Peter Pan Fan Fiction ❯ Magical Grow of Passion ❯ Chapter 1

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Wendy sat by the window.

Well sitting was rather a poor description, she tended to drape, rather than just sit. She spent hours arranging the fall of her voluminous, but prettily decorated nighty, twitching each errant fold into the precise position, before turning her head and tilting it up to gaze once more out of the window, into the starry starry night, her skin shining alabaster white in the moonlight.

Of course the winter played havoc with her pose, her arms and legs shaking with the cold, her forehead creasing in a disfiguring frown as she worried about the fall of her hair and the overall look of the picture and whether her pretty nose was turning red.

She often worried so much she didn't notice when she nodded off, her head hitting the window sill with a dull thunk.

When she awoke, an hour or so later and dragged herself to bed, she grumped to herself about enchanting boys who persisted in being tardy and weather that refused to co-operate and provide a balmy evening for second-star-to-the-right gazing.

But despite the bruises on her head and her poor red nose, Wendy maintained her vigil for two whole years, convinced beyond reason that Peter couldn't possibly have forgotten about her, she had given him her hidden-kiss, for heaven's sake.

In those two fleeting years, Wendy grew, and grew, and continued to grow in all the right places, her body developing curves and dips, hollows and swells, until she forgot all about her formerly featureless torso and reveled in her now pleasingly plump proportions.

After a particularly lengthy and cold vigil, she fell asleep as usual, snoring slightly, her poor bruised head resting against the cold painted wood of the window ledge.

Outside her window, a figure hovered, his eyes on the girl so carelessly draped across the sill, his arms crossed over his chest as the cold night air made his exposed nipples as hard a buttons. Leaves, he had discovered, were a poor replacement for a good thick blanket, the London weather as far removed from Neverlands warm shores as it was possible.

Shivering, Peter floated closer, his teeth starting to chatter.

Wendy awoke with a start, her hand reaching up to rub at the sore spot in the center of her forehead, her eyes screwed shut as she grimaced, albeit very prettily. A sound made her open one eye, her mouth dropping open as she perceived the boy hovering just outside her window.

"Good gracious.......Peter!"

"Damn it's cold......let me in Wendy......."

Opening her other eye, Wendy proceeded to bat her eyelashes, not sure whether to be ecstatic that the wretch had finally returned or thoroughly cross with her less than gracious greeting from the horrid boy. "Oh.....I see, no hello, no nice to see you, just let me in?"

"Okay.....Hi, how are ya......now let me in!"

Pouting, Wendy flounced to her feet, heedless of her nightgown, now all creased and not at all prettily draped, and pushed the sash right up, giving Peter room to climb inside, his feet leaving grubby prints on the paint work. Scowling at the black footprints, Wendy heaved the window shut.

"Do you have a blanket or something.......I'm freezing my nuts off here."

Shutting her mouth with a snap, Wendy approached her bed and pulled the pink frilly comforter off, tossing it to Peter who caught it deftly and wrapped it around his shoulders.

Tapping her very clean foot on the carpet, her arms folded across her chest carefully (so as not to squash her nicely rounded and shapely bosom), Wendy surveyed Peter from behind her ludicrously long lashes.

"Well you took your time?"

"Huh!....yeah, well, I've been busy.......do you have anything to eat? I'm starving."

"Oh......well.....um.......no. I can get you something, if you like?"

"Sure......do you have any hot chocolate....and those little marshmallow thingies....and if you could put it in that special cup?"

"The Toby jug shaped like a pirate?"

Peter grinned at Wendy, his eyes glinting as he nodded vigorously.

"No.....sorry, no hot chocolate, no marshmallow's and no Toby jug."

"Oh.....bugger.....then can I have a cup of tea?"

"Nope."

"What can I have......?"

"You could have a thimble."

Wendy smiled at him, her lashes fluttering as she slowly wetted her lips, leaving them as plump and kissable as a peach.

Peter eyed her warily, the last thimble he'd had from Wendy had precipitated a whole host of strange events, not least Peter turning a bright pink and making him grow eight whole inches in the two years since he'd last seen her. His leaves were now quite uncomfortably tight. Where before they'd been down to his knees, they were now at mid thigh, the waistline well below his navel, leaving him with nothing more than the bare minimum of decent coverings. It was also damn silly to have his legs sticking out, so exposed and hairy, giving Tinkerbell a great deal to laugh about when she caught Peter trying to tug the leaves down a little further.

"No thank you.....I'll have the tea instead."

"Oh really.......well, if you don't want a thimble, what have you come for?"

"You, of course."

"Oh Peter," Wendy gushed, clasping her hands against her chest. "You do love me, after all."

Peter looked a little taken aback, eyeing Wendy's heaving bosom with interest, but not liking the strange fluttering of her eyelashes.

"Eh!....er, I don't love you.......at least, I don't think I do.....I'm the Pan," He dropped the pink comforter and adopted his trademark stance, feet apart, arms akimbo, fists on hips, his chin tilted, smug smirk in place. Wendy's eager face slipped a little, her clasped hands dropping from her shapely bosom to rest by her sides.

"But if you don't want a thimble," Peter shook his head, "and you don't love me," again Peter shook his head. "Why did you come back at all?"

"Oh......well......I was bored."

For a moment, Wendy just stared at Peter, her lashes blinking once then twice in shock.

"You. Were. Bored?"

Finding his heroic stance a trifle awkward, Peter relaxed and bent to pick up the pink comforter again, tucking it around himself like a toga, looking down to see his black toes peeking out from the frilled edging.

"YOU-WERE-BORED!"

"I heard you the first time.....and you're only repeating what I've already said......and why are you repeating what I said?"

Wendy's face started to go from a prettily coloured creamy pink, to a gloriously outraged fiery red.

"Have you any idea how many nights I've sat by my window, staring at that dratted star, arranging myself just so, in the hopes of you returning from Neverland?"

"Er......no."

"Well......it was lots!"

"I don't remember asking you to wait," Peter sounded aggrieved, taking a step back from the angry girl working herself into a fit in front of him. "For that matter.....why didn't you come to Neverland?"

Scowling horribly, her prettily pouting lips compressed into a thin line, Wendy clenched her dainty fists and stepped right up to Peter until they stood toe to grubby toe. "How can I fly to Neverland if I don't have any fairy dust, Mister Smarty Pants?"

Finding Wendy literally in his face, Peter decided to use a diversionary tactic to save his skin. Pursing his lips, Peter gave Wendy a thimble, leaving a lovely smear of dirt on her cheek from his own, less than clean face.

Wendy froze, her eyes opening wide before throwing her arms around Peter and soundly kissing him, her prettily rounded bosom pressed to the hard wall of his chest as he staggered back a step, the pink comforter dropping to the floor as he held onto her waist to get his balance.

"Oh Peter....I knew you had to love me....." Wendy sighed, all anger and scowls gone, her face once more soft and welcoming.

Thinking to himself that if this was going to be her reaction every time he gave her a thimble, he'd wear his lips out before sunrise, Peter tried to unwind Wendy's arms from around his neck, only to feel them tighten as she wriggled against him, her mouth smiling widely.

"Look here Wendy.....I didn't come back here to.....er...give you a thimble, as pleasant as it is....I came back to see if you wanted to have another adventure,"

"Give me a thimble and I'll think about it," Wendy replied, her eyes all dreamy and soft.

"But...." Peter started to protest only to find himself once more thoroughly thimbled, his body starting to feel all tingly and tickly the more Wendy pressed herself to him. To his everlasting embarrassment, part of his body started to rise, his tightly fitted leaves a poor camouflage for his body's unfortunate reactions to having a Wendy pressed all over him. Breaking his lips from her embrace, Peter shoved Wendy hard, sending her flying to land on her back on the bed, her hair covering her face.

"Will you stop that?" Peter almost shouted, his hands grabbing for the pink comforter although his body was now toasty and warm and not entirely from just the bed cover.

Wendy wrestled with her long hair for a moment, annoyed that Peter didn't seem to want to kiss her for very long, but also ecstatic that he had kissed her at all. Finally flipping the last of her glossy, honey coloured locks over her shoulder, Wendy pushed herself off the bed and sat on the edge, careful to arrange her nighty appropriately prettily.

Seeing that she was not going to fly at him again, Peter relaxed slightly, the comforter slipping from his shoulders to hang down one arm. Taking a step, Peter started to pace, finding the pink frills clustered around his ankles, making it difficult to pace with authority. Wendy just watched, her eyes half closed, lost in some dream world as her fingers plucked at the folds of her nightgown.

"Wendy!" Peter's irritated voice snapped her from her revery, bringing her eyes back to his.

"Yes Peter....did you say something about an adventure?"

"Er.....yes, if you like.....but don't keep doing that.....thimbling thing....its caused enough trouble already,"

"Oh......what sort of trouble?" Wendy asked wide eyed, her mouth pouting into a moue of curiosity.

Peter gestured to himself impatiently, "I would think that was obvious......look at me......look at my leaves......nothing fits!" As soon as he said it, Peter regretted asking her to look at his leaves, the bulge of his body unfortunate reaction still evident. As Wendy's eyes wandered his lanky frame, frankly appreciative, Peter whisked the pink cover around his waist again, hiding his embarrassment. "And that's not all...since I......since we.....I've been chased all over the island by females!!"

"What?" Wendy stopped her perusal of Peter's new appearance and focused her attention on his words. Realising he now had her full attention, Peter hitched the pink frills a little higher.

"I never knew Tiger Lily could run so fast, or that the mermaids could leap out of the water so high." Peter continued, sounding most annoyed. "Tiger Lily almost caught me one time," Peter started to warm to his tale, his eyes gleaming and his face animated. "She ambushed me while I slept, leaping on me and pressing her face all over me," He flung out his arm, illustrating how he defended himself, "but I threw her off, rolling to the side and drew my knife." Peter slashed the air, the pink comforter falling to the floor as he danced about, his hand slicing the air. "We fought, slashing and hacking, her tomahawk against my dagger, it went on for hours!"

Wendy had folded her arms across her chest, her mouth once more in a grim line, jealousy gnawing at her stomach as she listened to Peter's elaborate telling of what would have been a minor skirmish between him and the Indian princess.

"Did you gut her, Peter?" Wendy asked archly, her eyebrows raised as Peter halted his over enthusiastic narrative, his arm raised for the killing blow. Lowering his arm, he grinned sheepishly at Wendy.

"Not exactly.....I flew away."

"Then what happened with the Mermaids?"

"Ah, well that was the other day.....I was fishing of Dead Man's rock, when one of them tried to pull me into the sea. Before I could get away, there were half a dozen, all tugging at my leaves, I was stripped bare before I could get away...." Peter sounded so indignant that Wendy smothered a smile, her eyes dancing as Peter crossed his arms over his chest protectively, trying to look unfazed by all the strange attention.

"And you don't know why they wanted to.....strip you bare?"

"No!.....I mean, I've grown a bit, I'll grant you....and I guess that means I'm growing up.....but what's with all you females that you have to grab a man's......you know.....all the time!"

"Did Tiger Lily?" Wendy asked, trying hard to keep a straight face while also wanting to scratch the Indian girls eyes out. Peter nodded, his mouth grim.

"And now you keep wanting to thimble me....I almost wish there were no blasted girls anywhere in Neverland!"

Choking down a laugh, Wendy batted her eyes once more and rose to her feet. Slowly she approached the skittish boy, her hands held behind her back, her pleasingly rounded hips swaying enticingly, Peter's eyes irresistibly drawn to the outline of her curves through the filmy nightdress.

"If I promise not to thimble you until you ask me to, and I promise not to grab your.....er....you know what's, can I come back to Neverland with you?"

"Oh....er.....alright. Do you want to bring your brother's again?"

Wendy leant forward slightly, her lips close to Peter's ear.

"Not this time......it'll just be you.....and me!"

Peter shivered as Wendy's warm breath bathed his ear, his hand coming up to rub at it as she walked away from him.

"I'll never understand why girls have to do that....it makes it itch!"

"So Peter.....when do you want to fly me back to Neverland?"

"Well....now I suppose," He eyed the filmy nightdress disparagingly. "Don't you have anything better to wear than that silly thing?"

"This came from the best modiste in Bloomsbury....its a peignoir, very chic."

"Very impractical if you ask me," He flicked a hand at the drapery as Wendy wafted past. The silky folds slid over the back of his hand, his fingers grabbing for the material, finding it elusive as Wendy circled him. "You really need something.....er...a bit more.....hardy."

"Don't you like my nightdress?" Wendy purred as she leant towards Peter, her perfectly rounded bosom drawing Peter's eyes as she preened in front of him, his leaves giving up the unequal task of trying to hide his burgeoning reaction.

"Very nice," Peter managed to strangle out, his voice an octave higher as he struggled to stuff himself one handed back into his unhelpful costume. Backing away from Wendy, Peter came up against the edge of a dressing table, the sharp corner digging into his hip and making him yelp. Wendy followed, backing him into the corner, her hair swirling around her shoulders as she swayed towards him.

"I wore it especially for you Peter." Having bailed up her prey, Wendy plucked the pink coverlet from her quarries nerveless fingers before pressing herself against him, her lips enticing him to ravage her, her body exciting him to the edge of insanity.

"I guess it doesn't really matter what you wear," He managed to squeak a second before Wendy closed the slight gap between them and fastened her lips on his, her hands roaming over the planes of his chest before wandering down to explore the edges of his shrinking costume. Just as Wendy fastened her greedy fingers on his raging libido, the sound of footsteps approaching the bedroom door intruded on the tender moment.

"Wendy....you still awake?"

The booming voice of her father made Wendy spring back from her erstwhile love as if he'd burst into flames. In point of fact Peter felt like he had caught on fire, but he ruthlessly squelched his desire in the face of being caught in flagrante delicto by Wendy's father.

"Oh god.....he can't catch you here.....under the bed, quickly!"

"What?"

"I said get under the bed, you idiot, are you deaf?"

"Why on earth would I want to hide there.......its too small and cramp!"

"You'll be small and cramped if my father catches you in here....now get under the bed!"

Grumbling to himself, Peter squeezed his lanky frame under the lacy frill and scooted under the bed just as the door started to open. Wendy plucked the pink comforter off the floor and flung it onto her covers, her bare foot kicking at the grubby appendage still sticking out from under her counterpane, a muffled yelp the only reply as she hurried pinned a smile to her face, clutching the edges of her peignoir together and prepared to greet her parent.

George Darling pushed the door open but didn't actually enter the bedroom, his nearsighted eyes peering into the room as he leant forward, his glasses glinting in the light from the low burning gaslight.

"Ah....dearest, not abed yet?"

"I was just about to get into bed when you called, Daddykins."

"Ah.....yes....your Mother sent me, thought she heard something."

"Heard something?"

"Ah....yes.....a bump."

"Oh...well, nothing here to cause a bump....just me...going to bed."

"Ah....yes....well then, goodnight Wendy dear....sleep well."

"I will....goodnight dearest Daddypooh."

With a faint smile, George Darling shut the door, his footsteps keeping Wendy in place until they faded into nothing. Satisfied her Father had truly gone, Wendy dropped to the floor and lifted the edge of her frilly bed edging, leaning forward to peer into the dusty underneath.

Peter was afforded a front-row view of Wendy's delectable cleavage, her perfectly rounded bosom almost spilling out of her neckline as she leant down. Peter felt his flagging manhood suddenly spring back into life, a groan forcing its way out as he blushed hotly.

"What's the matter Peter? Are you in pain?"

"No....now move out the way,"

Wendy held up the frill while Peter hauled himself out, panting slightly as he unwound his long limbs from under the bed. His hair was sticking up, looking attractively messy, his face still hot from his flush as he knelt in front of Wendy who had dropped the frill and sat on her heels staring at him.

"What?"

"Oh nothing....just that you are quite the most impossibly handsome boy I have ever seen...."

"You think so?"

"Oh yes....I've met hundreds of boys..." She paused, seeing Peter's face screw up into a scowl of jealousy. "But none could hold a candle to you Peter...." She smiled slightly as Peter swapped the scowl for a smug smile, soaking up her flattery. Climbing to her feet, Wendy stood for a moment, well aware that with Peter still sitting on the carpet, his eyes were level with her enticing nether regions, inadequately covered by the thin layers of her negligee. With a flip of her hair she turned away and sauntered over to her chest-of-drawers, humming to herself. Peter remained kneeling on the carpet, his gaze fixed as he experienced a pleasant buzz, his nose still twitching from the pleasant aroma of warm Wendy.

"What would you suggest Peter? My mulberry walking dress? My emerald riding habit? Or what about my peacock blue day dress?"

"Huh?"

Straightening up from where she'd been bending over a drawer, displaying her perfectly rounded derriere to the room, Wendy twirled to face Peter, smiling to see him still kneeling on the carpet, his expression slightly out-of-focus.

"Peter, get up silly."

Shaking his head, Peter leapt to his feet and adopted his stance, feet braced and hands on hip. After a second he dropped his hands, feeling a little silly, and decided to fold them across his chest instead.

"I said, what do you think would be suitable for Neverland?"

"I don't know....something......you can climb a tree in."

"Oh...I'm not sure I have anything like that...."

"Then I'll have to leave you behind....goodbye...." Before he had a chance to turn to the window, Wendy had flown across the room in a flurry of silken skirts and flattened herself with her back to the window glass, her arms spread out to prevent him leaving.

"Oh no you don't.....I've waited quite long enough for you to come back, I'm not about to let a little thing like clothes stop me going back to Neverland.....wait right here."

She waited until Peter shrugged and turned away from the window, walking negligently over to her bed and plumping himself down on it.

"Just hurry up will you....we haven't got all night."

With a grin Wendy hurried out of her room, careful to check the corridor before silently jogging to her brother's room and slipping inside. John was away, staying with a school friend, so Wendy didn't hesitate to riffle through her brothers clothes, choosing a few items before padding back to her room triumphantly.

Peter was where she'd left him, idly tossing his dagger into the air and catching it after each flip, his legs crossed under him as he sat on her bed.

"I just have to get changed....won't be a tick."

Diving behind the ornate screen in the corner, Wendy dumped the clothes on the floor and started to divest herself of her nightdress. She threw it over the top edge of the screen, peeping through the gap to see Peter staring back at her, his eyes fixed on the filmy negligee so carelessly draped above her.

"Wendy?"

"Yes Peter?"

"You could bring that......er....dress thing with you, if you want."

"But I thought you said...."

"Yeah....well, you'll have to have something to sleep in....."

Grinning to herself, Wendy twitched the filmy negligee back over the screen before hurriedly buttoning up the shirt she'd filched from John's drawer. It reached to just above her knees and she was tempted to walk out to show Peter, but she resisted, instead pulling the brown trousers up her slim legs and buttoning the fly before pulling the belt around her waist and cinching it tightly over the shirt to both hold up the trousers and keep the shirt from ballooning out. Finally she rolled up the shirt sleeves and trouser legs before gathering up her nightdress and stepping out from behind the screen.

"Will this do, do you think?"

She twirled, the boyish trousers outlining her legs and bottom, the shirt straining against her breasts which bounced slightly as she turned. Peter watched the display dry mouthed. Somehow she had managed to create an outfit that was even more provocative than the previous one. As Wendy walked towards him over the carpet, she primped the collar of the shirt, undoing the top three buttons to make a tantalizing v-neck that hinted at a cleavage.

"Peter?"

Swallowing hard, Peter climbed off the bed and edged his way around her, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from her body until he clapped a hand over them, his other hand reaching blindly for the window.

"We need to go......now......" He rasped, his fingers finding the window and scrabbling to pull it up and open.

"Its a lot easier if you open your eyes...." Wendy purred, reaching past him to release the catch, her body brushing his so that he jumped back as if stung by a spark of static.

"I'm not sure this is such a great idea....maybe I should go back....er....without...."

"Oh I don't think so Peter......" Bundling up her nightdress, Wendy stuffed it into a small valise, along with a few other essentials before closing the bag and hooking it over her arm. "Now....you did remember to bring some fairy dust didn't you?"

"Er...what? Oh...yes..." Pulling out a pouch from what remained of his leaves, Peter took out a pinch of brightly coloured dust and sprinkled it over Wendy's head. The gold glitter rained down and Wendy smiled, feeling the lightness fill her, her toes leaving the carpet as she squealed delightedly. Peter also grinned smugly, following her up until they were both floating just below her ceiling.

"Ready Wendy?"

"Oh yes Peter.....take me away to Neverland.....please."

Threading his fingers through hers, Peter drew them back down to the floor and they climbed out of the window and stood on the ledge. The sky above them was ablaze with stars, the wind chill as they prepared to leave on another adventure. With a jump they flew into the air, Wendy's hair streaming over her shoulders as they ascended over the sooty chimneys and roofs of London, their bodies becoming a sparkly streak of light as they escaped the confines of the earth and traveled the magical route to the second star on the right.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: The Second - domestic bliss


Author's Note: Pure, unadulterated fluff and nonsense. Hopefully still amusing, with naughty stuff thrown in for good measure and a little light relief.


oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Ewwwwwwww!"

Wrinkling her pretty nose, Wendy clutched at the hanging vines as she perched precariously on one of the rickety beds. Peter looked up incuriously before returning to his meal of fruit and some unidentifiable bird carcass.

"What's the matter now?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full...and I saw a mouse run into that corner."

Peter only shrugged and stuffed another strip of meat into his mouth. Since they'd arrived at his old hideout, Wendy had done nothing but squeal and wrinkle her nose at the dusty furniture and dirty floor, fastidiously picking her way through the discarded bones and fruit rinds scattered everywhere.

"For heavens sake Peter....don't you ever clean up?"

"Don't have a mother."

"Well that is patently obvious." Wendy retorted, gingerly returning her bare feet to the dirt floor, her eyes fixed on the corner where the offending rodent had retreated. "Why don't you clean it up yourself?"

"Need a mother.....now I have one." Peter grinned cheekily up at Wendy before returning to his food.

"Well if you think......oh you are hopeless....you don't even have a broom!"

Brushing off a corner of one of the wooden chairs she sat down and surveyed the long table at which Peter sat. Her fond hopes of playing house with Peter was rapidly turning into a less than desirable prospect. The old tree appeared to be falling down around his admittedly adorable ears, large holes in the walls where the bark had rotted and long hanging roots starting to create a thick curtain which brushed their heads, making Wendy shiver with dread, thinking them spider webs.

"Well I can't live here........it's really too revolting."

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Peter paused to look around the room, trying to see it through her eyes. Shrugging he dismissed her appraisal. "I've lived in worse."

"Maybe you have Peter Pan....but I haven't....I insist you find somewhere else for us to live."

Folding her arms across her chest, she lifted her delicately rounded chin and adopted a martyred air. Peter sighed gustily and threw the fruit he'd started to peel onto his plate.

He briefly considered just taking Wendy home, but the idea was as quickly discarded as considered. Sighing again he rose to his feet, tugging ineffectually at his foreshortened leaves as he did so.

"Come one then.......I'll show you what's available and you choose."

"Splendid." Jumping up, Wendy bounced and clapped her hands, causing Peter's eyes to nearly pop out of his head as parts of Wendy's anatomy rearranged themselves under her shirt causing him to feel a tightness in his chest and a ringing in his ears. Covering his eyes, he stumbled away from the table towards the sloping access to the outside.

"Peter...why do you keep covering your eyes?" Wendy's voice wafted coyly from behind him as he stubbed his toe on a discarded bowl.

"All the better not to see you with......ouch!"

Dropping his hand, he hopped on one grubby foot, rubbing the other as it smarted. Wendy watched his antics for a moment before approaching him, her hips swinging.

"Let me see Peter....." Reaching out a hand, she laid it on his bare back, Peter reacting by yelping even louder as if stung and falling over with a crash into a stack of discarded water calabash. Wendy giggled as he floundered, eventually clambering to his feet, blushing with embarrassment.

"Don't laugh at me!" He scowled fiercely at her, his expression causing her further mirth until the chamber rang with her peals of laughter, Wendy clutching her middle, tears springing helplessly to her eyes.

Scowling horribly, Peter stamped his foot, raising a small cloud of dust, his body vibrating with impotent anger. "Shut up!"

Calming herself, Wendy hiccuped and wiped her eyes, blinking furiously to clear the tears still clouding her vision. Peter stared hard at her.

"Why do you keep doing that....is there something stuck in your eye?"

"What do you mean?"

"That flapping thing you do with your eyelashes....its distracting."

Sticking out her tongue, Wendy flounced past Peter and made her way out of the old tree. Satisfied that he'd won the upper hand, Peter followed, finding the rear view of Wendy almost as attractive as the front.

Outside the dappled floor of the forest was cool and green, birds tweeting noisily in the trees. Wendy stood for a moment with her hands clasped together under her chin, her eyes closed, drinking in the soothing sounds of the forest. Behind her Peter emerged and promptly burped, the sound reverberating around the glade, the birds shocked into silence.

Sighing, Wendy lowered her hands and turned to regard him.

Peter was also staring up at the trees, one hand idly scratching at his belly as he stretched his other arm above his head. Wendy watched with interest, Peter seeming to have forgotten her in his quest for manly comfort. Placing her hands on her hips, she waited, and waited, and waited. Finally Peter finished his routine of scratching and turned his head, seeing Wendy as if for the first time.

"What?"

"Oh....finished are we? Can we go now?"

Grumbling to himself, Peter rolled his eyes and held out his hand. Wendy wound her fingers between his and they flew into the air, the old tree quickly swallowed up by the jungle canopy.

After only a short flight, Peter landed them on the shores of a pond, sunlight glittering off the surface like shards of glass. Wendy looked about with interest, noting the flowers carpeting the ground and the butterflies feasting on their nectar.

"Oh Peter....this is lovely.....why didn't you bring me here first?"

"Because I was starving of course......there's no food here....at least, not yet...."

"Here?"

"You wanted somewhere else to live.....this is it."

Helplessly, Wendy stared around at the flowers and pond, seeing nothing but vegetation and water. "What am I supposed to see?...There's nothing here!"

Grabbing her hand, Peter tugged her over towards a stand of what Wendy took to be young saplings. As they got nearer she noticed several odd things, her azure blue eyes opening wider as she perceived a house hidden among the branches. Dropping her hand, Peter took the dagger from his belt and cut several vines growing across the front of the odd dwelling. With them gone, it was like a curtain had been pulled and the house was suddenly revealed. Wendy squealed, clapping her hands again as Peter stepped back to allow her to get closer. She saw a door and pulled on the rope handle. It swung open and she walked inside, finding herself inside a charming little cottage, the walls and roof threaded through with more vines that sprouted sweetly scented flowers in a rainbow of colours, each more brilliant than the last.

Peter had followed her in, a smug expression on his face.

"Oh yes!" Wendy gushed."....now this is so much nicer....don't you think?"

Flipping her hair behind her shoulder, Wendy swung round to face Peter, her lips stretched in a wide smile, a glow lighting her eyes. Peter only shrugged nonchalantly, as if producing habitable cottages out of thin air was what he did everyday.

"Do you like it? If you don't, there is this cave.........." He broke off when Wendy launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting her plump lips on his for a thorough thimbling. Coming up for air Peter found himself scant inches from Wendy, her curves molding to him in a way that left him all hot and bothered, a flush creeping up his neck as his body responded in its embarrassing way again. His hard pressed leaves were straining to contain his reaction to having an armful of softly rounded Wendy and he feared that he'd burst right out of his leaves if he didn't find someway to combat the effect she had on him.

Wendy wasn't entirely oblivious to the conflict raging within her less-than-eager lover, her forget-me-not blue eyes narrowing as she watched his emotions chase themselves across his features. She correctly deducted that Peter both wanted and desired her, but was afraid to give into his urges, despite his body's very willing response. With a quick peck to his soon-to-be-manly chin, she released the poor boy and turned around, giving Peter a chance to calm his hectic pulse, his hands running nervously through his already tousled hair while he blew out a breath to still his hammering heart. Wendy peeked at him over her shoulder, glad to see that he hadn't run away.

"Why don't you go and see if there is something to eat out there Peter....as you said, there's nothing here, and I need to take care of a couple of...er....personal things." She waved her hand airily as she inspected the room they were in. "If you could bring me my bag, is there somewhere to sleep in here?"

Clearing his throat, Peter indicated the door leading into a back room. "I'll....er....be back....er....soon..." Without waiting for a reply, he took off at a run out of the hut and shot into the air, the cool rush of wind helping to shed some of the heat pulsing through his body.

Wendy stood in the middle of the room tapping one perfectly manicured fingernail against her pearly white teeth. Obviously it was going to take all her feminine wiles to overcome Peter's skittish reaction to her unmistakable signals. "Ah well, I've always loved a challenge."

Humming, she decided to inspect her new home, delighting in the flowers that perfumed the air, butterflies bobbing from bloom to bloom, the birds serenading her with song as she plotted the seduction of Peter Pan.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Peter returned to his old tree, he found a rather irate fairy buzzing angrily about his head, her hands pulling and tweaking his hair and ears, her tinkling voice berating him as he gathered together bits and pieces, stuffing them into Wendy's valise.

"For heaven's sake Tink.....quit yelling...I'm not deaf!"

Tink let go a long tirade, until Peter dropped the bag and clapped his hands over his ears.

"I'm not demented either.....what do you have against Wendy anyway?"

Tink turned a bright red, her wings positively crackling as she flitted about his head, sparks flying from her mouth as she hovered near the end of his nose, her tiny hands on her hips.

"Aw, quit it Tink.....she's here now, and calling her all the names under the sun won't change that. You really are not very polite are you."

Infuriated, Tink kicked his nose, making Peter yelp and clap a hand over his face as Tink darted to the top of his head and yanked a handful of hair.

"Ow...that hurt....what's got into you? I'm not a silly ass...you knew I was going to get her....you could have come too..." Peter ducked from a fairy dive bomb as Tinkerbell shot over his head, her wings creating a downdraft that ruffled his hair. In fairy dust, Tink drew a pair of long ears and a tail on Peter before she brayed like a donkey next to his ear making him flinch.

Peter scowled at his infuriated friend, batting the fairy dust away and gathering up the items at his feet, his fingers gripping the valise as he prepared to leave his old hideout.

"You can swear all you want....Wendy is here now...and I think...I think she's going to stay this time."

As if he'd said the hated words, I don't believe in fairies, Tinkerbell froze, suspended in the air like a miniature sunburst, her tiny face slack with shock. Peter cast her a worried glance before tightening his grip on the bag and marching towards the way out. Coming out of her state of shock, Tink flew after him, her voice still berating him as they left the tree and Peter lifted into the air, Tink flying beside him.

"She's really not that bad, Tink....once you get to know her..." Peter said dreamily, his body reminding him how it felt to hold Wendy in his arms. Tink saw his eyes glaze over and flew over to his ear and gave it a savage tweak. Peter yelped and dropped several feet, his free hand coming up to rub the offended ear, casting Tink an aggrieved look.

"I don't think you should come with me Tink....not until you learn to be more polite...."

Veering off, Peter put on a burst of speed that left Tinkerbell far behind, the fairy slowing her flight until she stopped altogether, watching Peter disappear over the tree tops, her tiny body filled with rage at the thought of that great ugly, lumping girl having anything to do with her Pan. It was enough to make the tiny fairy want to do something really, really wicked.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy was singing to herself as she splashed about in the pond, the water around her covered in a fine froth, the scent of her favourite perfume rising with each burst of a soapy bubble. She hadn't been entirely fibbing when she'd sent Peter away with the excuse of things to do. She'd been dying to answer the call of nature and afterwards wanted to wash off the dirt of the underground hideout. The pool had beckoned and she congratulated herself on slipping the bar of soap into her trouser pocket. Now she lathered up her arms and across her shoulders, paying particular attention to her creamy skin, as alabaster white as the rest of her, a nice contrast with her rosepetal lips and forget-me-not eyes. Her hair floated around her, darker than its usual honey-gold tinged with sunlight, its curls temporarily straightened.

"We have to drink from that!"

Peter's voice made Wendy jump, her hands automatically coming up to cross over her chest and rest on her shoulders. Twisting around, she saw Peter crouching next to the rock that she'd put her shirt and trousers on, his hand dipping into the water to scoop up a handful of soapy bubbles, his nose twitching.

"You've made the water all mucky....what is this stuff?"

Keeping herself submerged up to her shoulders, Wendy made her way towards the shore, froth clinging to the ends of her hair, catching the sunlight with rainbow hues.

"The water is lovely Peter....and you could benefit from a few of these soap bubbles yourself."

"What are you saying....that I smell?"

Wendy smiled at Peter's indignant tone. She actually rather liked Peter's smell, a combination of sea air, wet earth and something uniquely Neverland, but she wasn't about to waste an opportunity to get the boy wet.

"When did you last take a bath Peter? I'm sure it must have been simply ages ago, its not as if the water will hurt you...."

"I didn't say it would..." Peter sniffed the bubbles, recognizing the scent. "I went for a swim....er...a couple of days ago..."

"Oh well, if that's what you call a bath, no wonder...."

"What do you mean?"

"Soap and water?.....Getting clean?"

"Don't need soap.....don't need to be clean..."

"No, well......I guess you won't mind living in that dirty old underground mess then....I can't have dirty people living in my beautiful house, can I?"

Peter watched as Wendy turned her back on him, swimming back across the pool to where she'd left her soap. On one hand he was pleased that she thought the house he'd presented her with was beautiful, but on the other he wasn't at all sure about this bathing business. Cautiously he lifted one arm and tilted his head to sniff himself, his nose wrinkling when he detected the unmistakably manly odour of several days sweat. His feet looked a bit black and grubby too, as did his hands, and as for his fingernails!!

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to get a bit clean. I suppose you'll want me to take my leaves off and wash those as well?"

Keeping her head turned away from him, Wendy airily waved her hand. "Well it would be a shame to put dirty leaves back on when you go to all the trouble of getting clean...don't you think?" She rubbed the bar of soap up and down her arm leisurely, resuming her tuneful humming. Peter kept one eye on Wendy while he divested himself of his increasingly tight leaves, almost relieved to leave them in a heap on the ground and slip into the tepid water of the pool. Sinking below the water, he swam a little way before surfacing, shaking his head to get rid of the excess water before reaching up to smooth it back from his face. Wendy had studiously ignored him, her hair now lathered up and piled haphazardly on the top of her head, the soap keeping it in place. Peter laughed out loud and swam over to poke at the pile of hair and soap-suds.

Keeping her back to him, Wendy held the bar of soap on her upturned palm and waited for him to take it. Peter went to grab the soap which promptly slipped through his fingers and sailed through the air. He dived to catch it only to have it shoot out of his fumbling fingers and slither into the water, heading for the deep. Horrified, he dived under the water and managed to grasp the slippery bar, spluttering to the surface holding it above his head triumphantly.

"It works better when you put it on your skin..." Wendy drawled, looking at Peter over her shoulder.

"It's slippery..."

"It's soap....feel free, I have half a dozen more in my bag."

Careful not to let it slip out of his fingers, Peter cautiously rubbed at the soap, getting familiar with the texture and the knack of holding it without losing it. Gaining confidence he slithered it up his arm, amazed to see the expanse of shiny, clean skin that appeared behind each sweep of silky bubbles.

"Hey....this is fun!"

"Isn't it..." Wendy purred, leaving the bemused Pan to explore the delights of bathing while she attended to her hair, rinsing it thoroughly and draping it elegantly over one shoulder.

The pond surface quickly became thick with soap bubbles, the water murky with the residue as Peter lathered himself all over, lifting his feet out of the water to soap them, amazed when his skin changed colour from black to pink and gold.

Wendy kept her distance, not wanting to frighten Peter off too soon, her plans to make bathing a regular pastime dependant on Peter enjoying his first experience with the ritual. While he thrashed and splashed, she swam a little ways off, keeping her back to him most of the time, as if uninterested in his antics, always keeping half an eye on him to enjoy the view of lanky limbs and acres of tanned skin that appeared and disappeared as Peter bathed.

In the trees around the glade she heard the chatter of birds and monkeys, the small primates swinging nimbly from branch to branch, calling to each other as they traversed the forest. Wendy trod water and watched the small troop descend to the ground, wading through the carpet of flowers, plucking them and stuffing the bright blooms into their mouths as quickly as they could pick them. Wendy laughed, drawing their attention, the whole troop freezing for a few seconds before resuming their feast of flowers. Peter ignored the animals, his head, face and shoulders liberally coated in a white, frothy foam. He was sitting in the water near the edge of the pond, the soap now much reduced in size, laying on a large rock. As Peter scrubbed at his face, his eyes screwed shut, Wendy silently swam over, her eyes traveling the length of his torso to where the water lapped around his waistline. Peter was grinning, his fingers threading through his hair, making it stick up in all directions like a porcupine, his eyes still tightly closed against the sting of the soap.

"Hey Wendy, look!! I'm a hedgehog!"

Wendy grinned at him and scooped a handful of water up and over his head. "You look all spiky!"

Hearing Wendy's voice so close, Peter scooted forward into the water and ducked under, the soap forming a wide ring where he disappeared. Within seconds he surfaced again, the soap gone from his face, his hair once more flat against his head, but now shiny and clean. He blinked rapidly as Wendy swam closer, only her head visible.

"Um....er...I don't think you should come any closer."

"Oh? Why not?" Wendy asked, pausing in her approach as a blush stole up Peter's chest and coloured his face crimson.

"Be-ca-ause I'm...er...you're not....um....we're not wearing any clothes." Peter squeaked, his heart starting to pound.

"But the water is all soapy....you can't see anything anyway...can you?"

"Er....no....I guess not."

"So it doesn't matter if we're not wearing any clothes, does it?"

Swallowing hard, Peter nodded slightly, his eyes riveted on the water lapping at Wendy's milky shoulders, the rest of her hidden from view below the surface.

Wendy came closer and circled him, her eyes sweeping over him, Peter's head twisting to keep her in sight, his breath hitching.

"Can I touch you Peter? You look quite different now all that dirt is gone...quite handsome in fact."

"I do?....I mean, I am?"

"Oh yes.....you're skin looks so....nice. Do I look nice, Peter?"

Swallowing again, Peter nodded his head, blushing still.

Wendy had been slowly moving forward, while Peter had been back peddling until they now floated in the deepest part of the pond, Wendy standing on tip-toes, while Peter stood flat-footed, his eyes staring warily at her as she placed her hands on his shoulders, smoothing her fingers over his dips and hollows, her nails trailing over his skin.

She could feel how tense he was, her fingers lightly brushing upwards, stroking his neck, Peter's eyes flicking between keeping track of her hand and concentrating on her face, now scant inches from his own.

"You could touch me too, Peter....if you want to?"

As if in a dream, Peter raised his hand and gingerly touched Wendy's shoulder, his eyes following his fingers as they brushed along her collar bone, exploring the feel of her softness, enthralled at the texture of her skin. He felt heat starting to pool in his stomach, faint tremors snaking down his nerves as Wendy smoothed her hand behind his neck, burrowing her digits into the hair curling against his nape.

Completely mesmerized by his hand wandering over Wendy's upper arms and shoulders, Peter almost jumped when he felt something warm and soft press against his chest seconds before Wendy pressed herself fully against the length of him, her body still hidden by the milky water.

Unwilling to let her hesitant lover back away, Wendy tightened her arms around his neck, her lips curving into a smug smile as Peter's eyes slammed shut and his mouth opened in a sharp gasp, his body reacting to the feel of warm, wet Wendy pressed against him.

Purring to herself, Wendy wriggled herself against him more firmly, eliciting a groan as Peter's eyes flew open, his arms slowly encircling her shoulders, keeping her against him. Smiling at his bemused expression, Wendy squirmed some more, loving the feel of the water swirling around them, the heat from Peter's body washing over her, his hard planes fitting her soft curves perfectly. She lifted herself slightly, another throaty groan from Peter her reward as she rubbed against him, Wendy placed her lips against his ear.

"Do you like this Peter?"

Unable to articulate the sensations coursing through his brain and body, Peter could only manage a grunt and a faint nod as his arms tightened around her his eyes sliding shut as she writhed again.

"I'll take that as a yes." Wendy whispered.

Peter felt on fire, his every nerve ending throbbing with sensation. He had enjoyed it when Wendy thimbled him, he'd found it very pleasant to hold Wendy in his arms with all their clothes on, but nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of warm, wet, naked Wendy pressed against him, her hot breath brushing his ear, her heart beating against his, her skin sliding over his in the water. He felt as if he'd spontaneously combust if she kept on moving the way she was.

Once more, Wendy moved against him, her soft flesh pressing against his hardness, the delicious friction causing a spike of almost unbearable heat to flood his groin, his body convulsing as he shuddered uncontrollably, the delicious tightness melting away as he panted against Wendy's neck.

"Oh my goodness!" Wendy's eyes opened wide as she felt the heat emanating from Peter, his body jerking against her causing ripples in the water, his muscles relaxing from the tautness before, his head heavy against her shoulder as he panted shallowly. "Oh my...goodness!!"

After a few moments, Peter raised his head and smiled goofily, lips stretched wide, eyes dilated and dreamy, his body completely relaxed.

"Wow....that was fun. Does that happen every time you take a bath?"

Wendy giggled, snorting inelegantly as Peter regarded her with his silly grin plastered across his face. "No...I think I can honestly say that has never happened before when I've taken a bath. Was it nice?"

Peter nodded happily, floating bonelessly, his arms tightening around her as she made to let go. "Can we do that again?"

Shoving a little harder, Wendy disentangled herself from Peter and swam away from him, her expression wry. Peter, freed from her support, sank beneath the water for a few seconds before surfacing, his grin still in place, a twinkle in his eye.

"I'm sure we can do that again....but not now. I'm turning into a prune and I'm hungry." Turning her back on her adorably confused lover, Wendy swam to the edge of the pool and paused before climbing out. "Turn your back Peter....please."

Pouting, Peter slowly turned away, confused at the mixed signals he was having a hard time interpreting. He felt that he'd just shared something wonderful and intimate with Wendy, but now she didn't want him to see her body, and Peter really, really wanted to see what had been pressed to enticingly against him such a short time before.

"Don't you turn around now....." Wendy admonished, the sound of splashing and dripping water tempting Peter to peek, his head turning slightly before Wendy spoke again. "Don't you dare Peter Pan, or what just happened won't be happening again...ever!"

Grinning, Peter faced away, his body pleasantly languid. He wasn't about to jeopardize the chance of whatever it was that they just did, happening again.

Wendy wrestled her way into her clothes, her damp skin sticking to the cotton of her trousers. She smiled to herself, congratulating herself on introducing Peter to some the pleasures to be had between a boy and a girl. That it had been entirely one sided didn't bother her unduly. She had only whetted his appetite. The next time he'd be more than willing to do whatever she wanted, anything her little heart desired if only to repeat the intensity of his experience in the forest pool. Humming to herself, Wendy tripped through the flowers, her squeaky clean, wet hair swinging against her back, her thoughts all on the night to come.

Behind her, Peter swam slowly to the side of the pool, his body still singing. He rested his elbows on the rock and contemplated what had just happened. If just the feel of her against him could do that, what would seeing all of her and feeling her be like? Catching sight of his discarded leaves, he scowled at the prospect of tugging them on over his heated skin. He needed something else to wear.

Uncaring of his naked state, he hoisted himself out of the pool and stood for a few seconds, shaking his head like a dog to shed excess water before leaping into the air and zipping away over the tree tops. There were clothes in one of the chests in the old tree, he was sure to find something to fit. Feeling a bubble of energy rise up within him, Peter twirled and twisted in the air, a shout of pure joy escaping his lips as he sped towards his old hideout.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: The Third - Seductus Interruptus
Wendy pursues an agenda which proves harder than she expected.


ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Wendy hummed to herself as she emptied the contents of her carpet bag. Her hair had dried and now floated around her shoulders as she swirled through the fragrant rooms of the cottage. Outside the sun was sliding towards evening, the dusk chorus of birds a constant background melody. Peter had returned not long after she'd started to put the cottage to right, his arrival greeted with a healthy appetite, the fruit he'd collected on the way over deposited on the table and rapidly consumed.

Wendy had been pleased to see that Peter had discarded his uncomfortably tight leaves for a more relaxed sleeveless shirt and breeches, his nicely muscled arms providing Wendy with ample entertainment as they ate their meal together. After tossing the remains of cores and rinds out of a convenient window, Wendy had sent Peter off to see about catching something for their supper. Peter still wore his slightly bemused, silly grin from their time in the pool, which, while endearing, was starting to grate slightly on Wendy's rather frustrated nerves. She also wanted some time to tidy up the house ready for her grand seduction later on that evening. So she sent Peter away, with instructions for him to return at sunset, whereupon Wendy would be more than ready to advance her plans to jump the delectable boy.

Peeping out one of the windows, she noted the sky starting to turn a fetching shade of pink, a forerunner to the glorious sunset to come. The house was as tidy as she could make it, the bed in the back room as enticingly arrayed as she could manage with her wispy drapery and colourful petals, as well as strategically placed scented candles. Now all she needed to do was change into her nightwear and await her erstwhile lovers to return.

Draping herself temptingly across a rough-hewn chair, she flicked her gleaming hair to lay enticingly across one shoulder, softly curling against her breast. Licking her lips and pouting prettily she relaxed back against the chair and took a some calming breaths.

After a few minutes, she shifted, the hard edge of the chair digging uncomfortably into her backside. Rearranging the fall of her nightdress, Wendy fixed a faint smile on her plump lips and waited again.

She must have dozed because the next moment the sound of something being slapped on the table in front of her jerked her awake, her nose wrinkling at the strong smell of fish now permeating the room.

"I brought supper, just like you asked."

Wendy stared down at the half-a-dozen silvery fish staring goggle-eyed up at her from the table top, their mouths hanging open in mute protest at the prospect of being eaten.

"Ugh! What on earth do you expect me to do with these?"

Wiping his wet hands down the sides of his trousers, Peter flopped into the other chair, his smile slipping slightly at her obvious disgust.

"Gut, scale and cook 'em...of course."

Wendy pushed herself back from the table to avoid any of the sea water currently oozing out of the fish making contact with her clothes.

"Ewwww, no way.....I couldn't, I don't......gut them? But I thought..."

Peter stared at her perplexed as she floundered, wringing her hands and stepping away from the table. At this point he noted that Wendy was wearing the fetching number she'd had on when he'd first seen her at the bedroom window. He stared appreciatively at the curves and shadowed hollows revealed as Wendy moved another step back, twitching her skirts away from the table edge. Not only did his eyes note Wendy's new attire, other parts of his body were sitting up and taking notice as well, his formerly loose breeches suddenly proving as tight as his leaves.

"Um....that's a very nice dress you're wearing Wendy....is that the same one..."

"Yes...it is...and I'm not going to ruin it by getting fish guts all over it....so you can take that smelly lot outside and do whatever it is you do to fish to make it edible....."

Flicking his eyes down to the limp bodies on the table, Peter suddenly got a speculative gleam in his eye, his lips tugging into a grin as he reached forward and snagged one of the smaller fish by the tail and, holding it up, waggled it back and forth as he slowly rose to his feet.

"It's not difficult Wendy....they're only little fish....I'll show you how to pull all the innards out and scrape the scales off." He wriggled the fish a bit more forcefully, drips splashing onto the table top, making Wendy back away another step. "Of course, you won't want to get your dress all smelly." Peter grinned slyly. "Maybe you ought to take it off..."

Wendy had been watching the wet fish waving back and forth, her eyes riveted to the movement. Now she snapped her attention up to Peter's face, seeing the look in his eyes and feeling her heart give a lurch.

"You wouldn't dare Peter Pan...you keep that smelly fish away from me....I'll scream!"

Easing himself out of his seat, Peter swung the fish in an arc and brought it down to slap into his other hand with a smacking sound, splashes of water spraying out over him and the table. Wendy held her hands out in front of her as if to ward him off, her eyes darting from the fish to his face.

"Don't be horrid Peter....it's nasty and smelly and...and..I will scream if you bring that thing any closer!"

"Scream away....I don't mind....." Peter replied, grinning widely as Wendy gaped at him. He didn't intend to do anything more than tease her, but the sight of her flushed face and heaving bosom was having a strange affect on him, his usual shyness around her taking a back seat to a rising desire to take control, to have fun and maybe get a little dirty again, enough to suggest another bath in the pool.

"Peter, if you get any of that smelly fish on this nightdress I'll..."

"You'll what...take it off? Well you'd better do something, because this fish is going to be getting a lot closer....a lot closer." He swung the fish around again and slapped it against his open hand, the sound making Wendy gasp as she recognized the wicked glint in his eye.

"You just would, wouldn't you!"

Peter only nodded and took another step forward. It was too much for Wendy, she spun on her heel and fled into the bedroom. Peter let out a whoop and gave chase, the fish now twirling above his head in a mad swirl of silver scales.

Wendy shrieked and hitched up her skirts, making a mad dash across the bed, petals scattering beneath her feet, to reach the large unglazed window on the other side of the room. As she clambered out, she looked over her shoulder to see Peter leap onto the bed, the fish still clutched in his fist. With a scream, Wendy jumped to the ground and took off, her hair and skirts streaming out behind her as she dashed through the swaying field of flowers.

Vaulting through the window, Peter kept up his pursuit, whooping and yelling, the fish still clutched in his fist but all but forgotten as he plunged into the glade of nodding blooms, his eyes firmly fixed on the sight of Wendy's long legs, skirts hitched up, bare to the thigh, her hair flying out behind her. Casting the fish away, he picked up his pace, dodging to match Wendy's erratic course, his feet eating up the distance until he was close enough to launch himself forward and tackle her to the ground in a flurry of limbs and nightgown. Peter had twisted in mid tackle and landed on his back, Wendy on top of him, both of them finding themselves breathless from the impact.

"You silly ass, let me go!" Wendy gasped, trying ineffectually to wrest Peter's arms from around her waist, her arms pinned to her sides with only her feet free to aid her escape.

She felt Peter shaking beneath her, his chest quaking against her back.

"Are you laughing?" Wendy squealed indignantly, tossing her head to get her hair out of her eyes. Suddenly Peter released his grip around her waist and Wendy was free. Rolling onto her side she lay there, panting from her run, her heart thundering. Peter lay on his back behind her, weakly laughing, also trying to catch his breath.

Suddenly remembering what had precipitated her headlong flight, Wendy scrabbled to push her hair out of her face. "Where's that damn fish?"

"Somewhere over there..." Peter waved his hand indicating off to the right. "Why....want to have a go at gutting it now?"

His laughter interspersed with gasps, Peter rolled onto his side, one long arm looping over Wendy's waist to pull her back against him. The sun was now behind the trees, golden light filtering through the leaves to bathe the glade in a soft glow. Above their heads the clouds were coloured in soft pinks and mauve, wafting across an apricot sky, the first stars starting to twinkle up high.

"You are perfectly horrid, Peter Pan. A gentleman wouldn't threaten a lady with a revolting fish let alone expect her to...to..gut it." Wendy tried to make her voice icy, but it only came out breathless and husky.

"You don't know how to gut a fish? I could show you....."

"I don't want to know how to gut a fish Peter....it's.....icky!"

"You like to eat fish, don't you?"

"Eat it yes....all the rest....ugh!"

Still laying in the sadly crushed flowers, the sun now fading, Wendy felt strangely at peace, her breathing slowing back to normal, her heart no longer pounding in her chest, Peter's warmth against her back. She felt him shift and his breath suddenly brushed hotly across her ear, sending a shiver down her back.

"This isn't getting our supper cooked...." Wendy said, feeling Peter's arm tighten around her waist.

"I'm not hungry anymore....wanna take another bath?"

Huffing to herself, Wendy contemplated how her plans had all been thrown to the four winds, her attempt to seduce Peter reduced to being chased with a smelly fish. Mind you, Wendy thought, the outcome was nearly the same. She was laying in a field of flowers with the object of her seduction nuzzling her neck, his arm tight around her waist. If he didn't have a faint aroma of fish about him, she'd almost be content to let his wandering hands carry on their quest if it wasn't for the fact she was starting to feel a little uncomfortable and still rather hungry.

With a sudden lurch, she pulled out of Peter's embrace and scrabbled to her feet, her hands attempting to straighten her nightdress and untangle her hair at the same time.

Peter looked up at her with an aggrieved expression, his grin fading to a frustrated pout. Taking pity on him, Wendy held out her hand to help him up.

"Let's get back to the house.....I'll get out of this and make a start on a fire..if you see to those fish?"

Peter regarded her closely for a minute before nodding his head, a grin appearing, his teeth gleaming in the fading light."Need a hand?"

They walked slowly back to the cottage, Peter's fingers finding hers before they had taken a few steps, Wendy returning his light squeeze with one of her own, studiously ignoring his naughty suggestion.

An hour later a fire burned brightly among the stones, two fish impaled on sticks leaning over the heat, the flesh dripping juice into the flames.

Wendy was licking her fingers after devouring a bowl of the tender meat, Peter still eating his, his face liberally smeared with fish juices. Their eyes met and the world narrowed down to just the two of them, then something popped in the fire and they both jerked back to the present, Wendy lowering her gaze, her long lashes fluttering, to the flames while Peter wiped his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. Beyond the reach of the firelight, the trees sighed in the faint breeze, the sound of insect faintly thrumming among the leaves while the bright stars sparkled overhead.

Wiping his fingers on his trousers, Peter reached for the remaining fish, dragging the lightly charred remains off the sticks and into two large banana leaves before deftly wrapping them up and putting them to one side. The two stakes were then consigned to the flames, the fish oil spitting and sending sparks high in the air.

"They'll do for breakfast, doncha think?"

"They'll be fine for breakfast Peter. Pass them here, I'll take them inside."

Dusting herself off, Wendy sighed as she got to her feet, turning from the fire after Peter handed her the wrapped fish. Her grand plans to seduce the boy were rapidly fading as weariness from the long day caused an unladylike yawn to nearly split her face. Behind her Peter poked at the fire but didn't add any more fuel, his face glowing from the heat, his hair glinting with reflected gold. With a final jab he rose to his feet and cast a glance up at the heavens, watching a shooting star riding the velvet blue until it disappeared behind the bulk of the looming volcano off to the west.

Inside the cottage he could see Wendy's shadow thrown by the candle lantern hanging in the front room. He felt unaccountably awkward, his emotions swinging from a burning desire to explore more fully what had happened in the pool, to an overwhelming desire to run for the hills and not look back.

As he dithered the decision was taken out of his hands when Wendy called to him.

"Oh Peter....are you coming inside?"

Swallowing hard, Peter squared his shoulders before purposefully marching the short distance to the doorway, his pulse quickening.

Inside Wendy had shelved the fish in the makeshift larder before preparing herself for bed. Her nightgown was lying crumpled in the corner of the bedroom where she'd flung it earlier on, to change into her more prosaic attire. Now she only had a more sensible lawn nighty to disport herself in. Ruefully she reflected that despite the less romantic style of the one, it would most probably outlast the other. She quickly divested herself of her trousers and shirt, twitching them with a curl of disgust to land on the heap growing in the corner. Tomorrow she'd have to wash the lot, either that or find another source of clothes. The cotton nighty was a little snug, being a year old at least, but it felt cool against her skin and she stretched, her fingers reaching for the rafters while her toes curled against the rough floor. She heard Peter enter the cottage, his scuffing feet barely audible. Relaxing her arms, she poked her head around the corner of the doorway and called again.

"I'm going to bed now Peter.....um....." Before she could finish Peter's head jerked up and a frown marred his forehead.

"Where am I going to sleep?"

"Where would you like to sleep?" Wendy asked coyly, coming to stand in the doorway, her arms behind her back, pushing her cotton covered bosom to the fore. Peter's eyes were instantly riveted to the sight, his tongue snaking out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

"Could I....er...um...maybe..." His voice squeaked again, "with...you?"

"Do you snore?"

The frown was back. "Snore...I don't...think so...I don't know...do you?!"

"Of course not, a lady never snores." Wendy retorted blithely. "Well if you keep me awake with your snoring, you'll find yourself sleeping on the floor." Turning her back on him, Wendy sashayed over to the bed and pulled the fur covers back. They had all had a fair beating, to remove the dust, grit and dead bugs that had accumulated, that afternoon and Wendy was pleased to feel how soft and warm they were. Peter had followed her into the room, his eyes darting everywhere but at Wendy, his hands suddenly finding themselves fidgeting with the vines on the walls..

Wendy sat with her knees pulled up under the fur cover, her softly curling hair draped over her shoulders like a cape.

"Put the light out when you're ready Peter.....goodnight."

Falling back onto the pillows, Wendy turned on her side and appeared to fall instantly asleep.

"Oh...er....goodnight Wendy."

Feeling a little disappointed, Peter padded into the main room and blew out the lantern, leaving only the candles by the bed to illuminate his way back. Wendy appeared to be sound asleep, her back turned to him. Having nothing to change into, Peter took off his shirt and trousers as quietly as possible, ready to leap back into them if Wendy so much as twitched. Getting no reaction, he cautiously approached the bed, carefully pulling back the covers and sitting gingerly on the edge. Leaning over he snuffed the remaining candles, plunging the room into darkness. As his eyes became accustomed, starlight shone through the open window, gilding the room with silvery highlights.

Swallowing, Peter eased himself into the bed, his long legs sliding over the fur, a tingling sensation rippling through his nerves. Letting go a breath he hadn't known he was holding, he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, the furs pulled to his chest.

After several minutes of listening to Wendy's supposedly steady breathing, Peter started to relax, his fingers unclenching from their death grip on the bed cover, his toes uncurling as his legs relaxed. A breathy sigh from beside him made him tense up again, but as nothing else happened he carefully turned on his side to face Wendy's back.

His voice barely above a whisper, Peter addressed the dark silhouette beside him. "Wendy....are you asleep?"

In the darkness, Wendy couldn't stop the grin from painting her face. As she remained silent, she felt a tentative hand touch her shoulder, the fingers sliding over the thin cotton of her nightdress before giving her a little shake. "Wendy....I know you're playing possum..."

Sighing gustily, Wendy rolled over and resettled herself, now facing Peter. "What's the matter.....aren't you tired?"

"I was....I'm just...what happened in the pool?"

Wendy could almost feel the heat of his blush despite the distance between them.

"Don't you know?"

"Um....I know what happened, but is that what you were talking about when you said there was so much more to growing up?"

"Well, it's certainly a large part of it....haven't you felt different? Sort of curious to know why all the girls you know want to kiss you and touch you?"

"I guess...sometimes I feel....I don't know...that there's something I want...really, really badly."

"Has what happened in the pool happened before?"

Again, Peter's blush was almost incandescent. "Maybe...."

"Would you like it to happen again?"

Peter's reply was almost inaudible. "Yes."

Biting her lip to stop a giggle breaking free, Wendy reached out a hand and gently stroked Peter's cheek, feeling the heat from his blush hidden from her by the dark.

Emboldened by her touch, Peter leant forward and pressed his lips to hers. It was a butterfly kiss, their lips barely touching, their breaths mingling as they explored at their leisure, the dark heightening their other senses as they lay lip to lip.

Outside the love-nest, two figures silently crept up on the unsuspecting lovers. A faint glow from one illuminated the face of the other. Both reached the open window and sat with their backs to the wall.

"Are you sure they're in there Tinkerbell?"

A faint sound of bells greeted the Indian Princess's whispered question. Keeping her glow to a minimum, Tinkerbell peers over the edge of the sill, her glow turning red as she watched the two shapes in the bed meld into one. Tiger Lily joined her fairy accomplis and gasped as the starlight showed her the two necking in the bed. Pulling her dagger she held it briefly between the tips of her fingers before filling her lungs and letting fly a war whoop that could have shattered glass. At the same time she twisted and loosed the dagger so that it flew over the bed, narrowly missing Peter's head as he shot upright and burying itself deep in the wall, the blade thrumming with the vibration. Wendy screamed when a red lightning ball shot into the room and whacked her head, strands of her soft hair ripped out by an enraged ball of energy. Before either could react the attack was over and the red ball zipped out of the window in hot pursuit of the figure legging it into the trees.

Peter had leapt out of bed and promptly tangled himself in the bed cover, dragging it down with him as he met the floor with his face, knocking him out cold. Wendy screamed again and tried to stop the cover sliding off the bed, compounding the problem. Scuttling out of the bed and racing to the other room, Wendy shakily lit the lantern, her hair wild about her face, her scalp still smarting from whatever evil sprite had pulled her hair.

"Peter...what...who....Peter?"

Walking back into the bedroom, the lantern held high, Wendy nearly tripped over Peter's insensible body, the covers wound around his legs like a snake.

Kneeling down, Wendy placed the lantern by his head and gently shook his shoulder. Getting no response, she shook him again, but his head only lolled against the floor, dead to the world.

Getting to her feet she cautiously approached the window and peered out. The glade was silent once more, the trees dark and full of secrets. Shivering, Wendy turned away and her eyes fell on the knife stuck firmly in the wall above the bed. Gulping, she clambered onto the bed and tried to pull it free but it was stuck good.

Sitting back on her heels she surveyed the disaster of a bed, a tear welling in her eye as she sniffed.

She thought briefly of heaving Peter back onto the bed but he looked quite comfortably where he was and she didn't feel disposed to work up a sweat at this time of night. Still sniffing, she checked on him once more, making sure he was still breathing before crawling back onto the disheveled bed and curling herself into a ball, her face buried in the pillows.

Feeling very sorry for herself and just a little bit frightened, Wendy shut her eyes and dozed off, waking every few seconds to check the room before dozing off again. Eventually sleep won out and she relaxed, the candle lantern spluttering out just as the first hint of dawn crept above over the tree tops.


oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Chapter: The Fourth - Unrest in Neverland


Some of the denizens of the island are not entirely happy campers.


oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo



Let us leave our thwarted lovers in their cosy cabin for the moment. What of the other creatures and characters that inhabit the island of Neverland? Of Tink and Princess Tiger Lily, we already know that they are currently hoofing it through the forest, leaping logs and laughing after their nighttime prank, Tink's bright glow lighting the way for the wicked Indian Maid, her tinkling laughter like silver bells in the silence of the wood.

Once out of sight of the flower be-decked cabin, the pretty Princess collapsed onto the forest floor and held her sides as she laughed, Tink fluttering down beside her to join in the jest.

"Did you see her face? I swear her eyes nearly popped out of her head!"

Tink chimed merrily, adding her own observations.

"And did you see Peter? Not a stitch on, I nearly skewered him, wouldn't that have served him right, the two-timing weasel!"

Tink again added her own comments in her bell-like chimes, her light turning several shades from pale lemon, to scarlet as her emotions swung from delight at causing such mayhem to outright devilry at the prospect of causing more. Eventually Tink and the Princess calmed themselves, Tink settling herself beside her accomplis on the leaf strewn ground.

"What are we going to do tomorrow Tink?"

Tiger Lily listened as Tink suggested several ideas to disrupt the lives of Wendy and Peter. Lily had to smile, Tink really did have it in for poor Wendy.

"I think we'll have to leave it until tomorrow night Tink, I'm bushed. Meet you at the old hideout?"

Tink nodded her head and yawned expansively. Moments later the two went their separate ways, the fairy's light bobbing and weaving through the trees to her nighttime roost, Tiger Lily back to her village and her soft sleeping furs.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Out in the moonlit bay, just around the headland from Mermaid Lagoon, the darkened outline of a brig wallowed in the gentle swell. The Jolly Roger lay at peaceful anchor, her crew below decks, slumbering in their bunks or hammocks, the watchman slumped against the railing, his mouth open as he snored.

Since the passing of her pirate Captain, the ship had become nothing more than a floating bunkhouse, the crew grown lax and lazy, the ship showing the signs of their neglect in her slippery decks and unpolished woodwork. The sails flapped listlessly in the faint breeze, the ropes tangled and hanging loose among the rigging. The ship creaked, as all ships do, her planks and bulwarks groaning against the slight roll of the swell. Among the glittering waves sleek bodies wove their sinuous way, scales catching the gleam of moonshine as they dove and twisted through the water. Half a dozen mermaids popped their heads out of the sea and gazed up at the black ship's sides, their obsidian eyes reflecting the moonlight, their wet seaweed hair floating around their heads.

Arranging themselves in a circle, the Mermaids started to sing, the tune foreign to human ears, the water within the circle bubbling and hissing as something rose to the surface. Lifting their arms, the Mermaids continued their unearthly chant, a weed enshrouded body rising out of the sea and into the air, rising up the side of the ship and over the railing, floating though the air to land softly against the un-scrubbed deck.

As suddenly as they started, the Mermaids ceased their chanting and slipped below the waves, glistening tails slapping the surface before speeding their owners into the depths of the dark sea.

First Mate of the Jolly Roger, Jeremiah Smee scratched his exposed belly as he staggered onto the poop-deck to take care of his over-full bladder. He sighed deeply as he leaned back, his eyes closed as he relieved himself over the side. Finished, he stretched his arms and yawned expansively before turning around to find his bed once more. As he headed for the hatchway his foot connected with something on the deck and he fell flat on his face.

"What the....who left this pile of rubbish littering the deck, ya swabs!?" Smee bellowed, rubbing his elbow as he sat looking at the pile of seaweed laying wetly before him. "Dammit....I'm not cleaning up this mess...I'm for me bed!"

Before he could move the heap moved and a low moan issued forth. Smee froze, his eyes bugging as he watched the now heaving pile of seaweed.

"Damn and blast, who put this pile of rotting seaweed upon me!?"

Goggling, Smee scrambled to get away from the writhing mass, his ears hardly believing the voice issuing from the thrashing mess.

"God's blood, where are ya, ya gallows spawn, get me out of this!"

His eyes still wide, his mouth flapping open, Smee crawled over to the slippery mound and started to pull the stinking weed away from the body trying to free itself.

"C-c-c-ca-a-aptain?"

"Is that you Smee? Confound your eyes, get me out of this slime."

"Er.....yes Capt'n, right away Capt'n, in a jiffy Capt'n!" Smee babbled, all the time ripping more of the seaweed away to expose the person within. Finally the last rubbery strand had been pulled away and Captain James Aurelius Hook sat staring back at his horribly surprised first mate.

"Well don't just sit there you lubbard, help me up."

"Right you are then, Captain....up-se-daisy."

Planting his feet wide, Smee grasped the Captains left hand and hauled his previously deceased superior officer to his feet. Hook swayed once upright, but flapped Smee away when he reached to steady his Captain.

"Don't fuss Smee, you old woman." Hook looked around the darkened deck, then up at the stars twinkling above. "Still in Neverland, are we?"

"Y-y-y-e-es."

"All righty then...."Hook sniffed, his aristocratic nose wrinkling at the strong smell of fish now combined with the stench of the seaweed. "Don't care for the smell Smee....the crew have been lazy in my absence. Need to get this lot cleaned up...call all hands on deck Smee...be quick about it!"

Sketching a sloppy salute, his mind still trying to catch up, Smee staggered to the ships bell and rang it forcefully, yelling all the time for all hands to come on deck. While Hook picked off the last of the weed from his embroider frock coat, the crew appeared on deck in dribs and drabs, muttering all the while like a low roll of thunder as they congregated amidships. As more lanterns appeared, more of the crew noticed the tall figure of Hook standing at the center on a raised hatch, still picking pieces of green seaweed from his clothes and hair. The muttering died away to a whisper as the crewmen surveyed their believed-to-be-dead leader.

"Is that you Captain?"

"It most certainly is Mister Cook."

"Bain't you a ghost?" Another asked in a hushed tone, muttering breaking out again.

"No Mister Jordan, I am not a ghost. If you care to test it, I'll be happy to spit ya on my steel!"

The crew backed off, avoiding Hook's icy glare as he swept their faces for any that dared to dispute his validity.

"I think the crew just wanted to know where you've been all this time, Capt'n sir....its been a number of years since we saw you gobbled up by that dang blasted crocodile."

"Ah Smee...well that is a long story, and one I don't intend to go into right now. I want a bath, a meal and me bed...in that order."

The crew collectively held their breath.

"NOW!" Hook thundered, the crew scattering to the four winds, slipping and sliding to carry out his requests. Only Smee remained where he was, his knees knocking together as James Hook sauntered over to him and extended his wickedly sharp hook to tilt Smee's chin upwards.

"I expect this deck to be swabbed and sparkling before noon tomorrow Mister Smee, or necks will be stretched."

"Of course Capt'n, swabbed and sweet in time for lunch."

"Exactly Smee." Hook draped his arm companionably around the shorter man's shoulders, turning them both to walk towards the Captain's Cabin. "Tell me what's been happening since my....demise."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Wendy groaned as she cracked an eye open to survey the wreckage of the bedroom. The chatter of monkeys climbing over the thatched roof sounded unnaturally loud and Wendy held her hands over her ears to shut out their noise.

"Go away you wretched animals....Peter?"

Peering over the side of the bed, she noted that the bed covers were where they had been the night before, but of Peter there was not sign. Looking above her head, she noted that the knife was missing also. Glaring at the bright sunlight that seemed to taunt her, Wendy picked up the scattered bed covers and heaped them back on the bed.

"Are you there Peter?"

Wandering out into the living room, she found it as empty as the other room, no evidence of any other inhabitants, human or otherwise. Above her head the monkeys continued to make a feast of the flower strewn roof for their breakfast, the occasional thump making Wendy duck her head and glare up at the ceiling as if expecting a furry body to plummet through the thatch.

Grumbling to herself, she plopped down into one of the chairs, uncaring of her attractively messy bed-hair or sadly crumpled nighty. A rumble from her midsection reminded her of breakfast and she got up to investigate the fish from the previous night. It was still safely wrapped in banana leaves so she carried it back to the table and sat picking at the flesh morosely. Above, the monkeys had finished their repast and clambered down, swinging effortlessly past the windows to the ground below, all the while chattering to each other. After they had gone Wendy almost wished them back, the silence of the little house suddenly oppressive. Having consumed the fish, she licked her fingers as she wandered back into the bedroom, contemplating her wardrobe for the day. Looking at her grubby things kicked into the corner, she wrinkled her pretty nose and sighed hugely.

"Ugh.....washing."

Gathering up the few items, she snagged a bar of soap and tottered out of the house and down to the pond. The flowers nodded cheerfully to her as she passed, their petals brushing her legs below the hem of her nightgown, their perfume scenting the morning air.

After performing her own ablutions, Wendy tied her hair back with a length of ribbon before rolling her sleeves up and commencing to beat the dirt out of her crumpled clothes. The act of washing, necessarily violent, helped to ameliorate some of the frustration caused by the previous night. She had a fair idea of who had taken part in frightening her half to death, and also knew why. Wringing the wet clothes out, she imagined someone else's neck between her hands as she twisted, her teeth gritted in glee as she pictured a certain Indian Princess turning an interesting shade of green as Wendy choked the life out of her. Releasing the tortured cloth, Wendy huffed, a smile crooking the corner of her pleasingly plump lips. She remembered being jealous of Tiger Lily on her previous visit, her easy camaraderie with Peter born of years of knowing each other. It was only the offhand way that Peter behaved around the Indian girl that stopped Wendy wanting to scratch the girls admittedly beautiful brown eyes out. After hearing from the boy himself how Tiger Lily had been making the moves on him, Wendy felt a fierce urge to do something violent to the Indian girl, to impress upon her that Peter belonged to Wendy and no other, certainly no cow-eyed squaw. Finding her hands gripped unnecessarily tightly around the remains of her negligee, Wendy relaxed and shook the abused fabric out, noting with dismay the wrinkles from the harsh squeezing.

"Oh drat....it'll take forever for those to drop out."

Gathering up her damp laundry, she walked over to a convenient tree with branches low enough to hang her clothes from. Draping them over the foliage, she started to hum to herself, lulled by the peace of the meadow and the warmth of the morning sun. Her previously agitated nerves released their murderous intentions.

"Wendy?"

She shrieked and jumped several inches, spinning around with her hand pressed to her throat to find Peter right behind her, his face registering his shock at her reaction.

"Sorry...I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Oh Peter....good grief, you shouldn't sneak up on a body like that."

"I didn't sneak....you just didn't hear me."

Gathering her shattered composure around her, Wendy smiled at his hurt tone, noting that he was looking none the worse for his bump on the head. In his arms were a selection of exotic looking fruit. Seeing her interested look, he grinned crookedly and held the colourful bundle out for her inspection.

"I brought breakfast."

Finding that her heart wasn't about to jump right out of her chest, Wendy selected one of the bounty and bit into it with relish.

Suddenly conscious of her disheveled state, Wendy attempted to tame her disordered hair while tugging at her crumpled night dress.

"Why didn't you wake me this morning?"

Peter blushed, shrugging nonchalantly. "I needed to.....I was....um..."

Wendy smiled. "Let's get this back to the cabin. I don't suppose you thought to get some more clothes for me?" She held out the sides of her nightgown and smiled ruefully.

"Well, actually......" Peter grinned back at her surprised look. "They're back at the cabin....come on."

With the fruit clasped in one arm, Peter took her hand and tugged her towards the hidden house, Wendy tripping along behind him, eager to see what he'd found for her.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Smee chivied the crew as they manfully worked to clean the decks and put the ship back into a seaworthy state before the noon deadline. They had all been at it since the unlooked for return of their Captain in the dead of night. The man himself was still in his cabin, having partaken of a sizable breakfast before allowing Smee to shave him. Now it was mid-morning and Smee was fairly sure that all would be ready for the inspection.

"Shine that bell 'till you can see your ugly mug in it Billy!"

"Right you are Mister Smee sir.....we'll be able to eat our dinner off the deck before too long!"

"Let's hope so Billy....." Smee tugged at the kerchief around his neck, imagining the rope if everything wasn't ready.

A flock of gulls flew over head, crying and screeching. One had the temerity to splatter its droppings on the just-washed planks, inviting a flurry of sailors to mop up the mess in record time. Pulling out a large spotted handkerchief, Smee mopped his forehead while shaking his fist at the departing birds.

In his cabin, Hook listened to his crew working diligently around the ship. He sniffed delicately, still finding the faint aroma of seaweed permeating his person, despite employing a gallon of cologne in his bath to kill the smell. Twitching a fall of lace back into position, Hook surveyed his cabin, taking pleasure in having his things around him once more. When Smee had asked him where he'd been for the last couple of years, Hook had been unable to answer his first mate. All he could clearly remember was the sound of the children chanting (Old, alone, done for) and the sight of the lone figure on the spar watching him fall to his doom, the sudden blackness as the crocodiles jaws snapped shut around him. After that his memory was a blank before he awoke, back aboard his ship in the dead of night, encased in slimy, cold seaweed.

During his lengthy soak in the tub, he'd carefully inspected his body for any signs of injury, but apart from his usual and well cataloged collection of scars from past battles, there was nothing new to find.

Lifting his ingeniously designed double cigar holder to his lips, Hook drew the smoke deeply into his lungs, the sharp tang bringing a smile to his mouth before he blew it out in a blue cloud to wreath around his head. With his feet propped up on his desk, his person once more presentable and a fine cigar to puff upon, James Hook felt as if all was once more well in his world. Now if he could just find that scurvy flying brat and rid Neverland of the cocky boy, his hearts desire would be fulfilled. Wrapped up in his pleasant fantasy involving having his hook about the throat of Peter Pan, Hook barely heard the timid knock at his cabin door. Knocking the ash off his cigars, Hook bade the petitioner to enter.

"Ready for your inspection Capt'n." Smee saluted smartly, pulling his ample gut in and sticking his chest out.

"Thank you Smee....assemble the crew, I'll be right out."

Lifting his elegantly shod feet from the edge of his desk, Hook rose to his feet and sauntered towards his cabin door. With a final peek to check his sartorial elegance in the small mirror placed on the wall beside the entrance for just that purpose, Hook twitched slightly at the lush fall of lace at his throat before clamping his cigar holder tightly between his teeth and yanking open the cabin door.

He heard Smee blow the bosun's whistle as he slowly climbed the few stairs up to the main deck, his crew lined up on either side of the deck standing at attention, ready for his inspection. The deck gleamed with spit and polish, the woodwork shining with lustre in the midday sun. The sails were trimmed neatly, the rigging tidied away, all loose flotsam secured. The flag at the head of the mast flapped in the stiffening breeze, the grinning skull leering down at the ships company as her Captain checked both deck and crewman.

Swinging around on his highly polished heel, Hook took his cigar holder out of his mouth and grinned smugly. Smee hovered at his elbow, all but wringing his hands.

"Excellent work Mister Smee....excellent. A ship worthy of her Captain. A measure of rum for you all."

A loud cheer rose from the mens throats as Hook basked in their relief at garnering his good humour. After a few moments, Hook held up his hand and asked for silence.

"Sailors of the Jolly Roger, enjoy your rum, for we sail in an hour. Now that I am back, our objective remains the same. If any of you have information pertaining to the whereabouts of Peter Pan, you may give it to Mister Smee. I have vowed to bring the Pan down, and down he will go, along with anyone who stands in my way!"

Again the crew cheered, slightly less enthusiastically, but no-one wanted to feel the Captains anger, so they faked what they couldn't feel. None wanted to question Hook, some even glad to see a return to their former ordered lives. Certainly none had any love lost for Peter Pan since their previous encounter, despite the cordiality of life since Peter had returned the ship to them. Now it looked as it life was about to pick up where it was left off when Hook had been eaten by the crocodile, and woe to anyone foolish enough to gainsay the inevitable outcome.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Chapter: The Fifth - Back to the Smut


Wendy plays dress-up, Peter gets to be heroic and Hook plots....something, but can't quite pull is off.


oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Peter sat cross legged on a tree stump, happily munching on a piece of fruit while he waited for Wendy to appear. He was still glowing from the very thorough thimbling Wendy had bestowed on him for bringing one of the chests from his former hideout, its contents now covering every available surface inside the house.

As he sat in the sun, waiting for he knew-not-what, he thought about the nights events, his brow creasing in a scowl as he considered what revenge he'd take on his naughty fairy friend and her accomplis, the princess Tiger Lily. Tossing the rind of fruit over his shoulder, Peter drew his pan pipes out of his shirt and put them to his lips. He blew a sweet tune, his eyes closing as the melody grew, wafting over the flowers and winding through the branches of the trees around him.

He sat there, engrossed in his playing until the last note, his eyes remaining shut even when that note died on a breeze. A sharp sound made his eyes pop open to see Wendy standing in the doorway of the house applauding, her mouth stretched wide in a smile.

"Oh that was beautiful Peter, simply beautiful, I never knew you were such a musician."

"What's a musician?"

Wendy's clapping faltered. "It's someone who plays a musical instrument, in your case, very well."

Peter shrugged, tucking the pipes back inside his shirt. Looking up again, Peter's eyes widened as he took in what Wendy was wearing.

Seeing his appreciative gaze, Wendy stepped into the sunshine and twirled for his inspection.

"Was that in the trunk?" Peter asked, having taken no notice of what clothes he brought, only that there were clothes of some sort in the metal bound chest. Wendy giggled.

"Of course silly, I couldn't have fitted this in my old carpet bag."

She twirled again, the skirts swinging out and up to reveal her slim legs, bare feet dancing on the ground. "Do you like it?"

"It's very......nice."

Wendy stopped, frowning slightly as she inspected the garment for faults. She had chosen it because of its colour, the blue a shade darker than her eyes. It was no more practical for a life on an island than her almost ruined nighty, but this dress was a bit more substantial and slightly less revealing. "Only nice?"

"Well, I did say it was very nice.....I like the colour, reminds me of something..."

Wendy smiled again, not entirely pleased with his faint praise, but happy that he seemed to like it. "Remind's you of what?"

As she drew closer, she batted her lashes to garner his attention to her eyes. Peter winced slightly before scrambling to his feet as Wendy stepped up to him.

"Um....reminds me......of....."

"Yes?" Wendy purred, fixing her gaze on his own slightly panicky sea-green one, her tongue tip darting out to wet her lips, instantly drawing Peter's eyes to that tiny movement.

Peter had a sudden urge to flee, his breath heaving in his chest, his eyes not knowing where to look, darting between Wendy's moist lips, to her barely contained cleavage back to her wide blue eyes. Suddenly he knew the right answer.

"Your eyes, the colour reminds me of...your eyes." He announced triumphantly.

A breathy sigh was the welcome acknowledgement that he'd got the answer perfectly right.

"Oh Peter.......you do pay the most perfectly lovely complements."

Not giving him a chance to draw breath, Wendy wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged his mouth to hers, his initial hesitation melting in the heat of the embrace. His arms enfolded her against him as they locked lips, heart beats racing against each other, deafening them to anything outside the kiss.

Which is why they never noticed the small party of pirates, headed by the redoubtable Captain Hook, appear at the edge of the glade.

Hook couldn't believe his luck. There in front of him, if he wasn't mistaken, stood the object of his search clutching a young woman to him in a passionate embrace. Taking advantage of their situation, Hook signaled for his men to silently surround the couple. Sneaking up to within a few feet, Hook carefully drew his sword. Grinning he watched for a few seconds more before extending his arm and lightly tapping the young man on the shoulder.

"Ahem......!!" Hook coughed politely against the shiny curve of his hook, smiling smugly as the couple stopped their kiss, both head's turning to stare in horror at the blade now pointed at Peter's throat. The girl let go a muffled scream and clutched Peter even closer, her eyes wide, moist pink lips gaping in shock.

"Why Peter....how easy you made it for me. I expected to have to quarter the island looking for you, and here you are, hardly a stones throw from where we're berthed, having your wicked way with this delightful young lady. What would your Wendy say if she knew?"

"She'd say, aren't you supposed to be dead!" The young woman retorted tartly.

Hook stared at the girl, his eyes flicking over her face and body, his eyes widening as he suddenly recognized her.

"Wendy......Darling," He drawled, "As I live and breath....it is you." Hook chuckled, the sword point never wavering from Peter's throat. "And here I thought you were a well brought up young lady, but no, I remember, you wanted to be a pirate, didn't you? So, not so genteel after all....eh Red Handed Jill?" He leered again. "Enjoying pillaging, are you?"

Wendy glared at him, her eyes smouldering.

"You were swallowed by the crocodile, how can you be here?" Wendy asked.

"What does that matter.....I'm here, he's here," He pressed the point of his sword a bit harder against Peter's skin, causing the boy to tilt his head back to avoid being spitted on the blade. "And now you're here. The rest is just details. But enough chit-chat....be so kind as to release your grip on your lothario and step back."

Peter and Wendy locked gazes briefly, Wendy stepping away from Peter, her hand staying clasped in his, keeping them connected.

Hook rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue. "Come now....enough of this, step back and let the boy die like a.....er....boy!"

Wendy swung around to face the pirate Captain, her wide blue eyes instantly welling with tears. Clasping her hands to her ample bosom, she let her bottom lip quiver pathetically while a fat droplet rolled its way down her smooth cheek.

"Please, oh please don't kill him......I've been waiting years for Peter to finally come back to me and bring me to Neverland...we've only been here a day or so, and last night...well, never mind...but it's not fair....we haven't even...um....you know.....you can't kill Peter....you just can't!"

Hook appeared mesmerized by Wendy's tears, his stare fixed as another droplet snaked its way down her face and plopped onto the bodice of her dress leaving a round stain. Sensing a captive audience, Wendy decided to play the scene for all its worth. Clapping the back of her hand to her forehead, she tilted her head back and moaned piteously. "Oh please don't take him from me...." She swallowed audible. "I.....love him!"

Falling to her knees, her bosom heaving, she clasped the hem of Hook's coat with trembling fingers. Gazing up at him, she pulled out all the stops with her full lips quivering, droplets sparkling on her long lashes surrounding her tear drenched blue eyes, head thrown back to expose her pale throat.

It was too much for even the most hardhearted of the pirates. Hook's blade dropped, some of his crew sniffing appreciatively, one blowing noisily into a grubby hanky. With their attention all on Wendy, Peter took a careful step back, no longer threatened by Hook's blade. The rest of the pirates gathered around Hook and Wendy, several wiping tears from the corner of their eyes, overcome by her affecting performance, no longer watching Peter.

Unnoticed, the Pan rose silently into the air, above the drama being played out below, his lips curled in a rueful smile at Wendy's many distracting talents. There wasn't much time before the pirates noticed his absence, so Peter looked about for anything to use for a weapon. A faint chattering caught his attention and he put his fingers to his lips in an almost silent whistle. The chattering got louder as a troop of monkeys approached through the tree tops. Peter grinned as the monkeys leader approached him. After a quick, largely silent conversation between the two, the monkeys spread themselves among the trees above where the pirates and their Captain still stood watching Wendy weeping, still on her knees, piteously begging for Peter's life. At a signal from Peter the monkeys launched themselves at the pirates, leaping onto the mens heads and shoulders, screaming like banshees and pulling whatever they could find to grab onto, whether it be hair or whiskers or skin. While his allies distracted the pirates, Peter dove down to attack Hook. The glade erupted into a battle, the screams of the monkeys unnerving more than one of the pirates who took off into the trees with several brown furry bodies yanking his hair and pinching his flesh. Those that remained were milling in confusion, the monkeys leaping from body to body, scratching and biting, the pirates trying to swat the animals like furry mosquitoes with little success.

Hook still had his sword but a flying monkey knocked it from his grasp just as Peter flew down and kicked Hook's feet from under him. Wendy had scrambled away, her fingers finding and holding onto the hilt of the rapier as she watched pandemonium break out. Peter landed lightly on the ground between Wendy and Hook.

"Peter!" Wendy held out the sword which Peter took with a quick grin before his expression turned serious, the blade now pointed at Hook's chest as the battle quickly ended, the monkeys fleeing unscathed, unlike their victims, to the trees and safety.

"Tell your men to return to the ship!"

"Dang and blast it!" Hook snarled, his men advancing. Peter pressed the sword a little harder, the point slicing through Hook's shirt to expose his chest hair and a tiny bead of blood.

Gulping, Hook swung his head around and barked at his men. "Back, you useless bunch of swabs...back I say!"

As his men duly followed his orders, Peter indicated for Hook to move to the side. Wendy had risen to her feet and stood close behind Peter, her hands brushing the dust and twigs from her skirts. Hook watched her balefully.

"A very affecting performance, Miss Darling....a rival for Missus Seddon if ever I saw one. Had us all fooled."

Wendy dimpled and bobbed a curtsy in acknowledgment of his praise.

"Thank you Captain Hook.....I do my best, in trying circumstances."

Peter had Hook position himself with his hand behind him, his back against a tree. Peter pointed to one of the crewmen.

"You.....tie his hands, run the rope around the tree, and make it tight!"

Hook glared as the shaking sailor followed Peter's instructions to the letter. With Hook secured, Peter lowered his blade.

"We'll leave you now.....to think on the folly of trying to capture Peter Pan!" Throwing back his head, Peter crowed, the cry echoing around the glade. Hook winced and glowered, his lips twisted in a grimace as he tested the rope.

"I'll get you next time Pan....this island isn't big enough to hide you for long!"

"Good bye Captain....until we meet again." Cocking a salute, Peter turned to Wendy and grasped her hand, pulling her into his side. With a flick of his wrist, Peter slashed a quick figure over Hooks shirt front. Wendy gasped, then laughed. Peter had carved his initials in Hook's silk shirt, the edges gaping to expose Hook's pale skin beneath.

"Later Hook..." Peter launched himself and Wendy into the air, flying out of reach and out of sight of the pirates in a matter of moments.

Hook immediately screamed at his men to release him, the sailors rushing to be the first to free the irate Pirate Captain.

Shaking his freed fist at the sky, Hook bent and retrieved his sword from the grass. "I'll get you yet, Peter Pan....and your doxy with you...you can't hide from Captain Hook forever!!"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter didn't fly that far from the glade, depositing himself and Wendy on the broad branch of a huge tree. As soon as they landed, Wendy threw her arms about Peter and hugged him.

"Oh you were wonderful Peter....so brave and strong and clever."

Peter preened, a smug smile painting his lips as he basked in Wendy's adoration. "I was rather good, wasn't I?"

"You were magnificent." Wendy sighed and burrowed into his shirt.

"You did pretty well yourself..." Peter returned the compliment, his arms wrapped happily around his Wendy. "That was some performance, with tears and everything."

Wendy blushed and simpered. "I was rather good, wasn't I? It always worked on Father, so I thought it might just work on the pirates too...I was right." She giggled.

They stood clasped to one another in bliss, hearts still racing from their close call.

"Peter? Where has Hook come from.....I'm sure you said he'd been dead all this time."

"I don't know....he was dead....as dead as being eaten by a crocodile can make you. I'll have to ask around, see if anyone knows something."

"Hmmmmm....Peter?...Hook knows where the cabin is....we'll have to find somewhere else to live....and my clothes!"

"No problem.......I have a dozen secret hideouts scattered around the island." Peter bragged. "As soon as the pirates have gone back to their ship, we'll go back and pack what we can and find a new home."

"Oh.....good." Wendy snuggled for a moment longer before lifting her head. "I think you deserve a thimble for being my hero."

Peter grinned down as her smiling face.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

As the party of defeated pirates made their way back to the Jolly Roger, Peter and Wendy clasped each other in their arms and thimbled one another thoroughly until they were both breathless and very, very pink.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Chapter: The Sixth - Alone At Last.
Rating: Major R.


Wendy gets a new home, Peter becomes "a Man" and Hook, well he's up to no good as usual.
Major smut and naughtiness warning. Nothing pornographically explicit, but everything implied.


oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


With the day drawing to a close, Peter flew with Wendy over the verdant flanks of the dormant volcano that dominated the center of the island. They were taking a last fly about Neverland after a long afternoon spent ferrying Wendy's belongings to their new home. Peter's brag that he had a home in every forest, wasn't far from the truth. Having lived on the island longer than he cared to remember, Peter had created a vast number of hidey-holes and safe-havens in which to stash booty or just as playhouses for innumerable games. Some were completely useless as a home because of their state of either decay or ruin. Others were discarded because they were too small or were damp. In the end, Wendy settled for a large hollowed out tree, not as large as the original tree that Peter had used when the Lost Boys had lived with him, but large and airy enough for Wendy's needs. It was well hidden amongst a stand of ancient looking trees, its entrances disguised by sweetly scented bushes and vines. It was very remote with a supply of sweet mountain water nearby and unlikely to be found by Hook anytime soon. It also had views to die for from the top branches that were wide enough to walk along and towered over its neighbours. Wendy was well satisfied.

With their new home decided upon, Peter quickly carried the trunk and Wendy's carpet bag, along with the bed furs, back to the tree. Wendy decided to call it her Wishing Tree because she couldn't have wished for a snugger or more private cosy nest if she'd designed it that way. The only draw back was its proximity to the Indian camp, but Peter assured her that they were quite oblivious to the Wishing Tree's existence, as Peter had used it at one time as a base while negotiations were going one for the release of his troop of Lost Boys, as was the way of things on Neverland. Sometimes the boys captured the Indians, sometimes the Indians captured the boys. It was a glorious game with few casualties except the occasional bump and bruise which were shown off as badges of great bravery by both sides.

Despite all that, Peter assured Wendy that none of the Indian's, and especially not Tiger Lily, had ever found Peter when he'd used the Wishing Tree as his hideout. Of course, he didn't tell her that Tinkerbell knew of its location, as she did all Peter's hiding places, and that in all likelihood the naughty fairy would find them eventually, if just by the process of elimination. But Peter being who he was, dismissed that problem as of little importance.

Wendy quickly set about putting the house to rights. She found a small but quite cosy bedroom carved out to one side with a wooden sleeping bench, quite wide enough for two which was quickly covered with the sleeping furs and cushions. Next door was a room where she could hang some of her clothes on roots poking through the soil to act as hooks. The main room had its own set of table and chairs, as well as low benches around the walls and a large fireplace dug into one dirt wall, the chimney venting well away from the tree to dispel the smoke.

In all she thought it was quite nice.

She had sent Peter to fill the water butt for their day to day needs, as well as find them something for supper, while she tidied the place and sorted out what they'd need in the way of candles and clean surfaces. She'd found an old sack dress in the trunk and was happily flapping a duster around, not worried that the dress quickly showed signs of her industry with smuts around its hem and sleeves. She swept the floor, careful not to raise too much of a dust, pushing the pile of frass and waste to one side for disposal later on. After that she scrubbed the table and found, and cleaned, the odd collection of eating and cooking utensils stored in a chest by the fire. By the time Peter had finished filling the water butt and arrived back with his arms full of a variety of fruit, Wendy was satisfied the place was livable and completely free of any creepy crawlies and furry livestock.

Using some of the water, she filled a kettle and hung it over the crackling fire to warm, before turning to Peter.

"Goodness, I'm ravenous!" She exclaimed, licking her lips at the array of delicacies set out on the table. Peter wiped his hands down his trouser leg and reached for a juicy looking fruit.

"Oh no....we much wash first...you can't eat with dirty hands!"

With his hand frozen in space, Peter looked up at Wendy.

"But...but..."

"Hands Peter....." Wendy held out a small rag to be used as a towel and pointed to the bucket waiting for just that use. Sighing, Peter did as she bid, washing his face at the same time. Wendy did the same once he'd finished, then joined him at the table. They ate companionably, darting glances at each other, exchanging smiles across the table, fingers touching when they reached for the same fruit. Both were enjoying the flirting, Peter waggling his eyebrows, Wendy batting her lashes and blushing, both giggling over their meal like children.

Eventually there was nothing left to consume, the table littered with pips and rinds and splattered juice. Wendy looked down at her dress and frowned at the stains liberally marking the bodice. Her hands were sticky as well as her face.

"I need a bath."

Peter instantly perked up, his body feeling electrified. "A bath?"

"Yes, a bath....I'm dusty and sticky and I'm not going to bed like this."

"There is a small pool, not as big as the pond, but it should be enough to wash in, if you want me to show you?"

"Oh yes Peter, please......I'll get the soap and a clean dress."

Peter grinned inanely as Wendy bustled out of the room. He wanted to crow and fly, his anticipation growing out of all proportion to the simple act of taking a bath. He felt almost giddy, as if all the blood in his head had just headed south. Which, in all probability, it had.

Wendy appeared, still wearing her dirty dress, but holding another over her arm along with a small drawstring bag to hold the soap and a square of fabric to use for a towel. She smiled coyly at Peter who leaped up to join her.

"It'll be dark soon, do we need to take a candle to light the way?"

"Oh no....you won't need a light....take my hand, I'd know the way even if I was blindfolded."

"I might just make you prove that!" Wendy laughed, her step light as they left through the tunnel and found themselves outside in the dusk of early evening, the sky already spangled with stars. Peter led her through the surrounding shrubbery along a faintly discernible path, holding back any branches that looked like they might catch her, his care giving her a warm feeling in her heart. After a few minutes they arrived at the bank of the stream, its gurgling passage sounding loud over the night insects humming among the branches. Peter carried on walking along the bank, her hand still held firmly in his, his teeth flashing in the darkness as he turned to check on her every few seconds. Soon the stream started to widen and a small pool appeared, its surface dark and mysterious, only the faint ripple of current disturbing its depths. By now it was almost full dark with only the faintest light coming from the sky and stars, but enough for Wendy to see what she was doing.

"Peter...turn around please." Wendy asked, reaching around the back to undo the buttons on her dress.

"No."

Peter's emphatic reply sent heat coursing through her. Her fingers faltered as she stared back at him, only the gleam of his eyes and the white of his teeth visible in the gloom.

"Oh."

"I want to see you Wendy....all of you...."

"Oh."

Blushing, despite all her previous designs to seduce Peter, it was now he who was seducing her, and it sent shivers of delight all over her.

Peter slowly moved around her, pushing her fingers away from the back of the dress, his own taking over the task of releasing the buttons down the length of her spine until the dress hung loosely off her shoulders. Pushing apart the material, Peter pressed his warm lips to the skin between her shoulder blades.

"Oooooooooh." Wendy gasped, her head dropping forward as his lips crept up to nuzzle at the nape of her neck after pushing her hair out of the way.

"All of you..." Peter said again, this time in a whisper that sent skitters of heat down to her curling toes. Relaxing her arms, Wendy allowed Peter to push the dress from her shoulders so that the bodice fell to her waist, baring her back completely. Peter hands lightly skimmed over her shoulders and arms down to her waist.

"You feel so soft."

Breathing heavily, Wendy stood still as Peter marked her back with small kisses as light as a butterfly, all the way down to her waistline. Undoing the last three buttons, Peter pushed the dress over her hips so that is fell to her ankles in a pool of material, leaving her naked to the night.

Wendy held her breath, her body quivering as she felt his eyes trace their way down her back, over the swell of her hips and buttocks, down her legs and back up again. She heard the rustle of fabric and waited expectantly.

"Wendy?"

"Yes Peter...."

"Turn around..."

Slowly, her head downcast, Wendy complied with his request. As she suspected, Peter had shed his own clothes and now stood as naked as she. His body, so different from hers, was all shadows and silver highlights, his eyes gleaming as he also stared at the contours and shadows that gently displayed her beauty to his wondering eyes.

For a long moment they stayed there, a foot apart, just drinking in the beauty of the other. Slowly, Wendy reached up and flipped her long hair out of the way and back over her shoulder. As if galvanized by that simple act, Peter stepped forward and took her in his arms, his warmth meeting her cool flesh like a flame, their mouths fusing in a kiss that took both their breaths away. Like two jigsaw puzzles they fitted together perfectly, her curves to his hard planes, her arms holding him close to her, exciting him further as they moved together.

Sticky hands and dusty hair were forgotten in the rush to complete what had been started, both sinking to the mossy ground in a tangle of legs and arms, mouths not parting as softness met hardness and one enveloped the other. Soon the river bank was mute witness to the consummation of a promise made many years before, now fulfilled with soft moans and sharp cries as two became one under the starry sky.

All too soon the heady rush was over and they lay, still entwined, panting and gasping, boneless and incredulous, in the aftermath.

Peter raised his head, looking down at Wendy laying beneath him. Her eyes were closed, but her lips were parted, drawing in panting breaths as if she'd been running.

"Wendy?"

"Hmmmmmm?"

"Is it supposed to be like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like...like...burning in an inferno and then suddenly plunging into the sea only to be pulled apart by the stars!"

Wendy chuckled. "Yes Peter....it's how the poets always describe it, but I didn't know myself until a few minutes ago how right they were."

"I didn't hurt you did I? You were crying out like you were in pain."

"No...I wasn't in pain...although I suppose I should have been. I think you burnt all the pain away."

"Oh......good." He kissed her throat where a pulse beat strongly. "Do you feel like burning again?"

Wendy opened her eyes and stared up at his face. She could only faintly make out his features, his head surrounded by stars, his warmth surrounding her, in her, everywhere he touched her.

"I love you Peter........I think I always have, even before you came to the nursery window all that long time ago."

"Is this really love Wendy? I mean, true love, the one and only kind of love......"

"You mean, happily ever after love?" Wendy sighed. "Yes Peter...this is that kind of love."

He shifted slightly, his body still fitted to hers, and now evidently quite ready for another bout of lovemaking under the stars.

"Is there more to this?" Peter started to move his hips slowly, heat springing to life at every point of contact between them.

"Much, much more..." Wendy murmured, her legs wrapping around his as she moved to his rhythm.

"Show me."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Wendy couldn't stop smiling. Her cheeks ached from the almost permanent smile plastered across her face. Other parts of her also ached, but then she'd never had occasion to use those particular muscles before so it wasn't entirely surprising if they twinged in protest at their overuse in the past few days.

Since their initiation into the rites of love on the banks of the stream, Wendy and Peter hadn't been apart for more than an hour at a time. Each time they came together it provoked another bout of bone-melting lovemaking, Peter's desire for her almost as insatiable as her desire for him. Their young bodies had responded to that desire with unbridled ardor. It didn't matter whether it was day or night, they simple couldn't get enough of each other. It had almost become pointless to wear any clothes, as no sooner had they apparently exhausted themselves and got dressed to carry out some necessary chore than they found themselves drawn together and shedding their recently donned apparel once more and indulging in another bout among the furs.

For a brief time the outside world ceased to exist, the universe containing only them and their immediate surroundings. Stifling a yawn, Wendy poked at the fire to ginger up the embers before hanging a fresh pot of water over the flames. Straightening up, she rested a hand against her back to ease a faint twinge before heading off for the bedroom for a well earned rest. Peter was off getting supplies, having exhausted the bounty of the wood surrounding their tree, he had to go further everyday to fill their tiny larder. Wendy had also suggested that meat would be welcome, either fish or fowl, to supplement their diet. Having sent him off with a kiss and a wave, she set too, tidying up the few belongings scattered over the floor after their morning tumble on the breakfast table. Wendy smiled as she remembered Peter's ardent kisses and heated embrace, her own body wet and willing to receive his hard eagerness into her softness.

Smiling to herself, Wendy entered the small bedroom and flopped down on the covers, asleep before her head touched the heaped pillows.

Arriving back home an hour later, Peter dumped his brace of Guinea fowl and fruit on the cleared table before going in search of Wendy. Finding her fast asleep on the furs, he stripped off and joined her, snuggling up to her soft warmth, still encased in her rumpled dress, his body responding to her nearness even as his eyes slid shut in welcome sleep.

Outside the tree, Tinkerbell sat down on a soft leaf and cradled her chin in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. She'd been looking for Peter for the past few days, having heard about the run in with Hook and his pirates from the troop of monkeys. It had been sheer luck that she'd spotted Peter checking one of his traps in the forest, his whoop of success catching her ear as she flitted through the trees after checking one of his multitudinous hide outs. She'd been very careful not to alert Peter to her presence, keeping him in view but herself hidden. Finding herself getting closer to the Indian village she guessed where he was headed, having it confirmed when Peter arrived at the huge oak and disappeared inside. Not at all sure of her reception, Tink sat outside. This particular tree was one of the hardest to spy on, having no outside windows, only scattered ventilation holes to let in air and sunshine, the entrance well hidden and secure.

She waited an hour before attempting to enter. Squeezing herself into one of the narrow shafts that dotted the trunk, Tink silently entered the tree. She kept her glow low as she entered the hollowed out trunk. Finding the main room empty, she darted across the ceiling to the fireplace, the kettle hanging over the flames letting out streamers of steam as it bubbled merrily. Hearing a soft snore, Tink flittered to the alcove against the back wall and hovered in the doorway. A candle burned in a niche and clearly illuminated the pair on the bed. Tink's shoulders drooped as she took in the entwined arms and legs, Peter's naked back gleaming in the candlelight, Wendy's hair like liquid gold where it spread on the pillows.

Both were sound asleep, unable to keep their hands off each other even in sleep. Tink silently entered the bedroom and hovered over the couch, careful to not wake the lovers.

"Oh Peter.....I am too late.....you are lost to me now!"

A fat tear rolled down her tiny cheek and she darted back, so as to keep the tear from splashing on Peter's face and waking him. Sniffing and wiping her eyes, Tink swooped down and pressed her lips to Peter's cheek before darting up and away and out of the tree.

Peter heard the faint tinkling noise as if from a great distance, the light pressure on his cheek not enough to drag him from the comfortable depths of slumber. Shifting, he rolled further onto his side, his leg positioned possessively between Wendy's, his arm looped around her waist.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Hook paced his cabin with poorly concealed ill-humour. He still smarted from the ease with which the infuriating flying brat had overcome him and his men. In retaliation to the smirks he knew were directed at his back, Hook ordered the ship to be scrubbed again from top to bottom. The grumbling from the crew ceased abruptly when Hook tossed one careless sailor over the side to the sharks below.

Now he had a spotless ship and a subdued crew but still no amelioration of his lacerated pride.

And to top it off, he'd nicked himself shaving that morning.

He couldn't even blame it on Smee. He'd been shooed from the Captain's Cabin to allow Hook some time to brood and to shave himself. Unfortunately, Hook had been distracted by the remembrance of Peter's cocky smirk and the blade slipped, nicking his chin and ruining his neck cloth with spots of blood. Ripping the inoffensive rag from around his neck, Hook unleashed his bad temper on his cabin, wreaking havoc on any inanimate object that caught his eye. Now the room wasn't fit to live in, and there was no-one to blame but himself. Which, naturally enough, put him in an even fouler mood than he's was already in.

Scowling horribly, he slammed open his cabin door to find Smee, with his fist upraised to knock, cowering on the other side.

"What de ye want, ya sniveling slug belly?"

"Oh....er...um...I...er.....um.....wondered....oh dear....um..."

Impatient with his bosun's dithering speech, Hook threaded his metal appendage through Smee's neckchief and lifted the poor man upwards so that his toes barely supported his weight.

"Enough sniveling Smee........we're going ashore."

"Oh right....yes, right you are Capt'n....ashore....a picnic is it?"

"No....not a picnic.....we go ashore to hunt Pan!"

"Yes...of course, silly me not to realise that. So...um...the ebony or the ivory pistols this time?"

"Both.....I want the crew fully armed with pistol and sword. And bring a net, I don't want to miss an opportunity if it presents itself."

"Righty ho then......um.....could you....er....put me down?"

Immediately Smee found himself on the deck, his legs giving way to deposit him on his broad backside.

"I want to be on-shore within the hour Mister Smee."

"As you wish, Capt'n. An hour it 'tis."

Hook watched his portly first mate pull out a whistle and blow on it three time before scampering up the stairs to the poop-deck to marshall the crew. Ducking back into his ruined cabin, Hook opened the wooden case that held his selection of hooks. He exchanged his single hook for the double bladed one, the satisfying click of the new hook snicking into place soothing some of his anger. He would be prepared this time for any tricks Pan or his Wendy tried to play, and he wouldn't be fooled by that pretty face either.

Feeling a surge of energy course through his body, Hook snagged his hat from the back of his chair and swaggered out of the cabin and up onto the deck, his crewmen rushing hither and thither as they prepared to disembark. Hook stood among the maelstrom, his eyes staring at the not-to-distant shoreline, his thoughts consumed with entertaining variations on a theme in regards to capturing Peter Pan, the why's, wherefore's and satisfying conclusion to the forthcoming hunt.

"Not long now, Peter Pan...I'll have you both as my....guests! Then we'll see who is the one to crow!"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Chapter: The Seventh - Neverberries and Noses
Rating: PG


ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Tiger Lily pushed back the branch and watched with narrowed eyes as the figure of the Wendy Lady skipped down the narrow path, a basket swinging in her hand. The Indian princess had, like Tinkerbell, been looking for Peter and Wendy's new hideout, not necessarily to make more mischief, but maybe to find out what the Wendy girl had, that the princess hadn't. It irked Lily that she'd had failed to illicit any feeling beyond friendship from Peter Pan, having grown up to idolise the boy all her life, she had woven fantasy that centered on him and her and a life spent together, but that had all been shattered when Peter had returned to Neverland with the Wendy Lady in tow for the second time.

Part of her ire had been whipped into a frenzy by the fairy's own fear and rage at losing her long-time companion to the newcomer, and Tiger Lily sympathised with Tink's plight, making her a willing accomplis to any mischief suggested in the heat of the moment.

Now she realised the futility of their efforts to drive the girl away. In point of fact, it had driven Peter and Wendy closer together.

The object of her scrutiny had disappeared from Tiger Lily's view, but the Indian girl knew where she was going. Slipping down from her hiding place, she jogged along the trail until she saw the flash of Wendy's dress further ahead. Cutting off to the side, she crouched down and ran across the carpet of dead leaves until she reached the edge of a clearing. There Wendy had placed her basket on the ground and was humming to herself as she picked the fruit from the laden bushes crowding under the trees.

Neverberries were a sweet and juicy fruit, much favored by the Indian's themselves, this grove a popular destinations when the bright blue fruits were in season. Wendy was humming to herself as she delicately picked the fruit from their stalks, every third or fourth juicy fruit making its way between her lips, leaving behind a sticky smear until she looked like she was wearing alarmingly hued blue lipstick.

Tiger Lily watched her for a few moments, her own mouth watering with the thought of eating some of the ripe berries. She must have made a sound because Wendy suddenly paused in her picking, her head turning to stare at the bushes hiding the Indian girl.

"There's plenty for everyone......"

Feeling a little silly to be crouching in the bushes, Lily rose gracefully to her feet, smoothing her fringed skirt over her hips as she straightened.

"Oh....Princess Tiger Lily....how nice to see you again...it's been awhile."

"A very long while, Wendy Lady, I had heard you were back in Neverland."

"I suppose Tinkerbell told you....I haven't seen her since I arrived...is she still here?"

"Oh yes.....Tinkerbell is most certainly..um..around."

Wendy turned back to the Neverberry bushes, plucking several off as Tiger Lily drew closer, the Indian girls slim brown hand reaching out to pick several before cramming them in her mouth.

"Sweet aren't they?" Wendy commented, popping another between her lips.

Lily nodded her head in agreement, her dark eyes taking in Wendy's glossy hair and glowing face.

"You look very happy?" Lily said, keeping her attention on the laden bushes.

Wendy turned to look at the Indian Princess. She had no proof it was Tiger Lily that disrupted their night at the house by the pool, only her instincts and what Peter had told her about the Princess trying to kiss him.

"I am happy, Princess. What more could a girl need, a cosy home, a handsome beau, and Neverland. It's like a dream."

"Yes....I suppose it would seem like a dream." Lily agreed, popping another berry in her mouth. "Is Peter around?"

Wendy smiled to herself. "Yes....Peter is around. He's checking on Hook and his pirates. After our run in he wants to make sure they're no where near here."

"You saw Hook?"

"Saw him," snorted Wendy, "got close enough to be caught by him....but Peter saved us." Wendy's voice sounded dreamy. "He set the monkeys on Hook's men and got us away."

"I had heard that Hook had returned. He's not been to the Indian village yet." Lily cast a sideways glance at Wendy. "Aren't you afraid that Hook will try to capture you again?"

"Peter will keep us safe....he defeated Hook before, he'll do so again."

Lily grimaced at Wendy's smug assertion. Sighing, Lily flipped her long black braids over her shoulders, her fingers dipping between her lips as she licked off the sticky juice.

"Well....I have things to do....."

Wendy gave the Princess an arch look. "Things?"

Lily waved her hand in the air. "Oh you know....things. Goodbye Wendy Lady."

Wendy watched as the Princess spun on her heel, her braids flying, and sashayed out of the grove, the jungle quickly hiding her from Wendy's view.

"Things.......hmmmmmm." Returning to her task, Wendy plucked some more of the berries, popping several into her mouth before moving onto the next bush to fill her basket. Wendy had no plans to make the sticky morsels into a pie, she was more than happy to eat the fruit raw, but Peter had mentioned that Neverberries were his favourite, and she planned to smear the fruit on several strategic area's of her delectable body and let the dear boy indulge his sweet tooth to their mutual content. After filling the basket with enough berries to fill half-a-dozen pies, Wendy tripped back along the path, albeit not quite as sprightly as before when the basket was empty, and wended her way to the hollowed out tree that was her new home. By the end of her trek she was very hot, positively damp with perspiration and quite heartily sick of the smell of Neverberries, having indulged in one too many, leaving her feeling rather nauseous. Hoping that a dip in the stream might refresh her, Wendy left the basket on the table, snagged a clean dress and a towel, and tripped happily towards the sound of water.

The stream gurgled merrily, enticing Wendy to strip off and plunge in, screaming at its icy chill. The water felt heavenly, sluicing over her sticky face and rinsing the dust from her long hair. Her skin tingled in the cool water, her feet slipping on the rocks that formed the bottom of the stream bed. Happily splashing, she twirled around, her fingers trailing in the water making whirlpools. Sunlight sparkled through the leaves of the overhanging trees, blinding her for a second. When she ducked under the water, she didn't notice the figure crouching on the bank making himself comfortable beside a familiar looking basket. On surfacing she pushed the mass of her hair out of her eyes and squealed loudly.

"Peter!"

Lounging on his side, Peter Pan tossed another berry into the air, catching it deftly between his teeth before sucking it into his mouth and chewing with obvious pleasure. Waggling his eyebrows at her, he repeated the process, the berry missing his mouth and hitting him on the chin instead before bouncing down his front and onto the grass. Wendy giggled. Peter scowled and snagged another plump berry. Once more he tossed it into the air, this time concentrating, and once more he caught it effortlessly in his mouth, smiling smugly as he turned back to face Wendy.

Unable to resist his smug smile Wendy batted her eyelashes and coyly swam a little further into the stream.

"That's very clever Peter.....I'm not sure I'd be able to catch any of them."

"Of course not.......you're a girl."

"Well really...that's not a very polite thing to say...I'm sure I'd be able to catch them as easily as you...if I practiced."

"No you couldn't." Peter retorted, tossing another fruit and catching it between his teeth, biting down so that juice spurted out and splattered his chin. Wendy licked her own lips, her eyes fixed on his as he snuck out a tongue and lapped at the blue juice around his mouth.

Indignant, Wendy turned her back on him, lifting her feet to swim the short distance to the other shore, the current tugging at her hair as the water swirled around her, making her shiver. She heard a splash and twisted around, Peter was gone from the shore, his clothes piled in a heap beside the basket. Within seconds he had surfaced in front of her, tossing his head to fling the water out of his hair and eyes. Parting his lips he grinned at her, showing her a Neverberry clamped between his teeth. Wendy smiled at him a little uncertainly before leaning forward to place her chilled lips on his warm ones. Peter released the fruit and pushed it into her mouth, his tongue following, chasing the sweet berry around her mouth before withdrawing, the kiss ended before it really started. Wendy popped the fruit against her palate, the juice sliding down her throat like honey.

"Hmmmm that was nice."

Peter grinned and leant in again. Before his lips had a chance to touch hers, Wendy's foot slipped on the rocks below her and she disappeared under the water. Seconds later she surfaced, spluttering and coughing from taking a mouthful of water, her hands flailing, landing Peter a smack on the side of his head, her fingers catching in his hair and yanking hard.

"Ow!!"

Finding her feet after another ducking, Wendy scrubbed her hair out of her eyes, still coughing.

"I slipped..*hack*..blasted rocks..*cough*.."

"Wendy, let go of my hair!"

"Oh sorry....*sniffle*....*cough*....oh I feel sick....*choke*"

Peter took in Wendy's rather bedraggled appearance and pale face and tugged her towards the grassy bank. She was still coughing when he hauled her out to flop weakly onto the grass.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked, patting her half-heartedly on her shoulder, not sure what to do for the best. Wendy groaned.

"I must have swallowed half the river.......oh dear."

With an inarticulate cry Wendy pushed herself to her feet then, with a hand clapped over her mouth, she scrabbled behind a bush, sounds of retching heard clearly over the rush of the water behind them.

Peter still sat on the bank, rather stunned by the sudden shift in events, the basket of berries forgotten beside him. The sound of Wendy emptying her stomach lasted only a short time and Peter, his ardor considerably cooled, pulled on his clothes.

"Peter?" Wendy's voice called weakly to him from behind the bush.

"Are you okay now?"

"Er...I will be.....can you hand me the towel and my dress...I think I need to get dry."

"Oh....sure....do you need any help?"

"No...no Peter.....I'll manage."

Gathering up the requested items, Peter handed them to her, only her arm visible through the dense foliage. Within minutes Wendy emerged, rubbing her head with the rough towel to dry her hair, her night dress rather askew.

Peter gestured vaguely but was waved away, Wendy tottering forward before sinking onto a convenient rock, her face still alarmingly pale. Seeing the basket of berries sitting innocently on the grass, Wendy quickly looked away, her composure ruined by a particularly violent sneeze.

"Oh no..." Wendy wailed as more sneezes caused her to press her damp towel to her face to quell another that threatened to blow her nose off. "Dow I've dot a gold."

"A gold? What's that?"

Wendy looked at him blankly for a second before burying her face in the towel again as a sneeze erupted, muffled by the cloth this time.

"Not a gold, a cold. It beans I've caught a chill...drat it! My poor dose will be as red as a-a-a tomato tomorrow....oh damn and blast it!"

Slightly alarmed at the noises coming from her, as well as the strong language, Peter stayed a cautious distance away from Wendy, his expression confused. Wendy, for her part, was starting to shiver, the sudden onset of her cold making her miserable.

"I want to go home..." She croaked, her throat raw from being sick.

Peter looked startled. "Home? You mean back to London?"

Wendy scowled, the effect rather diluted when a sneeze erupted and forced her to bury her face in the towel.

"What? No....you silly ass...back to the tree."

"Oh....oh right....I'll take the basket then?"

Wendy ignored him and rose to her feet, tottering past him and heading up the path back to their hollow tree. Every few steps Wendy bent over as her nose exploded, almost rocking her on her heels. Peter followed behind, not sure what to do for the best, his brow furrowed in concern.

On reaching the tree Wendy stumbled inside and headed straight to bed, the towel discarded for a square of soft linen which she used to stem the steady flow of fluid coming from her abused nose. Moaning, she curled up on her side and burrowed into the pillows, dragging the furs over her shoulders so that she all but disappeared. Peter had followed, replacing the basket of berries on the table before coming to stand in the doorway to the bedroom, not at all sure what to do for her.

Every now and then Wendy would sneeze, the sound muffled by the covers. After a while the strange sounds decreased until Peter crept forward and found that Wendy had fallen asleep, her usually pretty mouth hanging open, her normally pert nose rather red and swollen and wet. Touching her cheek he found the skin felt very hot. Alarmed, Peter snatched his hand back and stood undecided for a second. Sickness was not something he knew how to deal with. Injuries from fights and falls were common, easily treated with poultices of moss and mud and bandages of leaves, but true illness was unknown to him. Despite that, even he could tell that Wendy was not well, her skin holding an unhealthy flush, her breathing uneven and labored. Biting his lip he watched her for a few more minutes before turning away and heading out of the tree. Leaping into the air he flew the short distance to the Indian Village, heading straight to the tepee of the medicine man.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Someone was holding a cup against her lips, the liquid inside smelling strongly of honey and cloves and something she couldn't identify. A hand held the back of her head and lifted her, tipping the cup so that some of the hot drink passed into her mouth, her sore throat swallowing the tincture before a cough made her jerk her head away. Through it all her eyes remained tightly closed, her head feeling thick and woolly as she moaned quietly, burrowing under the covers as she shivered.

Peter placed the beaker on the box beside the bed, having followed the medicine man's instructions to the letter. He'd been told that Wendy would have to let the cold run its course, the wise man advising him to keep her warm and feed her regular drinks of his herbal concoction. Peter had been assured that the illness was not fatal, only messy and noisy and that Wendy would recover in due course. The Indian had been right about the messy and the noisy, Wendy having recourse to the bucket beside the bed several times despite having nothing inside her, plus the continued eruptions and moans driving Peter to wish, rather uncharitably, that he had some ear plugs. After giving her the drink, Wendy seemed to quieten down a little, her breathing becoming easier and her poor red nose ceasing to drip continuously. Satisfied that he had done all he could, Peter grabbed a handful of the offending Neverberries and sat just outside the tree's entrance, close enough to hear Wendy if she called. The day was drawing to a close, another glorious sunset painting the sky with streamers of pink and orange. He frowned to himself as he thought about what he'd seen regarding the pirates and Captain Hook. He'd spotted the long boats pulled up on the beach and a quick check of the Jolly Roger showed only a skeleton crew manning the ship. Intrigued, he'd flown over the jungle in the direction of the tracks leading from the shore, careful to keep himself from being spotted from the ground as he searched for the pirates. He'd found them further inland than he'd expected, thinking that they had only come ashore to replenish food and water supplies. Instead he found the crew of the Jolly Roger slogging through the jungle armed to the teeth and carrying a small cannon, along with supplies that looked enough to stave off a siege. They had traveled a fair way into the island, in the general direction of his old hideout, rather than the pond clearing where Hook had found Peter and Wendy before. Peter was intrigued and watched them for some time to see what they were going to do when they reached the old tree.

Peter was startled to realise the pirates were expecting him not to be there as they made no effort to be stealthy in their approach. Instead they decided to make camp in the clearing around the old oak, Hook sitting on one of the gnarled roots as his men hurried about, getting a fire going and placing a kettle over the flames to heat. After a while Peter grew bored with watching the pirates set up their camp, no wiser as to their plan of action other than to spend the night in the jungle around his old home.

He thought he heard the sound of a fairy as he flew away lazily over the tree tops, leaving the pirates to their domesticity, but when he called none appeared and he quickly forgot the sound as he turned his attention to what he was going to do with Wendy when he got home. Just the mere thought was enough to send his blood singing through his veins, his lips curling up into a broad grin as he put on a burst of speed and fairly shot around the mountain and dove down to the grove of tree's hiding their new home. He saw smoke curling up from the Indian encampment not far away but he had only one idea, to find Wendy and make love until they couldn't see straight.

He'd rushed into the hidden tree and quickly searched the rooms, finding the basket of berries waiting for him. Snatching several of the ripe fruit he picked it up and carried it outside, having a good idea where Wendy would have gone on that hot afternoon. Whistling jauntily he'd swaggered down the path to the stream, the basket swinging by his side. As he approached the bank of their water hole he heard Wendy splashing and squealing, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he settled himself silently on the grassy bank to watch her as she frolicked in the clear water.

Shaking his head dazedly, Peter pulled himself out of his reminiscences as he heard Wendy call his name. Jumping to his feet he hurried through the underground rooms to her side to find her blinking up at him blearily, her poor swollen nose looking a little less like a tomato and a little more like a cherry.

"Oh Peter....I feel awful."

Peter smiled sympathetically. "You look awful."

At his bald statement, Wendy's eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip trembled pathetically. "Oh you wretch.....how can you be so cruel."

"Well you do.....but I'm sure Crazy Owl's medicine will get you up and fighting fit in no time."

Wendy sniffled, her nose leaking once more. "I don't want to be fighting fit. I just want to get better."

"Oh....well I'm sure you will.....eventually."

Patting her hand, Peter fidgeted, unsure what to say that wouldn't make the situation worse. Wendy stared up at him with a watery gaze, sniffing indelicately.

Peter tried again." Um.....can I get you anything?"

Wendy's hand disappeared under the covers only to emerge with a very wet piece of cloth which she held out for Peter to take.

"I need a new hanky...this one is soaked."

Gingerly Peter took the offending rag between his thumb and first finger, carrying it out of the room and flinging it into the wash bucket before assiduously wiping his hands on his trousers. Finding a dry cloth he returned to the bedroom and handed it over, Wendy immediately blowing her nose noisily into its depths. Peter winced at the assault on his ears before pinning a hopefully encouraging smile on his face.

"All better now?"

Wendy glared at him, tucking the cloth under the covers. "No....I have a cold."

"Yes....I know....but don't you feel even a little bit better?"

"No...."

"Oh.....how about some more of this medicine...." He held out the beaker for her. Wendy took it from him and cautiously sipped at the now cooled brew, pleasantly surprised at the taste, downing the whole draught before handing it back.

"More please."

"Sure....won't be a tick."

Hurrying out of the room he quickly refilled the mug and took it back. As he set it down a loud snore announced that Wendy was once more asleep. Sighing, Peter leant over and placed a quick kiss on her damp forehead, tucking the covers more snuggly about her before tip-toeing out of the room.

Settling himself once more outside the tree, he gazed up at the stars starting to twinkle above the forest. Disappointed at the way his day had finished, Peter pulled out his pan pipes and played a mournful tune, the notes wafting over the trees to be swallowed up by the sounds of the night.