Michael walked over to the wall and lifted down a sheet of paper that appeared to be covered in numbers.

"I made this at school Peter, it's a calender, it tells us how many days have passed. This is today's date," Michael pointed to one of the squares, "and this is when John will come home." Michael moved his finger to the bottom of the calender. Peter looked on in exasperation.

"But that's......forever, I need to find Wendy now," said Peter, getting to his feet and starting to pace. The boys drifted back to their beds and sat on them, gazing at their former playmate and Captain.

"You haven't told us what happened to you Peter...why you got so big...I thought you'd never...grow up!"

"So did I Michael....that's why I have to see Wendy...she'll know what's happening and how to stop it." Peter plumped himself down on one of the boys beds and gazed mournfully at his captive audience.

"We could ask Mother or Father," suggested Michael helpfully.

Peter looked sceptical, his mind filled with the image of Wendy's Mother sitting by the window wishing her children back. Peter remembered all to clearly his battle with the parents to close the window with Peter losing the tussle, his defeat a premonition of the fight to come with Hook.

"Will they help me ?"

"I don't know.....but I can ask for you,"

Curly snorted at Michael, punching his arm lightly. "You can't just go up and ask where Wendy lives, that will make them suspicious for sure."

Drawing himself up, Michael faced Curly down. "Who wins the make believe contest every time?"

A chorus of "You do" caused Michael to grin smugly.

"Leave it to me Peter.....I'll find out where Wendy lives. Stay here, I won't be long."

Peter watched bemusedly as Michael returned to his bed and gathered up his bear before heading for the nursery door. Peter and the remaining boys waited, Peter answering some of the boys questions, his ears listening out for any sound from outside the nursery. Within a few minutes Michael pushed open the door and slipped back inside. Peter jumped to his feet and waited expectantly.

"Fifteen Rosehill Road.....but I don't know which room Wendy is in."

"I'll know," Peter replied, a smile painting his face and making his eyes sparkle in the dim room. He immediately turned to leave but just as quickly turned back, making the boys nearest to him lean back in surprise. "Where is this......Rosehill Road?"

"Oh that's easy....its two streets down," Michael pointed to the left, "and a street across," he pointed again. "Then you count fifteen houses and you're there."

Peter tried hard to remember what Wendy had taught him about numbers but it proved elusive. "Fifteen ?"

Michael blinked before collecting himself, he walked over to the desk and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil. Quickly he sketched a make-shift map and handed it to Peter who turned the sheet in all directions before Michael showed him the right way to hold it.

"See Peter.....we're here and you go around the corner, along the street, turn here...go along that many doors and you're there."

"Hmmmm...okay...fine....sure," Peter screwed up his face in an effort to decipher Michaels squiggles. Michael tried again and this time Peter saw that he had drawn the map as if seen from the air, this time Peter understood and almost crowed his triumph, but stopped in time, not wanting to wake Mr.and Mrs.Darling.

"I have to go," Peter announced, folding the paper and tucking it into one of the vest pockets. He waved away the chorus of disappointment that greeted his announcement. "I'll come back after I fix things with Wendy."

"Okay Peter...say hello to Wendy for us...tell her we miss her stories," said Curly, shuffling his feet.

"I will....now I have to go," making his way to the large nursery window, Peter stepped onto the small balcony, the map firmly fixed in his minds eye. The boys crowded behind him and called goodbye as Peter launched himself off and flew above the roof tops and out of sight. Slowly the boys drifted back to their beds, Michael being the last to leave the window. Finally he joined his siblings and climbed back into his snug bed, Teddy firmly clutched under his arm. Curly turned over in his bed and stared at Michael.

"How did you find out Wendy's address?"

"I pretended I'd had a nightmare and wanted to go to Wendy....Father explained where she lived and how far away it was. Simple."

"You're good," said Nibs in awe. Soon the room was once more quiet and only the sounds of small boys sleeping disturbed the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wendy hid a small yawn behind her gloved hand, her eyes straying to the clock that adorned the fussy mantle-piece in Mrs.Parry's over decorated drawing room. James Parry shifted on the couch next to Wendy, his knee, hidden by Wendy's skirts, nudging her discreetly. Wendy attempted to shift away but found herself up against the overstuffed arm, her retreat blocked. Her Aunt and his mother were deep in discussion, their heads close together, their hands juggling tea cups as they spoke softly, every now and then glancing at the two young people on the sofa opposite. Wendy ground her teeth as another nudge threatened to spill her tea down her skirt. She tried to catch her Aunt's eye to indicate her need to leave, but Millicent was deliberately obtuse and ignored her niece's signals, continuing her conversation with a will. Wendy felt ready to scream but the door opening provided an escape.

"The carriage is ready M'lady," the butler intoned, standing to one side with the door open. Wendy almost leapt to her feet, joggling James and setting his cup rattling. Millicent looked faintly cross but turned a winning smile upon her hostess.

"What a wonderful evening Charlotte....I so enjoyed the play, we must arrange another visit in the near future,"

"Of course Millicent...its always a pleasure to see you and your charming niece, isn't that so James?"

So addressed, the young man could only stutter his reply, his eyes gazing adoringly at Wendy as she returned her cup to the tea trolley and turned to go.

"O-o-oh...y-y-y-yes, most p-p-pleasant e-e-evening Mrs.H-h-harding. I look f-f-forward to seeing y-y-y-you and Miss W-w-w-Wendy again soon."

Despite the stutter, Wendy read the sincerity in James voice and rewarded him with a small smile which he soaked up like a flower bathed in sunshine. Millicent and Charlotte exchanged a conspiriatory glance before leaving the room, Wendy and James following behind. After brief farewells, Wendy relaxed back into the comfortable squabs of the carriage for the short drive back home. Across from her, Millicent twitched her gloves and skirt.

"A most successful evening, don't you agree my dear?"

"Hmmmmm" Wendy murmured, her eyes unfocussed.

Thinking that Wendy had a long last succumbed, her Aunt mentally rubbed her hands together, visions of a white wedding floating in front of her eyes. Wendy, far from thinking about weddings, was contemplating how someone so nice a James could leave her completely unmoved except for pity. It wasn't that James wasn't handsome, or that he was unsuitable, it was just that James wasn't Peter.

And that said it all.

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Peter watched the carriage arrive, the clop of hooves alerting him as it pulled up to the steps three storey's below him. He perched on the gable, the wind tugging at him as he leaned over the sheer drop. He saw two women leave the strange box-like vehicle but he couldn't tell who was who. He'd found the house as Michael had directed, his first view through the window being a housemaid tidying a pretty bedroom at the top of the house before shutting the curtains and spoiling Peter's view. He'd checked the other rooms but none of them seemed either occupied or done in any style he could associate with his Wendy. He couldn't be sure that the room was Wendy's but he'd seen enough to tell him it belonged to a young woman and seemed too austere to belong to Wendy's fussy Aunt. He looked down, watching as the carriage disappeared around the corner, heading for the stables behind the house. Lights flickered out of several windows and Peter waited patiently for the house to settle for the night. Eventually there were only a couple of lights visible through their thick curtains, one of the windows directly below his perch. As he sat and waited Peter stared across the city skyline, the smoke rising lazily from the forest of chimneys dotting the roof tops, the distant outline of the huge clock that John had said was called Big Ben. As he swung his foot back and forth the huge clock struck the hour, its sonorous sound clear across the sleeping city. Another light flicked off in the house below and Peter inched forward, his teeth gleaming faintly as he saw that Wendy's bedroom light was still showing through the crack in the curtains. Pushing off, Peter floated down to the window ledge and settled off to the side, his ear pressed to the glass. He could see someone moving in the room through a small crack in the fabric, his view too restricted to see much more than a feminine figure as it passed the window. He heard a voice call a goodnight to someone called Alice, and the sound of a door closing before the main light clicked off leaving the soft light of the small bedside lamp to illuminated the bedroom. A small hand appearing in the gap between the curtains was his only warning before a woman pulled them back. Peter ducked to one side, flattening himself against the brick wall of the house. Whoever stood in the embrasure stayed there for several minutes before Peter heard the distinctive click of the window lock being moved. Thinking that is was being locked Peter tensed, ready to swing around and hammer on the glass but to his surprise the occupant of the room started to slide the window up, opening it to the night air, the thin wispy net curtaining billowing out, one corner touching Peter's face before he withdrew further along the wall. He felt terribly unsure of his reception, his usual cockiness tempered by awareness of his new appearance. He hovered out side, chewing his lip as the woman in the room stood unmoving at the window, Peter feeling that she must be staring up at the night sky, unaware of the chill of the evening breeze. He turned his head and stared at the area of sky that would be framed by the window and realised he was staring directly at his home star, its light bright and clear above the smoky city. He heard a sigh before the woman turned from the window, leaving it open. Peter edged closer and risked looking inside, his curiosity almost overwhelming.

Whoever was in the room was getting into the small bed, her filmy dressing gown dropping to the floor, her slippers kicked off haphazardly across the carpet, the bed creaking in protest as its occupant settled down for the night. Peter held his breath, the faint scent of perfume wafting out to meet him, the smell reminiscent of spring flowers mixed with heady tropical blooms. Peter filled his lungs and waited. After half an hour his patience was finally rewarded with the soft sounds of sleep from the room beyond his view. Silently he floated through the window, ducking to avoid hitting his head, touched down lightly and stood for a moment taking in the room around him. The soft pastel walls and lightly patterned florals reminded him of a garden, the pale-wood furniture warm in the soft light but the bed drew his particular attention, his eyes roaming over the outline under the covers. Smiling to himself Peter padded over and looked down at the woman lying so peacefully in her sleep.

Peter felt the breath leave his body. He had found the right room.

An ache started to swell in his chest, a familiar feeling but this time strangely different, as if he was full of something bright that needed to be released. Careful not to disturb her, he removed his sword belt, laying it down beside the discarded slippers on the floor, then Peter started to rise again, coming to hover directly above Wendy, like he'd done that first night when curiosity had got the better of him and he had to touch her, to make her real to him. Now the feeling was unbearably strong, his urge to touch the serene face relaxed in slumber overwhelming his feeling of confusion and insecurity. Shaking slightly, Peter reached out a cautious finger and gently touched the lips that had wrought so many changes in his life with their soft embrace. He traced their outline, fascinated at the new shape of Wendy's face, its finely arched brows, the thick lashes resting on smooth cheeks. His finger ran feather light over her face, lifting a tendril of silky hair and running it over his hand, revelling in the feel and texture. So absorbed had he become in the experience he failed to notice that the eyes that had been closed and sealed to his gaze were slowly opening, sleepy and slumberous but assuredly opening, their blue depths unfocused at first but rapidly sharpening as they perceived the face scarce inches from their own. A faint gasp alerted Peter that his scrutiny had roused the sleeper and his bright eyes clashed with her blue in a look that suspended time.

Wendy's hand had been resting palm upwards on the pillow beside her head, now she brought it up, questing to touch the face so close to her, the slender fingers tentatively touching the strong but dear face that smiled so engagingly down at her. Almost against her will her lips thinned and pulled into an answering smile, her teeth gleaming in the soft light that bathed them both in a circle of intimacy.

"I've dreamed of you...so many nights I've dreamed of you,"

"I'm no dream," Peter reached up his hand and softly pressed hers to his cheek, his warmth engulfing and heating her skin like a firebrand.

Still bemused, Wendy canted her head to the side, blinking slowly as she surveyed the boy-man floating above her, his complete disregard for personal space his constant failing, but her private delight. Again Peter reached down and ran a skein of hair through his fingers, the light catching gold as the hairs slid through to fall back onto her pillow.

Wendy reached higher and tangled her own fingers in his sun-kissed hair, threading them around his head and pulling him closer so that they lay a breath apart, almost nose to nose.

"If you were a dream......could I still do this?"

With a gentle tug Wendy pulled Peter down to her, their lips meeting in a kiss that started out soft and sweet but progressed very quickly to something that set both their bodies thrumming and their hearts racing. Peter braced his elbows on either side of the pillow, cradling Wendy's head as he angled his to deepen the kiss. The ache in his chest turned to a tumult of butterflies, his body remaining suspended, his eyes closed, sensation consuming him.

A growl from deep in his throat and an added pressure on her lips brought Wendy fully awake, her head jerky back slightly to break the contact, surprised to find her arms entwined firmly around Peter's neck while his hands bracketed her head, strong fingers buried in her hair.

Peter followed her lips, lost to all else but the incredible feelings racing through his body. Wendy lifted her hand and tugged at his short hair, breaking contact again and finally getting Peter's attention, his eyes clashing with hers, deep and stormy and burning with an inner fire.

"You aren't a dream.......you're here.....your real!"

To Peter's dismay Wendy's blue eyes started to sheen over, tears gathering, slipping from the corner of her eyes and sliding down to disappear into her hair. She closed them, overwhelmed with emotion, her lashes spiky and wet while Peter looked on, unsure what to do.

"Don't cry Wendy...please, I can't bear it when you cry...it hurts,"

Wendy hitched her breath, her lips parting, trembling, dragging in a ragged breath as she fought to stop her emotions sweeping her into a complete wreck, her hand coming up to cover her face. As Peter waited, his fingers smoothed the hair back from her face in an unconscious soothing motion, he let his body fall to the bed slowly, settling himself beside her, half leaning over but not actually on her. Finally, after a shuddering deep breath, Wendy lifted her hand and turned her head to regard the face so close to hers. Her hand once more reached over from where it had fallen back to the pillow, her fingers smoothing a winged eyebrow, following the line from cheek bone to chin, feeling the soft rasp of bristles under her pads before tracing the outline of the lips that had seconds before been pressed to hers.

"You forgot me Peter........you forgot your promise,"

"I didn't forget Wendy.....I could never forget.....something happened to me....to Neverland.....haven't you noticed ?" he flicked his eyes down to indicate his matured body, " I got big."

A chuckle rose in her throat, breaking from her lips and curving them into a sweet smile. "I noticed that. My Peter has all grown up,"

A frown instantly marred Peter's brow, his eyes skittering away and turned dark, his lips thinning into a grimace.

"I'm not grown up," he stated, "I just grew,"

Smiling at his denial, Wendy refrained from any more comments, her eyes drinking in the changes, seeing how her beautiful boy had turned into the most handsome young man she'd ever hoped to see. A corner of her mind reminded her that the reality wasn't that far from what her imagination had been conjuring during the long years and she wondered how she'd known what Peter would look like as a grown man.

"Tell me what happened Peter,"

Shifting slightly onto his side, Peter reached up a hand and ran it through his hair, mussing is further.

"Alindra said that I fell asleep when I arrived back from taking you home,"

"Alindra?"

"The Fairy Queen...you saw her dancing in the hollow tree,"

"Oh yes......dancing,"

Peter shot Wendy a quick glance, her husky voice igniting a fire again inside him, his body tensing again. Clearing his throat he ignored the blue eyes that roamed over his face, concentrating on his story and not the warm curves turned so trustingly into the shelter of his body.

"But it wasn't an ordinary sleep......it lasted forever, or at least a very long time, and while I slept I grew.....no-one can explain exactly why. Neverland has been changing too."

"No-one?....not even Alindra ?"

"Um......she did suggest.."

"What Peter?.....you don't have to leave Neverland forever, do you ?"

"No...no...nothing like that. She said......I had to return your love, give it back to you,"

He lifted his eyes to meet Wendy's, not sure of her reaction.

Wendy lay quiescent, her head slightly turned away as she considered Peter's words. Worried by her lack of response, Peter used the tip of a finger on her chin to return her attention back to him.

"Wendy ?"

"I'm sorry Peter......I'm not sure what to say. If I understand you....and Alindra....the kiss....er thimble...I gave you, and which saved your life.......you have to give that back to me ?"

"I think that's what she meant,"

"And this will return you back to your former self ?"

"Um.....I don't know...Alindra wasn't exactly specific, but she said my future and the future of Neverland depended on it."

Wendy turned thoughtful again, her eyes leaving his face to stare at the ceiling above them. Peter once more drank his fill, his gaze moving from her face down her long neck to the edge of her night-rail. A glint of light proved to be a chain and he hooked a finger under the fine links, pulling the necklace into the light. The gold chased Acorn flashed as it dangled from his fingers, twirling lazily, the hole the only mar on its perfection. Wendy watched through lowered lashes as Peter inspected the "kiss", his brow furrowing slightly as he inspected it. As if in a dream, he dropped the acorn on its chain and lifted his hand to his shirt front, pushing aside the material to release the chain encircling his own neck, its burden swinging out to hang in front of Wendy's incredulous eyes. The thimble she'd given him so long ago shone brightly, its pitted surface reflecting sparks as it hung from Peter's fingers.

"You didn't forget," Wendy breathed, tears once more sheening her eyes, but this time forestalled as she blinked them away, swallowing hard. She reached out and touched the small talisman, warm from Peter's skin, her fingers closing around his to trap it between their hands. Peter gripped the thimble tightly, Wendy's touch as fierce as his own.

"I could never forget...anymore than you."

A bubble of pure joy forced its way from Wendy's throat, her arms once more twining around his neck, her body rising from the bed as she pulled him into a hug that almost felt as if she was trying to climb inside his skin. She inhaled deeply, revelling in his scent of sunshine and sea before letting the bubble burst and a peal of pure laughter escape her lips. Peter held her tight, grinning into her slim shoulder, his doubts and fears retreating in the glow of his Wendy's welcome.

Pulling back slightly, Peter sat more upright, Wendy following him so that they ended up facing each other, hands entwined.

"I want you to come back.....back with me......tonight, now.....this second!"

"Come back...to Neverland?"

"Fly with me Wendy....fly away back to my home,"

"But...." Peter clamped his hand across her mouth as he'd done to stop her denouncing fairies. Wendy's eyes widened in surprise as such rude handling but she didn't speak when he lowered his fingers, frowning at her, his eyes fierce.

"You don't belong here......you belong with me....we belong together, it's what Alindra meant, I see that now....you and me together, we can do anything."

"What about my life here? what about the Lost Boys....my brothers....my family?"

Abruptly Peter stood up, the bed rocking with the force. He once more ran a hand through his already disordered hair before turning his back on Wendy and pacing off, turning almost immediately to face her, his expression at once confused and imperious.

"You said you'd dreamed of me.......what need would you have of dreams if you didn't truly want to return to Neverland....return to me?"

Under his direct gaze Wendy dropped her eyes, her fingers pleating the bed linen as she tried to organise her disordered thoughts.

"I did dream about you....so often I lost count. I hoped every night that you would fly down and take me away, so many times I wanted you to.....but I have waited so long, I think......I think I've forgotten how to fly. Its not just a simple matter of - do I go with you..or not....I have a family here Peter. My mother and father, my aunt, my brothers.....I can't just give that all up." She gestured helplessly at Peter. "You say you have to take my love back for everything to return to the way it was...but I don't want things to be the way it was...I like how I am now." She looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading his understanding. "I have grown up Peter, in body as well as mind...and I don't want you to take back my love if it means that I have to give up everything I know and love here." She heard Peter draw in his breath sharply, his eyes darkening as they watched her. Unable to bear the recrimination she thought she saw in his eyes, Wendy dropped hers once more to the bedspread, tears gathering and falling as she finally lost control and gave into the urge to weep, her hands coming up to cover her face.

Peter chewed on his bottom lip, conflicting emotions chasing across his face. Anger that she would repudiate his offer, fear that she might actually mean all that she'd said, Joy in his heart that she felt so strongly about him that she was torn between her world and his, confusion as to how to convince her to follow her heart and his. Eventually he couldn't bear not to touch her again and he sat down once more on the bed, gathering her into his arms and rocking her as he'd seen her do with the Lost Boys when they'd needed comfort from some minor hurt. Wendy wept into his neck, her tears soaking his shirt as he softly rubbed her back, murmuring nonsense as she released her pent up emotions against his chest.

Eventually the storm passed and he felt her hands creep around his back, her fingers gathering up his shirt and holding tight, her breath warm on his skin as she drew in shuddering breaths in an attempt to calm herself. Peter buried his nose in her silky hair, his eyes closing as he tried to absorb the very essence that surrounded her, his arms tightening around her until there wasn't a space between them and they sat clasped, chest to chest, silent and entwined.

"Come back with me Wendy.....I won't ask you to stay forever if you don't want to....but come back and stay with me...just for awhile. I'll bring you back whenever you want....just....please....come back, it will be our grandest adventure."

Sniffing, Wendy pulled back, her eyes downcast as she tried to bring some order to her wet cheeks and red nose. Peter released her, watching silently as she reached under her pillow for a small square of linen to wipe her eyes and nose, his heart thumping as he waited, so unsure of her answer. With a final blow, Wendy put aside the hanky and turned to face him, her eyes like the ocean after a rain storm.

"I will come back with you Peter....but I must write a letter explaining, for everyone I leave behind. And I will want to come back to see them....but more than anything, I do want to see Neverland again with you."

Peter sat for a moment, stunned and not entirely sure that he had heard right. "You do want to come back with me?"

Wendy smiled at his confused expression, her eyes lighting up as he answered her smile with a faint one of his own.

"Yes Peter....I do want to fly back with you.....tonight, right now...right this second."

"But you said.......you said,"

"I know.....I still stand by what I said, I don't want to go back to being a little girl Peter, I like," she gestured vaguely at herself," all this, and there is so much I can do as I am, that I couldn't do before.....so that hasn't changed. But I do want to go with you, its what I've dreamed for so long and been so long denied."

"I never meant to stay away so long Wendy."

"I know you didn't....and I'm sure we'll find...whatever has caused this," again she waved vaguely at Peter," in Neverland...together!"

For a second Peter simply stared at her, almost too overcome to move.

"Peter? Did you hear me?" Wendy waved her hand in front of Peter face, her own smiling broadly at his stunned expression.

As if stung by a bee, Peter suddenly jumped off the bed, his heart too full to allow him to remain still. With a push he was airborne again, swooping up to the ceiling before jackknifing and flying around the room, Wendy looking on with a smidgin of trepidation, her eyes following his lithe body as it twirled and twisted, her hands clasped against her chest. In a move that knocked her on her back, Peter swooped low and came to hover once more directly over her, his arms outstretched, his face alight with mischief and something wickedly alive that Wendy found irresistible. Peter remained above her, his lips curved in a grin that Wendy remembered from her first encounter with Peter Pan. A grin that promised much and sent a thrill running down to her toes.

Placing her hands on his chest she pushed him up and away so that she could once more sit upright and swing her legs off the bed. Peter slowly floated to the floor, standing watchfully as Wendy got up and moved to the desk in the corner, lighting the candle and pulling out the neat chair before sitting down, picking up sheets of paper and opening the inkwell then dipping her pen. She chewed on its end for a few seconds then started to write, her pen flying over the sheets in a neat, concise hand. Peter sauntered over, his arms crossed, to see what she was doing, his curiosity piqued. Wendy ignored his presence, her thoughts concentrated on what to tell her family. As she continued, Peter grew bored and turned away, his pacing taking him to the tall bureau where he started to pull out drawers and inspect their contents. The top three small drawers contained gloves and other accessories, all of them scented with little sachets trimmed with lace. He held one up to his nose, inhaling the fragrance so reminiscent of Wendy herself. He shut them and moved onto the next set, the bigger drawers holding pieces of fabric that he assumed were more clothes. They were mostly filmy and slipped through his fingers, silky to the touch like Wendy's hair. He bunched the material in his hand and again held it up to his nose, inhaling the perfume.

"Peter!" Wendy's outraged laugh made him drop the dainty articles in a hurry, his hands slamming the drawer shut as he turned his back, an innocent grin plastered to his face.

"I was only looking.....if you plan of wearing those things, they won't last long in Neverland. Don't you have something a bit more.....hardy ?"

"I'm sure I'll find something suitable to wear Peter....but in the meantime tell me.....how did you know where I was?"

"Michael told me....he found out from your parents and drew me a map." He pulled the scrap of paper out of his pocket and showed it to her. "I didn't know if this was your room, but it was."

"Oh the cleverness of you," Wendy smiled, turning back to continue writing. Peter cast the bureau a lingering look before turning to regard the bookshelf beside it. He pulled down one of the book and opened the cover, a picture of a ship instantly drawing his attention.

"What's this book about ?" He asked, thumbing the pages and seeing more pictures of different ships. Wendy glanced over and shrugged.

"I got that from the circulating library, its a book about ships, both past and present, that are part of the British Navy. I use it when I'm writing my stories."

Peter looked up at her last comment, noticing the flush painting Wendy's cheeks before she returned to her letter.

"Your stories? Have you written any about me?"

Sighing deeply, Wendy put down her pen and turned back to face him, her eyes catching his for a minutes before dropping in embarrassment.

"They are all about you Peter."

Grinning unashamedly, Peter put the book back on the shelf and padded over to her, crouching down on his haunches to look up at her. Wendy leaned on the back of her chair and reached out a hand to ruffle his sun bleached hair.

"You wrote stories about me. Did I win?"

"Yes Peter.....you won every battle, and lived happily ever after."

"Are you in the stories?"

"Yes....I fought those battles right beside you."

"And did we live happily ever after?"

Smiling dreamily, her fingers still tangled in his hair, Wendy sighed again.

"Yes Peter......we lived very happily, every time."

"Can I see?"

Turning away, Wendy gripped the papers she'd been using before lifting the lid of the desk and pulling out a thick manuscript, the cover a rich red Morrocan leather bound with a strip of gold cord, tassels hanging from an elaborate knot. Closing the desk, Wendy held the precious book to her chest for a second before twisting around and handing it over to the boy-man crouched at her knee. Peter smiled uncertainly as she handed it over, his hands feeling the butter soft leather and the weight of paper held in between its leaves.

"All these stores.....you must have been writing forever," he regarded them with awe.

"All my dreams are on those pages Peter. Nobody's read my stories, although the boys have heard several of them over the years."

"Can we take it to Neverland.....I want you to tell me these stories Wendy....please?"

"I would like that....but I must finish this before I go, so let me get on."

Sitting once more on the bed, Peter listened for a moment to Wendy writing, the scratch of the pen the only sound in the room. He placed the book of Wendy's stories on the bed beside him, his fingers smoothing the leather almost reverently. He saw his sword on the floor and picked it up, belting it around his slim waist before setting off to inspect the room again, this time heading for the window and peering outside. The moon had risen and shone directly in front of him, his star dimmed against the bright lunar light. Bracing his hands on each side of the frame he breathed deeply of the night air, oblivious of the chill, his eyes searching the heavens for the familiar constellation. His heart felt light and carefree, the ache almost completely gone, all his insecurity and confusion washed away by a pair of soft hands that made his skin come alive under their touch and blue eyes that mirrored the ocean in their depth.

Behind him, Wendy folded her letter, finished as last, and wrote several names on the fold before pressing a kiss to the paper and rising to her feet. She walked to the small fireplace and put the letter behind one of the small ornaments, positioning it so that it stuck out for anyone to notice. Peter had turned and watched her, noting the slight droop to her shoulders as she stepped back from the mantle and stared for a moment at the letter.

"Wendy?"

"I'm almost ready Peter...I just need a few things, you can't expect me to live in just my nightie....not this time anyway."

Peter stepped out of the window embrasure and cocked an eyebrow at her, his expression curious. Wendy grimaced at him and headed back to the bed, bending down to pull something out from under it. A large carpet back appeared and Wendy pulled it up onto the bed, the manuscript the first thing to go into it.

"I won't need much Peter....just a few bits and pieces."

Peter only shook his head at her in amused tolerance as she bustled about, pulling open drawers and inspecting their contents before selecting one or two items and tossing them towards the bed, some of them landing on the floor at his feet. He watched her closely, his gaze taking in her new shape and the way she moved, or more rightly swayed, her body all soft curves, dips and hollows and other intriguing shapes that appeared and disappeared as her nightdress swirled around her in her haste to sort out her clothes. Her hair also swirled around her shoulder like a silken cloak, his fingers itching to catch it and run it through them, his body starting to thrum again the more he thought about it until he had to turn away and let the cold night air wash over him, cooling his skin and dulling the sensations swamping him.

Finally Wendy appeared to have finished her sorting, the bed squeaking faintly as she stuffed items into the capacious carpet bag, the clasp closing with a snap. She was still wearing her nightdress, having donned her wrapper and tied it tightly around her waist, unconsciously emphasising her hips and breast, her feet encased in the slippers formerly discarded. A blue ribbon held her hair back and she grasped the handle of the bag with slightly shaking fingers.

"I'm ready Peter."

With a grin he held out his hand to her. Wendy let go of the bag and gripped his long fingers with one hand. They stepped out of the window and Wendy gasped at the cold air as much as the sheer drop that lay inches from the window ledge where they stood. Peter reached across and took the bag, smiling when Wendy gripped his hand even harder, her knuckles turning white. He hefted the bag in his hand and slowly floated off the ledge, never letting go of Wendy's hand so that he came to hover in front of her, his teeth gleaming in the light from the bedroom. Wendy had her eyes closed, her free hand clenched into a fist. A frown marred Peter's face before realisation dawned on him. She was afraid.

"Trust me Wendy.....I won't let you fall....let go....let go,"

He tugged gently at her fingers, keeping a firm grip until he felt Wendy take a deep breath and step off the ledge, her eyes still closed. Peter drew her hand to his shoulder and waited for her to grip his shirt before letting go and quickly wrapping his arm about her waist, pulling her to him in a close embrace. Surprised at the move, Wendy let go a gasp of surprise and opened her eyes, finding her self once more nose to nose with Peter. He was grinning infuriatingly, his eyes shadowed.

"That wasn't so hard....was it?"

Wendy glanced down and saw her slippered feet dangling three storeys from the road below, her hands clutching convulsively at Peter's shirt as they twirled lazily outside her bedroom window.

"I hope you have a good store of happy thoughts Peter, it's going to take me awhile to get the hang of this again,"

"I have enough happy thoughts to last forever Wendy," he whispered, his breath washing over her face like a summer breeze, her body relaxing against his as he held her, his arm strong against her back, her fears retreating like snow before the sun.

They started to rise up slowly, the houses dropping away below them, the moon bathing them in cold light. Peter angled away and started to fly slowly over the roof tops, his eyes flicking between Wendy and the way ahead. She still clutched his shirt but not quite so desperately, his arm secure around her waist, her confidence returning the further they went. Within seconds Peter was slowing and Wendy looked forward to see the familiar window of her old nursery coming up on their right, the window shut. Peter lowered them to the small balcony and Wendy's feet touched down gently, Peter beside her.

"Peter?"

"I told the boys I'd come back before I left...and I knew you really wanted to say goodbye to them yourself."

Deeply touched, Wendy felt tears pricking and she buried her face in his shoulder for a minute before pulling herself together and reaching for the window. Together they pulled up the sash and looked into the nursery, the night lights casting a soft glow over the beds and their occupants.

Stepping inside Wendy glided over to Michaels bed and gazed down at the tousled head, her heart heavy. Shaking the narrow shoulder she watched at her brother awoke, his eyes blinking up at her as he fought off sleep.

"Wendy?"

"Yes love, its me....I've come to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?.....then Peter found you okay?"

"Yes love, he did....and I'm going back to Neverland with him."

"Will you be happy now?"

Surprised that her brother would be so aware of her emotional state, Wendy could only raise her eyebrows in surprise, eliciting a giggle from Michael.

"Don't look so surprised Sis....I've known since the day he left that he would return......for you."

"Then you knew more than me Michael....and I'm glad you did." They exchanged a conspiriatory smile before hugging each other fiercely. Wendy released him and became more serious.

"You have to try and make Mother and Father understand, I've written them a letter but it might help if you talk to them as well."

"I'll do that Wendy.....don't cry," Michael lifted a finger to catch a tear that slipped its wet path down Wendy's cheek.

"I'll miss you little brother..take care of the others for me....tell them stories....if I can, I'll come back and visit....as often as I can."

"I know.....be happy Wendy....I don't like it when you're sad,"

"I will be Michael," Giving her brother a final hug, she rose to her feet and approached each of the other beds, her body bending as she kissed each of the Lost Boys in turn, some of them stirring slightly, but most just turning over in their sleep. She glanced back once more and waved to Michael before walking to the window, her hand finding Peter's unerringly.

"Goodbye Peter....goodbye Wendy....have a grand adventure,"

Michael watched them duck through the window, their bodies rimmed by moonlight for a brief moment before lifting off and disappearing. Biting back the urge to cry, Michael clutched his battered teddy closer and burrowed under the covers, his sniffs muffled by the bedding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter: Two - The Return
A grand adventure where new friends abound and old enemies flourish.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wendy gasped anew at the sight spread out before her. They had just crossed the boundary between her world and his, their flight through the cosmos as breathtaking as the first time. As they speeded up to break through the final barrier, Wendy held tight to Peter's shirt, his arm a solid band around her waist. Together they plunged into the brightest light and into the deepest darkness, stars surrounding them as they slowed.

"Oh Peter...I'd forgotten." She gazed in awe as the brilliant yellow globe of the sun rose slowly and majestically above the horizon, bathing the island peaks in a rosy glow, its rays like searchlights, highlighting all the details.

"Welcome home, Wendy,"

She turned her head to grin at him, her chest filled to bursting with emotion. Peter returned her grin with one that set her pulse racing, before cocking an eyebrow at her and tightening his grip before swooping towards the island laid out below them. Wendy shrieked as they plummeted through the clouds, cold wisps brushing her face and teasing her hair before parting to reveal the ocean rippling far below, getting closer by the second. Peter levelled off and they flew more slowly, Wendy now able to make out more details as they approached. She saw the tall peak of the volcano, its head shrouded in a crown of clouds. Below them was the sweep of Mermaid Bay, the rocks draped with several female forms that lifted languid arms upwards as if to snatch Peter and Wendy from the sky itself. Seabirds rose in a cloud to greet them, circling the strange birds that floated across their sky. Further along the coast Wendy spotted a mast canted to the side and pointing like a bony finger, its bulk largely lost in the shallow waters of a lagoon.

"Is that the Jolly Roger?"

"Yes....I'll tell you all about it when we get settled,"

Keeping her curiosity in check Wendy looked to the shore and saw a motley collection of ramshackle shacks lining the white sandy beach, several plumes of smoke rising lazily into the air.

"The pirates?"

"Aha," Peter answered, his eyes ignoring the vista below to scan the forest ahead. As if in answer to an unknown signal, bright points of light started to stream from the centre of the great forest, their number so great it looked like golden ribbons rising from the trees. Peter squeezed Wendy's side to draw her attention and she gasped at the sight of the fairy population rising to greet them. One light appeared brighter than the rest and she rightly conjectured that this would be Alindra. Peter brought them to a halt and hovered, still several feet above the tops of the giant trees, waiting for the fairy host to reach them. Soon they were surrounded in a flashing cloud of fluttering wings and tinkling voices. Wendy watched enchanted as they approached her, their tiny bodies flitting around her until she felt blinded by their brilliance and drowned in fairy dust. So absorbed in the spectacle she didn't notice when Peter released his hold on her so that she now floated on her own. He kept close, in case she panicked, but her absorption in the fairies was complete and she didn't notice at all, her expression enraptured.

Alindra approached the pair, her hands outstretched in welcome and Wendy watched bemused as the Fairy Queen flew straight up to Peter's face and embraced him while her court fluttered around, their bell like voices raised in celebration. Alindra then floated to Wendy and hovered in front of her face, inspecting the young woman closely. As if pleased with what she saw, Alindra moved closer and extended her hand to touch Wendy's face before fluttering back and surveying the two.

"You have returned to us Peter Pan. I see that you have accomplished part of your quest in bringing the Wendy that you sought,"

Wendy shot a quick look at Peter, her eyes wide, silently asking for a translation of the bell-like speech.

"Alindra says hello," Peter translated, giving her a grin. Wendy felt sure there was more to it than that, but held her tongue, content to wait until she could quiz him later.

Alindra continued. "Neverland has languished without you here Peter....but we have been busy since you left. As you no longer fitted the home you have known as a boy, we created, with help from the pirates and the Indians, a new home for you."

Wendy noted the pained expression that crossed Peter face, followed quickly by a frown.

"A new home?"

"Follow us Peter.....I think you will find it....appropriate,"

Without waiting for an answer, Alindra swept away, her fairy folk lining up behind her and streaming off towards the forest. Peter exchanged a glance with Wendy before reaching for her hand once more and tugging her along beside him. It was then that Wendy realised she had been floating entirely on her own throughout Alindra's speech. She felt a moment of panic but it was quickly squashed as the familiar and long forgotten feeling of flying filled her, her confidence soaring as they skimmed the trees. Ahead of them the golden ribbon of fairy folk wound its way between the tree-tops. Peter noted that they were still heading towards his old home in the giant of the forest and he was consumed with curiosity. He could see the top of the tree and what appeared to be several bulky shapes among its branches. He frowned as they approached but his face cleared as he understood what had been done.

"It's a tree-house," he shouted gleefully, his face alight with excitement. Wendy peered ahead and saw a series of hut-like structures connected by hanging rope bridges all strung amongst the enormous branches of a huge tree. As they got closer they saw that the treehouse was nestled securely among the foliage, cleverly disguised and almost appearing to be part of the tree itself.

"Oh how clever they are, its wonderful,"

Peter brought them both down to land on a wide bamboo platform that acted as a balcony for one of the larger huts, its roof thatched in the living leaves of the tree itself. Alindra hovered above them, her fairy folk flitting in and out of the windows and doors of the huts, while Peter and Wendy looked on in wonder.

Peter put down the carpet bag he was still holding and approached the fairy host, holding out his hand and waiting for the Queen to alight. Alindra fluttered down, accompanied by another fairy that Peter recognised instantly.

"Tink...its great to see you,"

TinkerBell twittered and buzzed around him, her light never still. Peter laughed when she perched on top of his head, her laugh echoing his like a trill of crystal bells. Wendy stood to the side, entranced by her surrounding, touched by the effort that had gone into the enormous structure, all for their benefit. She leant on the banister rail that bordered the platform they were standing on, her gaze drawn to the sheer drop, the ground lost among the branches of the trees below them. Turning back she saw that the Fairy Queen was still standing on Peter's hand and once more talking to him. Happy to leave them to catch up, Wendy walked over the wooden slats and approached the hut, looking through the doorway into the room beyond. Several fairies still fluttered around and their light illuminated the corners, highlighting the rough furniture and woven mats that covered the floor. She had read a story once about a family lost at sea and cast upon a desert island where they built a tree-house to live in. Now Wendy would have the opportunity to experience that life for herself. After the staid regulations of London life, this was going to be truly an adventure to write about.

"Wendy?"

She left the hut and stepped once more into the bright morning sun, squinting slightly after the dark interior.

"Yes Peter?"

"Alindra is leaving....she wanted to say goodbye."

Stepping to Peter's side, Wendy looked down at the tiny Queen perched on Peter's outstretched hand. Alindra looked up at the girl and fluttered up so that she was in front of Wendy's face.

"Be happy Wendy.....our lives, and your future are in your hands."

Wendy looked to Peter to translate and she caught a fleeting expression on his face before he caught her eye and smiled broadly.

"Alindra says goodbye," he told her, an innocent look plastered on his features, a look belied by the twinkle in his eye.

"I'm sure she said more than that," Wendy muttered before turning back to regard the Queen.

"Thank you Your Majesty. And thank you for all of this, it's wonderful."

Alindra nodded her head regally then turned and started to fly away, her fairy folk gathering in a golden stream behind her. They watched as they disappeared among the trees.

With a shout Peter leapt into the air, twirling around before turning a cartwheel, Wendy clapping her hands and laughing at his antics. He briefly alighted in front of her but only long enough to pull her into his arms before leaping into the air once more, this time to twirl her around until she felt breathless, her laugh ringing out as they whirled and dipped, Wendy holding out the skirts of her nightdress like a wing, Peter holding her in his embrace as they danced among the sunbeams slicing through the leaves above them. Wendy flung her head back and closed her eyes, Peter's arm secure around her back, his hand clasping hers.

"I could dance like this forever," she gasped, bringing her head up and gazing at him, her eyes like twin stars. Her hair flowed behind her as they slowed down, its strands tangling in their arms, covering them like a cape. Peter set them down on the balcony again, Wendy breathless and filled with delight. She rested her forehead on his chest for a minute, panting slightly as she came back to earth. Peter stood quietly, his body suffused with warmth, his heart too full for words.

As her breathing returned to normal Wendy became aware of Peter's heart beating under her cheek, steady and strong, just like its owner. Stepping back she pulled away, disentangling her hair with a self conscious smile.

"This isn't going to be very practical here, is it? Maybe I should cut it short."

"NO!"

She looked up in surprise at his vehemence, her eyes wide. Peter grinned back at her, quirking an eyebrow.

"I like it like that....it's soft."

"Well....if you like it." Smoothing the hair away from her face, Wendy twisted it into a loose knot behind her head to keep it clear before turning to face the hut behind them. Peter stepped around her and went to stand in the doorway.

"It would make a nice sitting room," Wendy suggested, taking in the window seat against one wall and the rude but sturdy chairs against the other wall. Peter cast her a glance before nodding.

A gleam sparked in his eyes and he reached for her hand once more.

"Let's explore."

The rest of the day was spent in the excitement of finding all the hidden treasure scattered throughout their new home. They found huts for all manner of uses, all connected by rope bridges that spanned the gnarled branches like spiders webs. Wendy had found a collection of smallish huts containing sleeping quarters for half a dozen people and she wondered if they would be able to have the Lost Boys and her brothers stay with them again. Further along she found two rooms separate from the rest, their roof and walls entirely made of entwined vines woven together in intricate patterns. Inside she found one room decorated with gossamer thin swathes of shimmering fabric that moved with the breeze, the walls sprouting multi-coloured trumpet flowers that exuded a heady scent. Against one wall of the curved room a wide, raised platform held a curtained bed, the same shimmering fabric providing a screen of privacy around it. Pushing aside the wispy curtain she found a bed piled high with soft furs the colour of her hair, her fingers finding their texture enticing and exciting. Giving into her impulse she hitched up her skirts and crawled onto the bed, her fingers threading through the long hairs, revelling in their silky feel. She stretched up to the pillows that were scattered across the head, finding them made of the same fabric as the curtains, their surface cool and smooth under her questing fingers.

Sighing deeply Wendy flopped onto her back, the furs embracing her body and encasing her in comfort.

"Hmmmmmm." She hummed to herself, eyes closed, her hand lazily stroking the covers.

Peter entered the room quietly some minutes later, his eyes skating around the walls and coming to rest on the bed. They had explored almost all the tree house and now it was getting dusk outside, the sun sending orange streaks across the sky, the clouds turning pink and purple as he watched. They'd feasted on fruit when they got hungry, a room set out with a table and a dozen chairs, covered in a banquet of food, found not far from the landing platform, as they'd named it. After that they drank water from an old ships barrel that had been polished to a high gleam, the water inside cool and sweet, from goblets that Peter had said were from Hooks treasure, a trophy from some past battle.

Now he stood inside the door of Wendy's room, the old carpet bag clasped loosely in one hand, a sheaf of flowers in the other. Dropping the bag he padded over to the bed, pulling aside the curtain, his eyes drinking in Wendy's form as she dozed among the furs. Crawling on all fours, Peter made his way up the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeper, his lips pulling into a grin as a soft snore disturbed the peace. Wendy lay on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other crooked at the elbow against her side, her finger tips brushing the covers. Peter leant over the side of the bed and placed the flowers on the floor, pulling one out before hitching himself onto his side so that he was facing her, his elbow supporting him. He dangled the bloom over Wendy's face, the bright colour reflecting onto her skin, painting it with pink highlights, before he stroked it down her cheek, the touch of the petals eliciting a small smile as they stopped at her lips. Her lashes parted and Peter found himself regarded by a pair of blue eyes that blinked sleepily at him.

"I was having such a lovely dream.....we were in Neverland and there was this marvellous tree-house, everything we wanted was in it and I found a wonderful room with the most deliciously comfortable bed in it."

Peter chuckled at her, the sound low and intimate.

"You don't have to dream it Wendy......its all around you."

He shook the flower at her, drawing her attention and was rewarded when Wendy cupped the bloom in one hand and pressed it to her nose, inhaling deeply.

"Hmmmmm this is wonderful......what is it called?"

"I don't know...its just a flower,"

"Oh you....well its a wonderful flower,"

She inhaled again, her eyes closing for a second before opening and meeting his in a long look. It was then she noticed that Peter was no longer wearing the long sleeved shirt. In fact he was wearing nothing at all above his waist except a thin chain with her thimble attached. A little shocked to see such an expanse of copper hued skin, Wendy shut her eyes with a snap, her hand coming up to cover her eyes. Peter frowned, reaching over to pull her hand away.

"What's the matter?"

"Um....Peter....where's your shirt gone?"

Flicking a glance down at himself, Peter shrugged, his mouth crooking up on one side.

"It got too hot.....and I don't need to wear anything here.....its Neverland."

"Oh...yes, well its just," Wendy swallowed, fighting hard not to let her eyes dwell on the breadth of chest practically begging her to touch it. "Peter...you have to realise....boys...er men in my world...they don't go around without clothes on."

Again Peter flicked his eyes down at himself, frowning slightly.

"But I didn't wear this much when you knew me before,"

Wendy felt herself slipping into dangerous waters, her lips suddenly so dry that she had to wet them with a nervous tongue.

"I know...and I agree with you, it is certainly warmer here than in London. In fact warmer than anywhere in England. Its just that...." She stopped, unable to put into words her tumultuous feelings or impose upon him the strictures of a world he barely understood. "Never mind," she finally muttered, "I'll get used to it....eventually."

Accepting her comments on face value, Peter grinned at her, his eyes running down her own apparel before returning to cock an inquiring eyebrow at her. Wendy found herself blushing under his gaze, turning herself onto her back to avoid his scrutiny.

"Aren't you awfully hot in all those clothes Wendy?"

"No."

He fingered the wrapper she still wore, tugging at the belt that kept it snug around her waist. Persistent tugging loosened the belt and he pulled it out with a swish, the force almost flipping Wendy onto her side again and making her gasp in surprise.

"Peter! What are you doing?"

"I don't believe you when you say you're not hot," he reached up a finger and drew it across her forehead. "Your sweating,"

Casting a fulminating glance at the offending evidence, Wendy wriggled her way to the side of the bed and made to get up. Undeterred Peter quickly rose and made a grab for the wrapper, snatching at the sleeve as she rose. It threw her off balance so that she swung around on one foot, her arm pulling out of the sleeve and the other quickly following so that the wrapper ended up pooled on the floor, Peter still holding onto the end of one sleeve. Wendy now stood in her nightshift, her arms coming up instinctively to cover her chest as she gaped at Peter who grinned, unabashed, up at her.

"Oh really....that was too bad of you Peter,"

"You've gotta admit....you're not so hot now Wendy."

Her mouth opening and closing in outrage, Wendy snatched at the wrapper only to be foiled when Peter whisked it out of reach, throwing it to his side of the bed. He nodded at her shift, one lean arm reaching out to twitch the skirt before Wendy had the presence of mind to jump back out of reach of the questing hand.

"Oh no you don't Peter Pan......it wouldn't be.....be...decent!" Her bosom heaving in embarrassment, Wendy turned her back on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest protectively. Peter frowned, perplexed at her behaviour, understanding only that there were rules that he obviously didn't comprehend regarding girls and clothes.

"Don't be upset Wendy, I didn't mean anything,"

Her back still turned to him, Wendy chewed on her lip, her thoughts chaotic and confused, her eyes cloudy with doubt.

Silently Peter rose from the bed and came to stand behind her, the heat from his skin searing her through the thin material of her nightdress. She felt an answering heat in herself and sucked in a breath to help calm her nerves, reminding herself that Peter simply didn't understand or follow the rules that governed how men and women behaved in polite society. Here in Neverland they were in his world, and, if it was to be believed, a world affected directly by his presence, new rules applied to everything she had been taught. She would need to adapt.

Peter placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her around and Wendy went willingly, her eyes downcast, her hair falling forward to hide her scarlet face.

"Don't be mad at me Wendy....I was only teasing,"

His apology acting like a balm, Wendy raised her head and looked up into the eyes that seemed infused with fairy dust and just as enchanting.

"I know you were Peter. I'm sorry I got angry, you have to be patient with me.....its a long time since I was here and I have to relearn all that I've forgotten about your world. Give me time."

"We both have alot to get used to. Tell me when I'm wrong, but don't turn you back on me, please. I can't bear to have you cross with me."

Smiling at his sincerity and childish simplicity, Wendy reached up on tip-toe to press her lips against his cheek in a small peck.

"I can't promise never to get cross with you...but I do promise to not turn my back on you again......or for the rest of today, atleast."

Pleased that everything appeared to be smoothed over, Peter grinned broadly, his movements lightening quick as he hooked one arm under her legs and the other around her body, picking her up before she had a chance to protest, a faint squeak passing her lips before she found herself clasped against his chest and swung around until the room spun giddily, her arms encircling his neck in response to his gyrations. Breathless and laughing, Wendy balled one fist and thumped at his shoulder, her eyes sparkling again.

"Put me down, you wretch...at once!"

"As you wish Wendy-lady."

Without warning she found herself dumped once more on the bed of furs, her hair fanning out as her head thumped into the cool pillows, the breath leaving her lungs in a rush. Slightly stunned, she watched as Peter followed her down, landing on his back beside her, smirking unashamedly.

"You are impossible Peter," Wendy gasped, laughter softening the words as she turned her head to regard his lean face.

"Yes....I am." Peter replied smugly before snaking one muscular arm about her middle and pulling her unceremoniously towards him as he turned onto his side so that her back lay against his front, his nose burying itself in her hair before she could do much more than squeak a protest. Feeling a little like a teddybear clasped too tightly by an overprotective child, Wendy pushed at Peter's arm but that only made it tighten further, clamping her in his embrace until she felt absorbed into his body.

"Peter?"

"Hmmmmm?"

"Don't you have your own bed to go to?"

"Is my bed," came the muffled response.

"Oh....um....I see," her cheeks blushing fiercely, Wendy again tried to push his arm down only to feel the muscles tense. Defeated, she relaxed into his embrace and immediately felt his arm loosen, allowing her to take a deep breath which she let out in a sigh.

"Don't I have a bed to go to?" She tried again.

"Is your bed," came the unequivocal response.

"Oh dear."

"Wendy?"

"Nothing Peter.....go to sleep,"

"'Night."

"Goodnight Peter Pan,"

Against her better judgement, Wendy felt sleep pulling at her eyelids, her lashes coming to rest against her cheeks as her breathing slowed and her body relaxed completely in sleep. His arm buried under the pillow that cradled her head, Peter lifted his head slightly to stare at her, his eyes once more drinking their fill of her features, marvelling that this creature that stirred him in such unexpected way, was lying beside him, trusting him to keep her safe through the night. He lifted his arm that had been clamped around her waist and raised it to brush long tendrils of hair away from her face, smoothing it down so that he could lay his face against it as it lay across his own pillow. That done he once more draped his arm across her middle, his legs curving into the crook of hers, her bottom coming to rest in the cradle of his hips so that they lay so perfectly matched not a pin could be put between them.

"Goodnight my Wendy," he breathed, leaning forward to place a small kiss at her temple before laying back on the pillow, his body already halfway to sleep, his lashes closing over eyes filled with stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter: Three - The Betrayal
Rating: PG for the fight scenes (maybe)

Old acquaintances are renewed, but not in a way that improves anyone's health.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wendy stirred, her lips parting on a sigh as she brushed something away from her face, the irritation making her want to sneeze. After a second it tickled again and her brow furrowed in annoyance as she once more batted it away. This time a muffled snicker made her eyes fly open and she found herself staring straight into eyes that swirled with mirth.

"Wake up sleepy-head, there's so much I want to show you."

Shutting her eyes on a small groan, Wendy turned onto her side, away from Peter, her shoulders hunching slightly.

"Come on Wendy....its a beautiful dawn, come see."

At the word dawn Wendy's eyes snapped open, her brain registering the faint light filtering through the floral bedecked vines that formed the walls of the hut.

"Dawn?"

"Come on..." Peter wheedled, crouching on the bed and straddling her body, bringing his face down to hers and whispering in her ear. "I want to show you what happens when the Morning Star sets."

"What happens?"

"Not gonna say....you have to come and see.......pleeeeeease,"

Giving into the urge to smile at his outrageous wheedling, Wendy turned onto her back, the sight of Peter's bronzed body poised over hers enough to take her breath away. His lithe limbs shadowed with muscles as he pushed into her personal space, his expression cajoling and enticing, his face wreathed in smiles at her capitulation.

Laughing, Wendy pushed at his chest and rolled him off her, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and getting to her feet, Peter remaining sprawled on the bed, watching her as she stretched.

Turning she regarded the irrepressible boy-man watching her so intently.

"Take yourself off somewhere Peter, I have to get dressed."

A flick of his eyes up and down her body made a blush creep up her neck but she refused to be drawn, placing her hands on her hips and glaring back at him. Sighing hugely, Peter rolled off the bed and padded to the door, casting her a look full of mock regret, ducking quickly to avoid the pillow chucked at his head. Shaking her head, Wendy turned to pick up the battered carpet bag, dumping its contents on the bed and surveying her meagre wardrobe.

"Something will have to be done about this," she sighed, picking up some of the items and turning over others.

Outside Peter lounged against the wall of the hut, his arms crossed over his bare chest, idly scratching at the lacing of the vest that he wore more to ameliorate Wendy's sense of propriety than his level of comfort, looking out across the forest canopy, the sky above him starting to streak into bands of colour, heralding the suns arrival. Behind him he heard Wendy moving around the hut, his ears painting a picture of clothes being shed and new ones donned. Within minutes Wendy appeared in the doorway, her slim figure encased in a softly draped, short sleeved dress that hugged her bosom before falling away to her ankles in loose folds which swayed as she moved towards him. The sleeves were mere puffs of fabric that capped her shoulders and ended well above her elbows. The fabric was a light blue and sprigged with tiny flowers, looking cool and comfortable to Peter's untutored eye. Wendy was casting quick glances at him, trying to gauge his reaction, while she twisted her long hair into a loose knot, securing it away from her face with a matching bandeau.

"Will I do Peter?"

"Um......yeah, fine......ready?" Peter stumbled over his words, his tongue feeling thick and uncooperative in the face of Wendy's slender arms and unmistakably feminine outline. He reached for her hand, receiving a smile in response, her cool fingers slipping into his broad palm, their slight trembling belying her cool exterior.

Leaning forward he whispered in her ear. "Trust me Wendy,"

Her blue eyes huge in her face, Wendy whispered back, "always Peter."

They flew slowly away from the treehouse, their course taking them over the tops of the trees and towards the now dormant volcano until they reached a plateau, high on the mountains flank that faced out to the sea, rocks and boulders scattered across its surface, some as big as a house. Peter touched them down near the edge and they looked across the glittering ocean to a bright star that sat just above the horizon. Above them a scatter of shooting stars chased the bright star to its rest, leaving trails of smoke as they burnt up in the atmosphere. Peter stood just behind Wendy, his arm appearing over her shoulder at intervals to point out items of interest as the star sank below the ocean, a bright spark appearing briefly as it disappeared from view. They saw a pod of whales slicing through the sea below them, their spouts appearing at regular intervals as they progressed past the island. Behind them the sun rose majestically, the clouds turning from purple to pink to orange to gold as light flooded Neverland and turned shadows to light.

"That was beautiful Peter....thank you for showing me the dawn."

"Next time....I'll get you up early enough to see the moon set...that's even better!"

"Oh Peter," Wendy laughed, punching his arm lightly before turning away from the ledge. Peter grabbed her hand and pulled her into the sky with him, their destination, the Pirate village.

Peter had explained about the downfall of the Jolly Roger's crew and their peaceful trading with the Indians. Wendy was secretly pleased that hostilities had, for the time being, become a thing of the past, her fears for Peter's safety not put to the test. They arrived at the collection of shacks as the sun touched the chimney of Mr.Smee's house, the clear sunbeams not helping to show the shacks in a favourable light. Each looked as though it might fall down at any moment but for all that, they possessed a charm that Wendy found endearing. They landed outside Smee's door, Peter adjusting his sword belt, his eyes flicking to the adjoining houses, relaxing when no sign of life greeted his scrutiny. In fact Wendy couldn't discern anything that indicated life of any sort and she waited beside Peter, unease dancing down her back as his knocking produced no response from its occupant. After several abortive attempts Wendy stilled Peters arm and they turned to survey the narrow street.

"I don't think there's anyone here Peter, not so much as a curtain has twitched since we arrived,"

"Maybe they are at the Indian trading ground," Peter suggested, scanning the small village and empty harbour. "All the boats are gone,"

A shiver chilled her and Wendy turned to take Peter's hand when a wild scream rent the air and set the hair on the back of her arms standing rigidly upright. Spinning around they saw an unkempt and dishevelled figure lurching drunkenly down the street towards them, his arm raised above his head, the cutlass in his hand whirling around as another blood curdling cry escaped the foam flecked lips. For a second both Peter and Wendy stood frozen in time, their eyes rounding and brains freezing as the pirate inexorably drew closer. Snapping out of his surprise Peter shoved Wendy behind him and drew his sword, his body tensing in preparation for battle. Wendy found herself thrown against Smee's front door, her back pressed against the salt-stained wood as Peter took several steps forward, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a feral grin lighting his features. In a flash Wendy realised that Peter truly came alive when his life was on the line and her heart sank slightly before her attention became focused on the man brandishing his cutlass like a scythe, sweeping it in front of him as if he were blind. Peter ducked from one of the wild swings, his blade clashing with the pirates, sparks flying off the blades. Wendy balled her fist against her mouth, her instinct to cry out stifled, to keep distractions at a minimum. Peter's tall frame dodged and weaved the more erratic swings, parrying them easily, playing with his opponent, Wendy quickly realised. By now the protagonists were further down the street and Wendy stepped from the relative safety of the doorway to follow them, the pirates back to her, his cutlass slashing the air in a frenzy. A near miss that appeared to almost separate Peter's head from his shoulders made her cry out in fear, her voice sounding clear above the clash of blades. As if struck by lightening the pirate jerked, his body contorting violently as if pulled by string. His head turned first, followed by his wildly gyrating body so that he now faced in Wendy's direction, his blood-shot eyes zeroing in on her, Peter apparently forgotten. With a strangled cry the pirate started to advance on her, his hands coming together to grip the cutlass two-handed before sweeping it before him in a series of body-slicing moves that made Wendy blanch. Behind him, Peter yelled to regain his attention, but the pirate ignored him, the man's gate breaking into a trot as Wendy started to back away, her eyes going to Peter's over the man's ragged shoulder.

Wendy turned and fled, her feet tangling in her skirts, bringing her down to fall heavily in the dusty street, the breath knocked from her body as she lay helpless almost at the feet of the enraged pirate. With an enraged cry Peter flew over the mans head, coming to stand over Wendy's prostrate body and blocking the full force of the pirates downward sweep, the blow forcing him to his knees. With an insane shriek the pirate raised his arm for the final blow which never landed as Peter pulled his dagger from his belt and plunged it into the man's chest to the hilt. For a second the tableau remained frozen in place, the pirate with his arm upraised, Peter with his arm extended and Wendy cringing between Peter's legs in the dust, then everything became fluid. Peter's knife slipped out of the pirates chest, the man falling backward to land with a thud on the cobbles, his eyes already turning milky in the bright sunshine as blood pooled and spread from his wound to the dirt below.

Breathing heavily Peter straightened up, his hands by his side, one with a sword the other with a knife. Looking down he wiped the knife-blade on the leg of his trousers before sheathing it at his belt and returning the sword to its scabbard. He stepped away from Wendy and went to inspect the man, nudging him with his foot to check for life but the wide staring eyes belied the effort, life having fled its bonds long since. A sob brought his attention back to Wendy and he quickly knelt beside her, raising her up and pulling her into a fierce embrace, the shock rendering her unable to do more than cling and cry in the aftermath of the brief but terrifying battle.

"Shhhh he's dead," Peter soothed, his eyes never leaving their vigil, scanning the narrow road in both direction while his arms held Wendy tight to his chest.

"I'm sorry Peter....I was no help at all....I'm useless,"

Wiping her eyes furiously, Wendy backed out of his embrace, angry at herself for placing Peter in unnecessary danger by her ineptitude.

"I can't even run away properly," she raged, her hands shaking her skirts in frustration. Peter waited for her to calm down before moving in and taking her shoulders in his firm hands, shaking her slightly to get her attention, her eyes flying to his in surprise.

"There was nothing you could have done....you didn't have a weapon and this was completely unexpected. Alindra said there hasn't been any instances of violence on the island since Hook died. This is beyond unusual, this is unheard of."

A noise brought them both back to the present, their heads snapping around to stare down the street towards the harbour. Another sound came from directly behind them and Peter turned to face it, placing Wendy behind him again. A tug on his vest drew his eyes to her for a second before he turned back to survey the street.

"Let's get out of here Peter..there may be more of them," she whispered, another sound, suspiciously like the cocking of a musket, confirming their suspicions. Nodding, Peter grasped her hand and leap into the air, his body taught, his eyes sweeping the roof tops. Wendy clung to his hand, their fingers interlocked, her thoughts disordered and chaotic, gasping when she saw the crowd of pirates swarming over the patch of ground they had occupied only seconds before. Peter saw them as well, changing the direction of their flight so suddenly that Wendy almost lost her grip, the whistle of a musket ball almost grazing her face as they veered away, gathering speed, leaving the pirate shacks far behind them. Around the headland Peter set them down on a wide sweep of beach, his hand quickly turning Wendy around, to her bemusement, checking her for injuries.

"Did it hit you?" he asked, his voice hoarse with worry.

Wendy could only mutely shake her head, reaction setting in from their near miss with disaster. Peter eyed her white face with concern, pulling her into his arms, his heart against her cheek beating as rapidly as her own.

Feeling a little calmer, Wendy broke the embrace and walked to the edge of the water, pressing her palms to her face to still their trembling. She wondered idly what had happened to the girl who had thrived on adventure and thought nothing of fighting a pirate with a sword in her hand and a laugh on her lips. That girl seemed a million miles away right now and Wendy felt like a fraud. On reaching the water she paddled her bare feet in the cool sea, lifting her skirts to keep them dry. Behind her Peter crouched on his haunches, his face screwed up in thought, his dagger drawing pictures in the sand. A splash drew his attention to the sea in time to see a mermaid rear up out of the water and lunge at Wendy, knocking her to the sand. With a roar Peter ran towards her, his feet kicking up spurts of grit but the mermaid was quicker. Before Wendy had a chance to roll to her knees the mermaid had grabbed a leg in both hands and started to drag her into the water, another head surfacing beside the first, long webbed hands reaching out to help drag Wendy out to sea.

Peter reached them just as Wendy managed to roll onto her back, her feet kicking at the preternaturally strong hands that tugged and pulled at her legs. The waves were almost breaking over her, soaking her and loosening her grip on the hard sand, the undertow aiding the mermaids in their death grip. Peter launched himself at the second mermaid, back-handing her across the face, his own snarling at the creature in its own language. Alarmed at his size and ferocity the creature let go and dived away, allowing Peter to face the remaining mermaid that seemed oblivious of his presence, her goal in sight as Wendy foundered in the shallow water, her mouth filling with water.

Drawing back his knife, Peter slashed at the arms holding Wendy's leg and a shriek rent the air as the injured mermaid released the limb and turned to defend itself. A wave almost knocked Peter over as the remaining mermaid bared her fangs and lunged for him, her muscular tail thrashing the water behind her into a froth. At the last second he dodged to the side and the mermaid slid past him into the next wave, her tail catching him with a blow that pushed him under the water and held him, for a second, against the seabed below. He bobbed to the surface, spitting grit and shaking the water from his head, to see the mermaid and her partner several feet from him, their seaweed hair floating around them as their anemone eyes regarded him