Title: To Have and To Hold
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: One - Wendy
Rating: PG13 (to start with)
Pairing: Peter/Wendy late teens.

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Synopsis: The year is 1910. A special book draws Wendy into a familliar world where she finds characters from her childhood very much alive and well, not figments of her imaginations as she'd long supposed. Adventure and peril await the turn of the next page.

Authors Note: After a hiatus of three months, and much prodding from persistant fans (you know who you are), I decided once more to put pinky to keyboard and attempt another foray into the wonderful adventures of these characters. My muse has been rather reticent about the direction of this particular epic, so don't bother asking me what's going to happen, because I have no idea. I can only trust to my muse and hope he/she/it knows what they're doing. Feedback is always appreciated and flames toast my marshmallows, so feel free to email me. This is now posted at FF.net, although it will be updated here more quickly. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy.

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Wendy Darling danced nimbly out of the way of the dirty water splashed up by the passing wheels of the Stanley steamer car as it puttered its way along Montague Street, heading for Russell Square beyond. She clutched the books more firmly to her chest with one gloved hand while lifting her skirts above the cobbles with the other. A gust of wind buffeted her broad brimmed hat, threatening to rip it from her hat pins as she sought the shelter of a doorway, her fingers fumbling with the key to unlock the bottle glass door, another gust propelling her inward just as rain started to sleet down. Shutting the door behind her with an unladylike use of her bottom, Wendy dropped the books onto the counter and peeled her gloves off before removing her hat from on top of her piled hair. Re-skewering the hat pins amongst the straw, she gathered the hat and gloves together and whisked herself behind the counter to place them in their usual place on one of the shelves below.

Bennetts Book Shop Emporium was slightly off the beaten track for most casual shoppers along Russell Street, but to those seeking the unusual, the rare or the select, Bennetts was much sought out and well patronised for such a small business.

Mr. Bennett Senior was a spare man with a keen intellect and a sharp nose for business. It had been his brother who had been the collector of books, but Mr.Bennett Senior who put that love of books to good use. With his younger brother traveling the world, acquiring new books and filling orders, the senior made sure that the business thrived with canny investments and discreet advertising among the literati of London.

Turning up the gas lamps to light the dim interior, Wendy reflected on how she found herself staring out of the windows of, what was to her, an Aladdin's cave of treasures.

Wendy had discovered the bounty of Bennetts while on one of her walking tours, her love of the unusual and intriguing leading her off the beaten track and down a side street and into the self-effacing book shop. Here she had been so engrossed in a rare edition, that dinner with her Aunt was forgotten until a cough from Mr.Bennett recalled her to the time and she had to rush home, the book left behind in her haste. Two days later she was back and Mr. Bennett didn't wait for her to ask but handed the book over the counter to her and indicated with a smile to a rank of comfortable looking chairs ensconced in a corner for the use of patrons. Bestowing a sweet smile on the proprietor Wendy accepted the offer and delved once more between the pages. As the morning progressed there were a steady stream of customers to the shop, a surprise given the overcast day, Wendy's eyes lifting with each opening of the door, her surprised appraisal of the quality of the customers marked only by a lift of one eyebrow before she returned to her book. During a lull, Mr.Bennett seated himself beside the young lady and waited for her to acknowledge his presence. A long sigh escaped from Wendy's lips as she reached the end of a chapter, her eyes darting up and encountering the smiling gaze of shops owner.

"Oh I'm sorry.....I do promise you I intend to purchase this edition. It's just....." She bit her lip, unconsciously gripping the volume of verse more tightly. "I don't get a chance to just sit and....read, at home, and here its so...." She waved her hand. "Perfect."

Suppressing the urge to smile, Mr.Bennett threaded his fingers together and rested them across his waistcoat.

"You don't have to explain, young lady. I have found that if one allows a potential customer to fully sample what we have to offer,they are more likely to return again, and again to sample more."

"You are too kind. I do appreciate you giving me the time to delve into this wonderful book. I had been told of this author, and read some installments of his work in old editions of the Strand Magazine at my Aunt's, but to be able to read a complete novel of Mr.Conan Doyles'', uninterrupted is just...." Wendy found herself lost for adjectives.

"Perfect?" Mr. Bennett offered, his lean mouth uplifting at the corners in response to Wendy's enthusiasm.

"Exactly."

"It is always a pleasure to encounter someone who gets as much pleasure from the printed page as my brother and I do. I am Arnold Bennett Senior and you are...?"

Sitting on the edge of the chair Wendy held out her hand to clasp his. "Wendy Moira Angela Darling....I'm very pleased to make your Acquaintance Mr.Bennett"

Gravely shaking her hand, Mr.Bennett's eyes twinkled as he rose to his feet, drawing Wendy up with him.

"I look forward to seeing you within these book lined walls again soon."

"Oh yes...you will." Wendy fumbled in her reticule for the coin to pay for her book. As Mr.Bennett deposited the funds and returned her change, he crossed his arms and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"I don't suppose a young lady of comfortable means is looking for a respectable position of employment close to home?"

Startled Wendy looked up to meet his knowing brown with her surprised blue eyes.

"As if just so happens, I am looking for a situation Mr.Bennett."

"And I am in need of someone of intelligence and grace to update our catalogue and help our clientele with their purchases. Do you think you might be the person we're looking for Miss Darling?"

Pressing her book to her blouse, Wendy smiled brightly, once more holding out her hand.

"I think I am the very person, Mr.Bennett....when can I start?"

"There will be no objection from your family?"

"Oh my Aunt will have plenty to say, but as she is aware I am looking for a position, it will not come as a surprise, and my parents will just be glad that I'm happy."

"I hope you will be happy here Miss Darling....there will be ample time for you to fit your writing around your duties here."

Looking surprised, Wendy gasped faintly. "How did you know?"

"That you are a writer? You have a callous on your finger and a faint smudge of blue ink on its partner."

Looking down at the offending digits, Wendy laughed. "Worthy of Mr.Holmes, if I may say so sir."

"All in the details my dear. Now are you able to start tomorrow?"

And so she did, despite misgiving, loudly lamented until she shut her Aunt's front door in that lady's face and set off down the street towards Russell Street.

To work in Bennetts would give her access to material she could use to start her own novel, in three parts, about her own adventures, something she had been working towards for the past six years. Of course, she had not been entirely focused on her writing for that entire time, a great deal had been spent on the business of growing up and becoming as accomplished as her Aunt could make her. Unfortunately her restless spirit hardly lent itself to such mundane skills as embroidery or sewing and her musical talent was sadly lacking despite a sweet singing voice. But despite her perceived short comings, unseen by anyone else, Wendy still kept her ability to weave magic from words, committing her imaginings to paper as often as possible with a view to compiling an anthology of her stories at some later date. Now it seemed that she would be making a positive step towards her goal, and all with little or no effort on her behalf.

Recalling herself to the present, Wendy stared out at the gloomy morning, the rain sending the few brave souls braving the weather to skitter and scramble along the street, their black umbrella's tugged and sent tumbling by the gusty wind as they fought to stay dry. Smiling ruefully at the few passing the door, she resigned herself to an unexciting morning with few customers. Mr.Bennett had left her in charge for the first time since she's started, that gentleman having to pay a visit to the Museum to discuss a discovery by his brother of an edition of Marcus Aurelius that his brother had unearthed while on his travels. The Museum had already expressed an interest in obtaining the copy and Arnold Bennett had an appointment to discuss delivery with the curator.

That left Wendy with a free morning to indulge in her favourite past-time, delving into the dusty recesses of the book shop and unearthing unseen treasures to wile away the hours. After checking that the door bell was working fine and the lights all burning brightly, Wendy gathered together the books she's borrowed the previous day and started down the long rows of shelves to return them. That task completed she took hold of the movable ladder and scooted it down the length of one shelf until it reached nearly the back of the shop. Carefully placing her booted foot on the bottom rung, she hitched up her skirts and started to climb. The ladder was not overly tall, and was well maintained and steady, but Wendy couldn't help feeling that she almost felt the sway of ship as she climbed the rigging, her eyes closing as she imagined the cry of the gulls and the smell of brine.

So lost in her thoughts it took three goes to get her attention from the customer standing patiently at the bottom of the ladder. On the third polite cough, Wendy jumped in surprise and twisted around, losing her footing in the process. With a cry she found herself falling, only a strong pair of arms stopping her connecting with disaster before both she and her rescuer tumbled headlong to the floor in a flurry of petticoats, hat and umbrella.

After several seconds of inelegant scrambling she managed to disentangle herself from on top of the human mattress that had saved her from serious injury.

"Oh dear...oh I'm so sorry.....are you alright?" Breathlessly she hauled herself up using the ladder and turned to survey the person who had saved her.

"I think I should be asking you that." The man replied getting to his feet and brushing down his top coat while looking for his hat knocked off in the encounter. His hair, usually smoothed back from his face, had been severely ruffled and a light brown lock now hung over his forehead, curling quite raffishly. His attention was currently taken up with straightening his waistcoat and jacket under his overcoat, giving Wendy amply time to peruse his appearance. As she clung to the ladder she pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating uncomfortably hard, from shock she supposed, although the young man in front of her would have sent any woman's heart beating rapidly. Satisfied that his appearance was not drastically altered, the young man raised his impossibly feminine lashes for such a masculine face, and stared back at her, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he noted her rather fixed attention on his features.

"Do I have a smut on my nose?"

Pulled from her musings, Wendy blinked several times before pushing herself away from the ladder and attempting to right her own disarray.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You were staring so hard I was sure I must have something stuck to my cheek."

Blushing with embarrassment, Wendy dropped her eyes and felt like shrinking into the carpet.

"I'm so sorry....I was startled you see..."

"Yes...I noticed....that was my third cough, my throat was becoming quite hoarse."

Because she was staring at her toes she didn't notice the twinkle in her rescuers eyes, or the tilt to his lips denoting his teasing.

"I can only apologize again Sir...."

"None needed, I assure you. Are you sure you're quite alright, that was a nasty tumble."

Reassured by his softly spoken enquiry, Wendy glanced up and found herself once more gazing into his eyes, their colour neither blue nor green nor any colour she could put a name to.

"I'm quite alright, I thank you.....was there something I could help you with?"

Alarmed to find her voice coming out as a faint squeak, Wendy cleared her throat and tried again, pleased to hear her voice sounding more normal on the second attempt.

She listened to his request for a specific book while he collected his fallen umbrella and sadly crushed hat from the floor. As he stood upright she belatedly realised that he was very tall and broad and seemed to fill up the narrow space between the bookshelves.

"If you care to come this way Sir, I'll find that volume for you."

Careful not to touch him, Wendy whisked herself away, the stranger following behind. The search for what he wanted took them around several of the shelves and once more to the back of the shop, the sound of the rain drumming on the back windows loud in the stillness of the bookshop.

"I'm sure it's around here, Mr.Bennett mentioned this particular author only last week, and I'm almost positive...." Wendy reached up her arm, raising herself on tip-toe for the requested novel.

"Let me." Without warning Wendy felt the gentleman come up close behind her and reach over her shoulder, his longer arm easily reaching the binding indicated and plucking it from the shelf.

"Oh...er..thank you." Wendy muttered, very conscious of the warmth emanating from the his body, his breath fluttering the hairs that had escaped her loose chignon at the back of her neck.

Turning back to face him she found herself only a hairsbreadth from the front of his coat, her eyes riveted to the large buttons, something stamped on their surface.

"Is that a ship?" She asked, only to gasp in surprise as the gas lamp situated in their aisle suddenly let go a loud pop and went out.

For a stunned moment she stood rigidly still, her heart pounding in her ears, then something brushed across her lips and a faint, drawn out whisper seemed to echo in her ears. "W-e-n-d-y."

Suddenly light flooded the aisle and she saw the man beside the gas-lamp, his back to her.

"It seems to be working now...are you alright?" He asked, turning back towards her from several feet away.

"I didn't feel you move..." Wendy stated, feeling rather dazed, her fingers pressed against her lips, not at all sure of what had just happened.

"No harm done then...can you wrap this for me? It's for a friend."

Suddenly recalled to her job, Wendy took the proffered book with trembling fingers and hastily returned to the front of the shop and behind the counter. Wrapping the book took only a moment, as did the exchange of money, then the man was tucking it inside his coat and preparing to leave.

"I hope your friend enjoys it." Wendy offered, inexplicably wanting to delay the moment he walked out of the shop and out of her life.

Swinging his head around he fixed her with an intent look before smiling widely at her. "I'm sure he will. I enjoyed our little.....adventure. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." Wendy replied, watching as he jammed his creased hat upon his head after slicking back the wayward lock that persistently flopped onto his forehead, then he opened his umbrella and ducked out of the door, the wind catching it and slamming it behind him. Before Wendy could react he was gone, a dark blur through the teeming rain.

The chiming of the clock recalled her to the present and she stared at the time in wonder. It had seemed like hours that the man had been in shop with her, but it had in fact been only minutes. Giving herself a mental shake she banished the image of his handsome face from her mind and tried to concentrate on what she'd been doing before the interruption of her morning.

The rest of the day passed in a desultory fashion with few customers brave enough to venture out in the appalling weather. With the afternoon drawing in, Wendy settled herself to wait for Mr.Bennett with her journal open on her lap, a pencil poised to add her days observations.

As she marshaled her thought, the handsome stranger of the morning chose that moment to intrude on her musing, not clad in a long dark overcoat this time but as a swashbuckling adventurer, his teeth gleaming whitely as he flashed a wide grin, his brawny arms wielding a cutlass as he slashed his way across the deck towards her, the pirates falling to left and right as he fought his way to her side, freeing her from her bonds with a single slash of his blade. Despite the noise and chaos of the battle around them, Wendy found herself clasped in his arms, his head lowering to cover her lips with his before sweeping her off her feet and carrying her away.

The bell chiming over the door jolted her out of her daydream as effectively as a bucket of cold water.

"Still here, m'dear....it's a wickedly wet afternoon. I'll call you a cab. Can't have you getting drowned, now can we?"

Wendy propelled herself out of the chair as Mr.Bennett shook his soaked umbrella out, the floor quite spotted with water before he plunged it into the umbrella stand, there to form a puddle.

"Anyone interesting come in today?" Mr.Bennett asked, raising an eyebrow as Wendy blushed brightly before turning away to find the days ledger to show him.

"Nobody unusual...I'm afraid business was rather slow today."

"Ah...well, never mind. You get yourself ready, I'll go and whistle for a hackney for you."

"Oh but..." Wendy protested but Mr.Bennett was already standing on the shop porch, indicating for someone to come forward. A young boy accepted a coin and dashed away as Mr.Bennett ducked back inside.

"He won't be long, I'm sure. Jem has often done this service for me, he knows where all the taxi ranks are. Now make sure you secure that pretty hat, we don't want the wind to fly it away, do we."

Submitting to her employers avuncular care, Wendy prepared herself to leave just as the sound of a horse could be heard clopping to a halt outside the shop. With a hurried goodbye, Wendy left Bennetts and gave the driver instructions to take her back to her Aunts.

Once home she endured her Aunt's fussing over her damp hem and muddy half boots, along with a lecture about using public transport.

"Would you rather I walked and got soaked for my morals Aunt?"

"Of course not dear....it's just you never know who's been in the hackney before you."

After slipping on her indoor shoes, Wendy made her way upstairs, carefully unwrapping her journal from its waterproof cover as she entered her bedroom and sat down at her escritoire, opening it to the last page. In disbelief she stared down at the image drawn on the page below a line of her neat writing, the eyes as intent as their owner, daring her to join him even as his mouth seemed to mock her inclination to adventure.

"I didn't even realise what I was doing." Wendy breathed, shutting the book in a hurry before she found herself drifting off into another daydream about a man she was never likely to meet again.

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At nearly nineteen Wendy was quite used to her Aunt's importuning her to try harder to attach a husband. Since she had moved in with her Aunt at the tender age of fifteen, Wendy had leant early on that Millicent only had one wish, to see her niece comfortably settled before she attained the age of eighteen. Now that venerable age had passed and Wendy congratulated herself on foiling every attempt on her redoubtable Aunt's behalf to secure Wendy's future.

It was not that she didn't want to get married, or fall in love or any of those things expected of a girl, it was just she wanted to do something other than what was expected. She wanted to write more than she wanted to worry about the latest uncomfortable fashion, or the latest gossip about who had married whom and who was currently on the market for a wife. All that was unimportant to Wendy. She wanted to write and her ambition was to be published before she was twenty.

That no female author had managed such a feat before hardly worried her, she was going to be the first. To that end, her employment by Bennetts was a necessary step along the way, opening the door to opportunities and connections that would see her dreams fulfilled; despite her Aunt's and Parents well meant cautionary warnings about ambitious young ladies that wanted to run before they could walk.

Wendy ignored them all, convinced that if she wished for it hard enough it would happen. Bennetts, for her, was proof that it would.

A week after her day-dream inducing encounter with the unknown, and undoubtedly handsome young man, Wendy had another incident with a customer that caused her many a sleepless night, and not entirely as pleasurably.

It had been a long morning with the fine weather bringing out all those people who had remained indoor the previous week. As she bade the last customer farewell before lunchtime, she saw a long, sleek car pull up outside the shop. Mr.Bennett was in the back, taking a well earned break, so Wendy was alone when the owner of the car stepped onto the pavement and into the shop. The car door had been opened by a short, rotund individual with a nervous habit of pushing his glasses back up his nose, his coat straining to contain his ample stomach as he stepped back to allow the occupant of the car to exit. The short mans employer, for Wendy assumed he was as much from the little mans obsequious behavior, unwound his long legs from the back seat and gracefully rose to his full height, stepping on to the pavement and pausing to look up at the shop signage for a moment. He was dressed in black from his hat to his shiny boots, his suit obscured by a flowing cloak that he tossed over one shoulder, revealing its red silk lining. In one hand he held a cane with a silver top carved into the shape of a crocodiles head. In the other nothing, the arm held stiffly by his side to hold back the fold of his cloak as he stepped forward.

He entered the shop alone and came to stand in front of the counter, laying the cane down before lifting his left hand to sweep off his hat revealing raven black hair that glinted in the light from the gas lamps. Wendy found herself staring once more into eyes that seemed to mesmerize her, but this time not with romantic notions, but a feeling akin to terror, the mans' pale blue eyes seemingly stripping her where she stood, his sardonic lips curling upwards beneath a neatly trimmed moustache.

"I wonder if you can help me."

As if bored with her, the man's gaze swept past her to encompass the shop's contents and Wendy felt a jerk as if released from the bondage of his perusal.

"I will do my best Sir."

"Of course you will......" He rattled off the names of several authors and Wendy noted them in her book, already sorting in her mind where they would be found on the shelves. With her head down bent she didn't see the man glance back at her, a red gleam flashing in the pale blue as he flexed his gloved hand around the brim of his hat.

"If you care to wait, I will fetch these for you." Wendy suggested, indicating the chairs set out for that purpose.

"As you wish.....I am in a hurry."

"I'll be a quick as I can Sir."

Hurrying away, Wendy ducked down one of the aisles, quickly finding the first three on the list and carrying them back to the counter for the gentleman to peruse which she fetched the rest of his order.

One of his requests was proving elusive and she found herself on her knees tugging at a book that seemed jammed between two others.

"Is there a problem?" The man's voice slid over her, making her shiver as she glanced up to find him standing right beside her, his boots sporting buckles that she hadn't noticed before, the silver fashioned into an ornate representation of a crocodile chasing its tail. The book finally came free and Wendy scrambled to her feet, the man hooking a hand under her arm to assist her while at the same time bringing her flush against his chest, his face mere inches from hers.

"S-S-i-r?" Wendy whispered, her eyes wide as she stared into his, her lips parted as she drew in a panicky breath, overwhelmed by his saturnine good looks and searching stare.

"There's nothing to fear m'dear....I just wanted to see......" His deep voice trailed off, his hand abruptly letting her go so that she fell back against the shelf in surprise.

"See what?" Wendy whispered, his book clutched to her chest like a shield.

But he had already turned away, his cloak swirling about him as he sauntered back to the front of the shop leaving Wendy leaning weakly against the books. Giving herself a mental shake, Wendy followed more slowly and felt rather foolish by the time she had wrapped those books he indicated, handing over the large parcel to the short man with glasses who had entered unnoticed and now stood awaiting his masters' orders.

"Thank you, good day." Was all the dark man said before sweeping out of the shop, his hat once more on his head, his cane tapping against the footpath as he waited impatiently for his minion to catch up and open the car door.

Mr.Bennett, coming up behind Wendy and watching as the car purred out of sight saw her jump when he spoke. "Who was that?"

"Oh...oh nobody...just a man wanting some books."

"You look very pale Wendy, are you sure everything is alright?"

"Yes....yes of course. Would you mind if I go and make myself a cup of tea?"

"Not at all..take your time, you look a little shaken up."

Brushing off her kindly employers concern, Wendy muttered something incoherent and took herself off into the side room that housed a small kitchen and office.

Stirring her tea with a shaking hand, she chided herself for being so easily over set by the man, her mind pondering what he meant when he told her he just wanted to see. But see what?

Writing the incident up in her journal when she was once more safely ensconced in her bedroom, Wendy tried to remember as much detail as possible, but her memory remained vaguely elusive, as if a veil had been thrown over the entire encounter until she wondered if it had happened at all.

When she slept that night she tossed and turned, her dreams haunted by a pair of pale blue eyes that seemed to be forever asking a question and laughing cruelly when she failed to understand or answer.

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It was the Monday following the incident with the man in black when Wendy found The Book. She had been looking for a reference book, her search taking her up into the attic where Mr.Bennett assured her the book was to be found. It was only late morning but the attic was quite dark with no daylight finding a hole in the slates. Carefully she carried a lamp in one hand, together with a box of matches, up the narrow stairs to the small door. Unlocking it she pushed the door open before lighting the lamp and pressing forward. Under the eaves the attic space stretched away into the gloom, several strange shapes causing her to hold the lantern high to identify them. Down one end appeared to be furniture and household bric-a-brac no longer needed, along with old shelving and several leather bound chests. The other end held a series of low shelves draped in cheesecloth to keep out the dust and protect the volumes hidden beneath the folds.

There was plenty of headroom but the blackness of the roof made Wendy bend over regardless of the space, the lantern shedding a circle of light not much further than her footfall beyond her skirts. On reaching the first shelf she carefully pulled back the cover, so as not to create a dust storm. A quick check of the volumes made her replace the corner and move on to the next shelf. This proved the one she was looking for so she pulled the cloth completely off, albeit very carefully, and folded it on the floor. Placing the lamp where it shed it meager light on the spines, she started to work her way down the titles. As her fingers danced over the leather bindings she heard a noise and turned to see what it was. Thinking it a mouse, she was surprised to see a book sitting half out of its place on the shelf. Lifting the lamp she approached the book and reached out to pull it from its place. It appeared stuck and she had to tug to free it, the shelf almost rocking when she did. It was only a slender volume, its leather binding quite dull with dust, the gold lettering on the spine indecipherable with wear. Curious, Wendy opened the book and almost dropped it when the title leapt of the white parchment.

Neverland Awaits You.

As she stared down at those three words staring starkly up at her from the first page, she felt the room start to spin. Closing her eyes she shut the book with a snap and dropped it to the floor, her hand flying to her forehead and pressing, as if to stop the cascade of memory that was flooding into her minds eye.

"You don't exist...it was a dream....it's not possible!"

Drawing in a calming breath, Wendy opened her eyes to find the world hadn't shifted on its axis, that the attic was just as dark and musty as before. Seeing the small book sitting forlornly in the dust, she bent down to pick it up. She didn't open it again, just turned it over in her hand, peering at the front on which there was a design like a medallion or a coin, and at the back, which had another stamp like that made by a ring in hot wax. Her original search forgotten, Wendy gingerly held the book as if expecting it to burst in to flames and carried it to the head of the stairwell after collecting the lamp. Hurrying down the stairs she made up an excuse to Mr.Bennett who took one look at her white face and sent her home to rest without questioning her further.

Her Aunt was out when she fumbled her way into the house and rushed up the stairs, only the maid noting her arrival as Wendy whisked herself into her bedroom and shut the door. Panting at her precipitous arrival, Wendy threw off her hat and coat, her gloves landing on the heap before throwing herself onto the bed, the book clutched convulsively against her breast.

"What on earth will Mr.Bennett think of me....he must think I've run mad..I have gone mad.....quite mad."

While she waited for her heart to stop pounding, Wendy rolled on to her side and held the book up to look at it closely. It felt warm against her fingers, the leather cover silky and smooth, almost alive. Biting her lip she slowly opened the cover again and saw the title, just as it had been before. Hesitantly she turned the page and saw a colour plate covered by waxed paper. Lifting the concealing sheet she felt her heart thud as she stared at the small but beautifully executed painting of the island of Neverland, every detail as sharp as if painted that day, the colours vibrant as if newly minted.

It was Neverland, her Neverland, Peter's Neverland, Hook's Neverland, the tall peaks, deep valleys, lush forests, azure seas, wide plains, it was all there. Reverently she traced the tip of her finger over the picture, the image seeming to swell and expand until she felt like she was hovering over the island, flying like a seagull over its rocky cliffs and sandy beaches, as light as a feather. A sudden sensation of vertigo made her head swim and her eyes slam shut, the book dropping from her hand to the bedcovers.

As she pressed her fingers to her eyes, memories of her short time spent on that magical island started to flood over her. Of Peter, so young and vibrant, so brash and brave, so arrogant and vulnerable. Of herself, so in love with him, with his world, with her own sense of adventure and invulnerability. It was all so long ago.

Of course she could not really deny it existed, there were her brothers and step-brothers as proof that they had gone somewhere, and come back from somewhere, and there was the pirate booty which had allowed the Darling family to absorb the new arrivals with little strain on the bank balance. But time has a habit of dulling events, of diluting history, or reducing facts to vague remembrances until faces start to blur and details become lost amongst everyday routine and growing up.

She had never really forgotten Peter, but all she could recall with any clarity was impressions of him, his cocky stance, smug smile and sun bleached hair. Of Neverland, she had similar impressions, of running through lush undergrowth, of climbing the rough bark of trees, of flying above the clouds, their cold wisps stroking her face. Her sharpest recollections were of the times aboard the Jolly Roger. The ship smelling of tar and brine, the rigging creaking and swaying, the deck heaving under her bare feet, all these she remembered along with the terror of being at Hook's mercy until Peter arrived and saved them all.

Opening her eyes she picked up the book again and opened it to the coloured plate, the image once more just a painted picture of a fanciful island from someone's imagination.

There's simply no way it could be her painted island, could it?

Turning the page brought her to the page that usually held the information about its printing date and publisher.

All that was listed was a date, nineteen-oh-four, the year Wendy had turned thirteen, the year she met Peter Pan.

Turning the page again, expecting the index, she was surprised to see her own name heading up the first chapter. Was the author someone known to her? Known to her family? As she read the opening paragraph she almost threw the book across the room. It was about her, her life, her family, what she had done after turning away from the window, from Peter.

Horrified that someone appeared to have been spying on her life, Wendy read down to the bottom of the page, reliving her thirteenth year as if it was yesterday, her life exposed on the printed page like a butterfly pinned to a board. Who had written this? How could they know?

She flipped the pages to the end of the book, hoping to find some reference to the author, not bothering to read anything past the first page, but she noted several pages that held colour plates like the one at the front, her curiosity over coming her bewilderment.

Still not quite believing what she'd read, Wendy read the first page again, the words recalling her feelings and hopes even at that tender age, so torn between childhood and adulthood, her body and mind pulling in different directions but always onwards, never allowing her to linger in the past. Almost scared to read more, she turned the page and found herself staring at an image of herself at thirteen.

"Have I really grown up that much?" She whispered to herself, staring at the girl-child on the brink of being a young woman.

Had she ever been that young, that innocent, that beautiful. Unconsciously Wendy lifted a hand to release her hair from its pins, her long locks tumbling down around her face, the tips no longer sun bleached and golden, the colour darker than in the painting. Seeing the rosy lips parted in a sweet smile in her younger self, Wendy touched her own in wonder, knowing and yet still not believing that she had been that girl once as shown in this book that should not exist.

"I wonder, Peter, if I would love you still, would want you to take me away to Neverland again......were you ever alive anywhere but in my dreams?"

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31/8/05

Chapter: Two - The Book

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Drawing her gaze from the image of her youthful self Wendy continued to read, her life laid down on the printed page, no detail or incident unrecorded, the following pages encapsulating her life from the tender age of thirteen to sixteen, the chapter finishing with her removal from her family home to her Aunts. The heading of the next chapter was simply 'Millicent' and Wendy read the first paragraph with growing discomfort. The author, whoever they were, were now telling Wendy's life through the eyes of her Aunt, her voice clearly heard in Wendy's head as the narrative related several conversations that no-one but herself and her Aunt had been privy to.

"This isn't possible." Wendy whispered to herself, her forehead folded in a frown of growing bewilderment. Turning the page brought another painting of herself, this time dressed for her first formal dance, her face flushed with anticipation, her fingers nervously clutching a posy of white roses that had been sent to her, but neither Wendy nor her Aunt ever knew who her admirer had been. Peering at the impossibly-to-exist painting, Wendy noticed that there appeared to be a landscape in the background, the detail too hazy to make out whether it was the wallpaper behind her or a picture hanging on the wall. The longer she looked the less she could make out until she shook her head and continued to read about her life at her Aunts, through that lady's eyes. The chapter ended abruptly on the event of Wendy's eighteenth birthday and Wendy felt her eyes burn with the strain of reading in the uncertain light of her shadowy bedroom.

Glancing at her small ormolu clock beside her bed she realised that several hours had passed since she'd returned home and yet no-one had come to fetch her for a meal or to enquire about her. Swinging her legs off the side of the bed she shivered, her room suddenly chill, causing her to reach for a thick shawl at the end of the bed usually thrown over her nightdress to ward off the cold night air. Walking to the window she pulled back the curtains and stared out at the rapidly darkening sky, a few flakes were starting to drift down out of the heavens, melting as soon as they touched a surface. Barely believing what she was seeing, Wendy pushed up the sash of her window and leant out, heedless of the chill rushing into her room. Holding out a hand she waited for one of the snowflakes to alight on her skin, the icy offering stinging her for a second before melting into a droplet and running off her hand.

"But it's only September." Wendy remarked to herself, her brows once more drawn together as the snow started to fall more heavily, forcing her to retreat into her room and close the window. As she reached to pull the curtains closed her eye caught the flash of something in the sky and she stood frozen, staring across the rooftops at a star that appeared to pulsate in the skies above London. Off to its left another, fainter star also appeared, its light more yellow that its brighter brother.

"Second star to the right......" Wendy breathed, her words leaving a mist on the glass in front of her.

Yanking the curtains closed she almost ran to her bedroom door and pulled it open. The landing outside was dark, no lights apparently lit despite the darkness outside.

"Amy? Why haven't the lights been lit? Amy?" Wendy called out as she clutched the shawl more tightly about her shoulders, her other hand following the wooden bannister rail as she made her way cautiously down the carpeted stairs in the semi-gloom. "Amy?"

Fumbling her way to the hall table, Wendy tried to light a match to ignite the wick of a table lamp but none of the matches would strike. Throwing the box down in disgust Wendy swung around and headed for the front door, the latch stiff and uncooperative until, with a loud click, the lock gave and Wendy lurched out on to the front step, her breath fogging in the cold air.

The pavement and road was already white with a light dusting, the flakes starting to fall more thickly as Wendy took a step outside to stare in shock at the houses opposite. None showed any lights, and the street lamps were similarly doused. There were no marks on the pavement of footprints or wheel tracks on the roadway. Turning her head from side to side, Wendy could see little beyond the few houses either side of her, the snow now falling so thickly that visibility was quickly shrinking down to just her Aunts house and the pavement at the bottom of the steps. Hesitantly Wendy took a step forward but a flurry of flakes drove her back, the ice stinging her face and hands as she tried to protect herself. With a cry she twisted around and stumbled back into the house, her teeth chattering as rivulets of chill water dripped from her hair down her face.

"What is happening?" She cried out, the house silent as she shivered with fright and cold. Expecting and receiving no answer, Wendy hurried to check all the rooms on the ground floor, the doors left open behind her as she ran on numb feet, hoping against hope to find someone, anyone to tell her it was all a mistake, a cruel joke.

Almost sobbing she returned to the foyer having found no indication of anyone ever having lived in the house, let alone her Aunt and the few servants she employed. It was almost full dark now, only a faint glimmer of pale light coming through the glass above the door as Wendy made her way up the stairs to her room, her arms wrapped around her body, her mind frighteningly blank.

When she reached the top of the stairs she saw a light spilling out of her room, warm and golden like the sun rising.

"Aunt Millicent?" Wendy quavered, her feet carrying her towards her bedroom doorway, the light growing brighter the closer she came.

"Wh-o-o's in there?" Edging her way cautiously into the room, she had to hold up her hand to shield her eyes as the light blazed into incandescence, flooding the room with heat.

Beyond fear, Wendy stepped forward fully into the light, her eyes almost shut against the glare. Her bed seemed to be the center of the light source and she recalled that the book had been left there. Blinking, she squinted and could just see the hard edges of the book's cover lying on top of her coverlet, a beam of light emanating from the coin like medallion she'd seen pressed into the leather cover. As she peered slit-eyed at the beam of light, she saw something suspended over the book, dangling just above the medallion. Drawn by some unknown force, Wendy approached the bed, her shawl dropping to the floor unheeded as she reached out to grasp the object suspended over the book. As her fingers wrapped around whatever it was, the light suddenly winked out of existence leaving her blinking stupidly while spots of light danced over her vision. She stood there beside the bed for some seconds until her sight once more adjusted to the gloom of her room. As her sight returned, so did her other senses, her ears registering noises coming from outside the house, of footsteps on the stairs beyond her room.

"I've come to see if'n you'd like a cup of tea Miss Wendy?" Amy cheerful voice jolted her out of her trance.

Looking up and around, Wendy met Amy's enquiry look with a bemused one of her own. "Tea?"

"Yes Miss....cup of tea, some of cook's sultana cake?"

"Er....yes....thank you....I'll be down presently." Wendy continued to stare at the maid with an abstracted air, the girl stepping further into the room in curiosity.

"Are you alright Miss? You look a mite peaky. Would you like your tea up here?"

"NO....er no...thank you. I'll come down....I'm....I'm just a bit tired."

"As you wish." Giving Wendy a curious glance the maid left, the sound of her feet pattering down the stairs keeping Wendy's attention until they faded into the distance.

Thoroughly confused, Wendy turned back to the bed to stare down at the inoffensive book lying as she'd left it on the coverlet, its cover once more dull with age and dirt, the coin medallion almost invisible. She started to shake in reaction, her legs giving out until she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Almost at once she leapt up again, rushing over to the window and pulling back the curtains. Outside it was dusk with lights blazing from all the houses opposite and still a trickle of traffic trundling past the few pedestrians hurrying home. Of the snow storm there was no sign, nor of the two bright stars in the sky.

Something brushed against her hand and she realised she was still holding whatever had been floating above the book. Opening her fingers she felt a rush of tears flood her eyes as she gazed down at the chain and pendant sitting so innocently on her palm.

The chain was still bright, the gold not dulled with the years, but the pendant was a shadow of its former glory, the smooth surface with its small hole now wrinkled and black, the stalk shriveled, the leaf crumbled to dust.

"My Kiss..." Wendy whispered, the tears trembling on her lashes before falling over and blazing a path down her cheek. Cupping the withered acorn in both her hands she walked back to the bed and sat down beside the book. Carefully she deposited the blackened memento onto the coverlet and stared down at the two side by side.

Sniffing, Wendy wiped her face with the back of her hand, hardly knowing what to think. Had she been asleep and just dreaming? Had it all been an hallucination? What did it all mean?

"I must have dreamed it." Fumbling in her skirt pocket for a hanky, Wendy wiped the rest of her tears away and blew her nose. Drawing in a shaky breath she rose to her feet and brushed down her skirts. Feeling her hair brush against her face she moved to her dressing table and sat down, quickly twisting her hair into a loose bun and securing it with pins. Her eyes looked red and her cheeks were pale, but she hardly noticed, her thoughts introspective as she prepared to go downstairs and have the tea prepared for her.

"It was just a dream...I fell asleep and had a...a...nightmare. Nothing more." Blithely ignoring the facts, the book that couldn't exist, and the acorn that shouldn't exist, Wendy straightened her shoulders and walked out of her room.

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"She almost came through."

"Patience lad....she'll be here soon enough."

"Why didn't it work? Has it been too long?"

"Nay...give it time. She has a lot to remember, it's been a few years."

"Six to be exact in her world....has she forgotten me?"

"Nay....not exactly."

"She didn't recognize me...she has forgotten me."

"You worry too much. The Book says she'll come, so she will."

"But what if she doesn't...what if she chooses to forget?"

"That'll never happen. She'll come...in her own good time."

"Maybe I should go and see her again."

"You'd be foolish to push it.....Hook will use it to his advantage if he finds out you've already pre-empted him. He might think to lure her."

"He's too old....and anyway....Wendy loved me, not him."

"Ah lad...women are fickle creatures. She loved you as a girl, now she's a woman and Hook is not unattractive to the opposite sex."

"I'll gut him if he tries it."

"Yes well....all I'm saying is give it time. She'll have to get to know you all over again."

"Have I changed so much?"

"We all have lad....you, her, Neverland...the whole kit and kaboodle."

"She is beautiful, doncha think?"

"Handsome is as handsome does...it's what's in the heart that counts."

"Why Matt, I do believe you've become a romantic in your old age."

"Get away with ya, ya swab.....isn't there something you should be doing? Or are we expected to Captain this tub ourselves?"

"I'm going......"

Quartermaster Stubbs watched his youthful Captain bound up the stairs to the main deck, the hatch banging shut behind him. Turning away, Stubbs leant his hands on the rough hewn table set in the middle of the Captain's cabin, the book laying open on the uneven surface looking innocent of the power locked between its covers. With a sigh Stubbs used a single finger to turn the page, the image the same as when he'd looked at it a moment ago with his Captain.

The painting showed the image of a young women, her hand outstretched to grasp a chain suspended in light, her other arm thrown up to shield her eyes from the intense rays.

"Patience, my Captain....she'll be here soon enough. Then we'll see the fur fly."

Hooking the front of the book he slammed it shut, the shiny coin medallion on the front winking brightly against the red leather binding.

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Wendy slept late the next morning, her eyes gritty and sore. Rushing to get to work, she jammed the book into a bag, only touching it when her hands were gloved. On arriving at Bennetts she apologized to Arnold profusely but that gentleman only chided her for looking so wan before leaving her to carry on cataloging the latest additions to the collection.

The book lay forgotten for most of the morning until Wendy had occasion to seek a handkerchief. As soon as her hand dipped into her bag, the book seemed to find its way between her fingers. Every time she put it aside and delved again the book seemed to catch itself, putting itself into her palm until she had to lift it out in frustration.

She put the book down on the counter and found her handkerchief within seconds. Just as she was about to throw the book back into her bag Mr.Bennett appeared.

"Everything alright m'dear?"

"Oh yes....quite alright. Just a sniffle."

Peering over his half-glasses, Mr.Bennett picked up the slim book before Wendy could, turning it over in his hand and inspecting the spine and cover.

"Now I haven't seen this for many a year. From the attic?"

Wendy blushed and nodded.

Cradling it carefully in one hand, he opened it with the other, his eyebrows rising as he read the front page.

"I didn't know you were interested in piracy?"

Perplexed, Wendy could only stare at her employer open mouthed.

Seeing her expression, Mr.Bennett held up the book for her to see the fly leaf. The title read "Pirates and Piracy - A Personal Journal"

"But...but..it didn't....that's not...." Wendy spluttered, unable to explain.

"Not that I don't see the romantic attraction of such a profession, but I would hardly call it light reading for a young lady."

Seeing the twinkle in his eye, Wendy snapped her mouth shut and attempted to smile. "I was doing some research, you see...."

"You don't have to explain....I remember when this came in, from an deceased estate collection....strange family name....sounded like...." Mr.Bennett's forehead creased as he tried to remember. "Tree....or Flea....or....something like that..."

Feeling the blood drain from her face, Wendy swallowed hard.

"Smee?"

The frown on Mr.Bennett's face disappeared and he snapped the fingers of his free hand. "Smee..that's the name. Now how did you know that?"

"Er.....I guessed?"

"Well you're quite right....a seafaring gentlemen, lived to a ripe old age and had a fascinating collection of artifacts collected from around the world."

"Did you see any of these....er....artifacts?" Wendy asked, not at all sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Some...I remember they caused quite a stir in the scientific circles because of their claims to be authentic."

Wendy swallowed on a dry throat. "Authentic?"

"Yes...silly really. I mean fairies and mermaids don't exist, do they?"

"Er....no, I suppose they don't."

Mr. Bennett tapped a finger against the book, lost in his remembrance. "I do remember one article that stood out. A collection of gold and silver hooks."

"Hooks?" Wendy could feel the walls starting to recede and then crowd in.

"Yes, most unusual....a carved wooden box with a red velvet lining, very expensive and ornate, like a jewel case, but it held very sharp hooks of different shapes and sizes. The kind a man would use if he'd lost a hand...." Mr.Bennett belatedly realised his audience was swaying. "Why Wendy...whatever is the matter....oh my!"

Dropping the book hurriedly, Mr.Bennett caught his assistant as she flopped forward, her eyes closed. Wendy was by no means a large girl, but Mr.Bennett was not a strong man and wilted under her weight. Just as he thought that they would both end up on the carpet, the door opened and a gentlemen entered. Taking in the situation at a glance, the man came around the end of the counter and scooped the girl into his arms, relieving Mr.Bennett who indicated for the stranger to carry Wendy over to a divan and lay her down.

"I don't know what came over the dear girl.....she was fine a moment ago, then suddenly...." Mr.Bennett hurried back to the counter and rummaged in one of the drawers, finding the vial he was seeking.

The stranger was kneeling beside the divan, chafing Wendy's hand when Mr.Bennett leant over and suggested he wave the vial under her nose.

Flinging back his dark cloak, he did just that, Wendy's nose wrinkling as she inhaled the astringent fumes. With a gasp she came awake, her eyes wide as she beheld the man leaning over her. To every ones surprise she screamed and covered her face, the man rearing back and almost stepping on Mr.Bennett who similarly stepped backwards.

"Oh dear....it was all that talk on pirates. Must have frightened the poor girl. I do apologize."

Rising stiffly to his full height, the man regarded Mr.Bennett with a sardonic smile, his eyes gleaming as he turned to leave. "I don't imagine it was pirates, maybe I reminded her of someone."

"Dear sir...I can only thank you for your prompt action."

"Think nothing of it....I'll leave you to take care of her and return another time."

Not waiting a moment longer, the dark stranger left the shop in a swirl of black silk, Mr.Bennett taking his position beside the divan.

"Has he gone?" Wendy's muffled voice came from behind her fingers.

"Yes m'dear.....how are you feeling?"

"Embarrassed."

"You should have told me you were unwell..I don't expect you to work if you don't feel up to snuff."

"I'm not unwell.....mad maybe, but not ill," Wendy's voice had an hysterical edge that sent Mr.Bennett reaching for the smelling salts again. Seeing his worried frown, Wendy swung her legs over the edge of the divan and sat up, a forced smile painting her face.

"Please Mr.Bennett...I don't know what came over me, really. I....er...I had a bad night....um..nightmares and such."

"Ah....reading that book until the small hours, I'll hazard a guess."

"Something like that....I am sorry to be so weak willed..."

"Not at all...and the gentleman said he'd be back, so no custom lost there."

"Gentleman?"

"The one who carried you here," Mr. Bennett laughed softly, "I could hardly do that myself."

"Oh dear...was he a young gentleman?" Wendy could feel herself blush to the roots of her hair as she studiously studied her skirts.

"Not young...don't you remember, you screamed when you opened your eyes."

"Oh Lord....I didn't....oh I did." Mortified, Wendy covered her face again.

"Tut tut, nothing to worry about...I'm sure he felt very gallant rescuing you from a 'fate worse than death'."

Hearing the amusement in his voice Wendy looked up. "Fate?"

"An ignominious heap on the carpet, m'dear."

"Oh."

"Just teasing....getting the roses back in your cheeks. Now, a cup of tea is needed I think. You stay here and I'll return with the pot."

"But...."

"No buts...you just sit here, I'll be back directly."

As she watched her employer duck into the side room, Wendy rose to her feet and advanced on the counter, the book laying where Mr.Bennett had dropped it. Snatching it up, Wendy flipped through the pages, but instead of her life story, the pages were filled with images of small boys, dressed most strangely in furs and feathers and leaves, sporting weapons as diverse as their dress. The first chapter was headed up 'The Lost Boys' and Wendy skip read the early pages, flipping back the illustrations until she reached the second chapter. Her heart seemed to still in her chest as she read the title. 'The New Pan'

"What does that mean? The 'New Pan'. What happened to the old Pan? What happened to Peter?"

Mr.Bennett chose that moment to return with a cup of strong tea and Wendy had to put the book down. He steered Wendy back to her seat and fussed over her until a customer entered the shop, then he left her with her thoughts.

For Wendy the morning seemed interminable, the trickle of customers keeping both her and Mr.Bennett busy until well after their lunchtime. Even then the bell above the door seemed to sound again before they had done more than sip their tea and take a bite of anything, let alone pick up a book and read it. By afternoon Wendy felt stretched thin with nervous tension, the book almost calling to her to read it, to learn what had happened in Neverland during her long absence.

At last Mr.Bennett was shooing her out the door, the book once more safely tucked into her handbag, her employer extolling her not to burn the midnight oil again as he waved her goodbye.

Hurrying along the pavement among the crowds of other shop-girls and workers, Wendy didn't heed the carriage shadowing her, the hackney indistinguishable from the hundreds of others plying their trade, nor did she see the occupant who watched the slight figure intently as she hurried home.

Wendy was so intent on reaching her room she didn't hear her Aunt call out to her as she rushed up the stairs, shedding her hat, hat-pins and gloves as she went, her hair tumbling down her back as she fled to the relative security of her room. Slamming the door behind her, she scrabbled in her bag for the book before flinging the accessory into the corner along with her coat. Sitting down heavily on her bed she almost dropped the slim volume her hands trembled so much. In her haste to open it she skipped the first few pages and found herself staring down at a figure of a boy, his cheeky grin an echo of the boy she'd known, but his features completely unknown to her.

"Who are you?" Wendy asked the painting, skimming back through the pages to reach the first, her eyes darting down the page to find out where 'her' Peter had gone. She read the entire chapter and it told her nothing of what had become of the Pan she'd known, just relating the adventure of the boy in the painting that bore no relation to her memory. Certainly the adventures were the same, his clothing and weapons as she recalled, but the face that stared out of the page held none of the spark, the sheer vitality of the boy she'd lost her heart to. A sound caught her attention and she looked up from her close inspection to find her Aunt standing in the doorway looking in at her, her expression somewhere between disapproval and alarm.

"Wendy?"

"Oh....sorry....did you call me?"

"Several times dear...you rushed in, but I wasn't quick enough to catch you. Rushing pell mell up the stairs is hardly lady-like Wendy, and as for throwing your things all over the entrance hall....what ever possessed you?"

"I'm sorry...I just...I had to get upstairs."

Pursing her lips, Millicent stared pointedly at the book still clutched in Wendy's hand. "What is so important that you just had to forego common curtesy and hide yourself in your room?"

Glancing down at the book, Wendy bit her lip. Millicent held out her hand and Wendy reluctantly surrendered the book, closing her eyes when her Aunt flipped the book open to the first page.

"Well, I don't see what was so all fired important about hiding this from me?"

Wendy opened her eyes and stared up at her Aunt who was flipping through the book with a very smug expression on her face.

"And there I was thinking you didn't pay one whit of attention to anything I've said....oh Wendy, I'm so happy."

Thoroughly confused, Wendy rose to her feet and came to stand beside her Aunt, looking over her shoulder at the book. As her Aunt flipped the pages Wendy could see several illustrations for elaborate gowns, several with long trains and flowing flowers. To Wendy's astonishment the book appeared to be all about wedding dresses, along with advice about flowers and other marital paraphernalia for the future bride. Millicent closed the book with a snap and embraced her niece with a kiss on both cheeks before pressing the book back into Wendy's nerveless fingers.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what Aunt?"

"Who the lucky man is?"

"Lucky man?"

"The man you've decided to marry...Oh Wendy, don't tease me..who is he?"

"I have no idea.....this book.....oh dear...this book, it wasn't what I brought home."

"Oh come now dear...you can tell me? Or are you keeping it as a surprise for your dear parents. Oh how exciting.....at least tell me his first name or I'll just burst with anticipation."

Wendy found herself lost for words, her Aunt's bright, intent gaze and obvious enthusiasm making her distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry Aunt, but I have no one in mind to marry....no one at all."

Millicent's face fell dramatically and Wendy winced inwardly at her Aunt's wounded look.

"Oh Wendy....how unkind of you. It's not much to ask for his first name...is it?"

Feeling a headache coming on, Wendy searched her suddenly blank mind for a name to give her Aunt.

"Peter......his name....is....Peter."

Again she found herself fondly embraced before her Aunt patted her on the arm and headed for the bedroom door.

"Thank you dear...I promise to keep it a secret until you tell George and Mary....oh how wonderful.....Peter..."

Wendy waited for her Aunt to leave before sinking back down on the bed and dropping her head into her hands, the book discarded once more on the coverlet.

"What have I done?"

With her face still hidden in her hands, Wendy fell sideways onto her pillows, wondering how on earth she was going to get herself out of the pickle she'd created by lying to her Aunt.

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Wendy dragged herself up to her room later that evening, her ears burning from all the thinly veiled suggestions of places to hold the service and recommended guests for the list her Aunt was already starting to compile. That combined with the knowing looks and smug smile when Millicent thought Wendy wasn't looking, produced a headache that Wendy used to shorten the interminable probing, albeit subtle, that accompanied almost every breath her Aunt took.

Through it all Wendy gritted her teeth and wished she'd bitten off her tongue rather than give credence to the lie, had never seen the wretched book that seemed to have the ability to change its printing at the drop of a hat. On reaching her room she spied the offending publication still sitting on her bed. Picking it up as if it were a dead mouse she flung it into a corner where it lay face up in the shadows.

Preparing herself for bed soothed Wendy somewhat, her head ceasing to pound quite so violently as she brushed out her hair and slipped into her nightgown. Too tired to think she climbed into bed after dousing the lights, her eyes closed before her head sank into the pillows. Almost at once her eyes opened as she felt something digging into her side. Sitting up she swept her hand over the bottom sheet and encountered the chain which had held the withered acorn pendant. Suddenly angry, Wendy made to fling the token away from her, but somehow the chain became entwined about her fingers. Trying again, she disentangled the links and held it all bundled up in her hand, attempting once more to throw the lot away from herself. Once again the chain somehow managed to tangle itself in her fingers, keeping the acorn snuggly against her palm.

"Oh for heaven's sake....I give up."

Falling back to her pillows, Wendy left the chain as it was, her fingers folding over the blackened acorn as her eyes closed once more and she slipped quickly into a deep sleep.

In the corner the book seemed to shiver, moving across the carpet an inch before becoming still again, then a minute later it moved again, this time lifting into the air and starting to spin, slowly at first and then faster as it rose higher. It remained closed until it had floated almost to the ceiling then it stopped spinning when the book flipped itself open and lay back on its spine, the pages standing up as if frozen in place like the petals of a flower. Slowly the front and back pages started to come together so that the pages spread out even further, looking like a strange star when the two hard covers finally fused together. It continued to float there for a second before it started to emit a glow, the light strengthening with each pulse, flooding the bedroom and illuminating the sleeper but not waking her.

Tucked away in Wendy's hand, the acorn started to glow as well, the nut turning from black to green to gold in the space of a heartbeat, the chain glowing like a ribbon of light wound around Wendy's fingers, pulsing in time with the book.

With the connection made the book, that now looked more like a star, floated across the room and hovered over the sleeper, the light giving the girl an ethereal glow, the covers of the bed peeling away as if pulled by an invisible hand. As it floated above the bed the book-star began to spin, the pages fluttering slightly as it moved, the acorn against Wendy's palm worming its way out and lifting up as if to join with the book as it whirled madly in the air. As if this was the signal the light strengthened and became blinding, cloaking Wendy in gold from head to toe until she too became a thing of light, her body filled and surrounded by it, her outline gradually dissolving, becoming absorbed by the light. In a blink she was gone, the book twisting drunkenly in its mad spinning, the light dying as the outer covers separated and started to fold back on itself until, with a snap, the book closed, dropping lightly to the mattress as if just discarded by its owner.

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4/09/05

Chapter Three:- The Boys.

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"Is she alive?"

"Who cares, she's a grup...grup are supposed to stay dead."

"She doesn't look dead."

"Well, if'n she's not dead, what the heck is she doing layin' about 'ere?"

"Maybe she's a new lost girl?"

"Fool....she's a grup...grup's can't be lost kids, they're grups!"

"Yeah...but she's a pretty grup."

"Hah! Grup's aren't pretty."

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

The sound of a scuffle followed, the grunts and blow's muted as the antagonists rolled away from her.

Wondering what on earth children were doing in her bedroom, Wendy attempted to open her eyes, light stabbing painfully through her head as she opened them a crack.

"Ooooooh my head."

The scuffling sounds stopped instantly, the faint twitter of birds clearly audible in the sudden silence.

"It's alive," the awed whisper almost tempted Wendy to smile, only her mouth felt as dry as a desert, her tongue cleaving to her pallet.

"Run an' get the others, we'll 'ave to surround it 'fore it wakes...'urry!"

The patter of feet on leaves dragged Wendy once more back to the present and she attempted to prise her eyes open again, the light not so bright as she blinked rapidly to clear her vision. She lay staring up at a canopy of trees, swaying gently some distance above her head. Finding that sight somewhat at odds with what she expected, she turned her head slowly to where she'd heard the voices. Squatting on his haunches, an arrow notched in his bow, sat a boy dressed in skins and feathers, his face smeared with both dirt and paint, his eyes narrowed warily as he returned Wendy's stare.

"W-wh-o are you?" Wendy whispered, her throat working.

Instead of answering the boy turned his head in the direction his partner had gone. "TRACE....IT'S TALKIN' TO ME....'URRY UP!"

Turning back to face Wendy, the boy moved back, crab like, the arrow never wavering in its intent.

Moving her head to face away from him, Wendy stared up at the canopy again, her mouth working to find some spit to moisten her lips.

"I must be hallucinating," Wendy announced to the trees above her, her brain registering that it appeared to be sometime in the afternoon, the air pleasantly warm against her bare feet. Suddenly aware that she appeared to be only wearing her nightgown and nothing else, Wendy attempted to move, lifting her arms up to inspect them before rolling onto her side.

"TRACE!" The boy's high pitched wail brought a patter of feet into the clearing. While Wendy fought to get upright, a group of boys encircled her, their weapons all pointed with menacing intent. Sitting up at last, Wendy lifted her hand to sweep back her hair and stared at the children now around her.

"Oh....er...hello?"

"'oo are you an' what are you doin' 'ere?"

The boy that had asked was slightly taller than the others, but not by much, his green eyes hostile in his dirty face.

"I am Wendy and I don't know where here is."

The boys all exchanged looks, shifting slightly but not lowering their weapons.

"Grups aren't allowed 'ere....how did you get 'ere?"

"I have no idea. Would you mind not pointing those...things at me, it's very rude."

"Yup....she's a grup." Pronounced on of the boys solemnly, much head nodding following that statement. Wendy moved, tucking her legs under her to rise on to her knees. As one the boys moved back, the sound of bow strings stretching in readiness to shoot making her hold her hands up in surrender.

"Please....I won't harm you....don't shoot me!"

"You're a grup.....grups aren't allowed on the island." One of the boys repeated.

"So you said.....what island is this?"

The boys exchanged another looks, this time more puzzled than hostile.

"'ow can you not now the name of this island....you're on it?"

"Yes...I think we've established that....but I don't know where here is, or how I got here...so if you could just tell me where I am?"

"You're on Neverland lady." One of the boys answered, lowering his weapon despite a glare from the taller boy.

Wendy stared back at him, her mouth working but temporarily robbed of speech. Swallowing hard, she tried again.

"Neverland?"

"'course. Where else would ya be?"

"But....but......I....."

"I suppose we could take her as our prisoner." One of the boys suggested, some of the others nodding their heads in agreement.

"Shut up Fetter....she's a grup, and grups know the penalty for stepping foot 'ere."

"Penalty?" Wendy asked faintly, her hand rising to her throat as the boys suddenly looked grim. One drew his grubby finger across his throat in an unmistakable gesture.

"She's not like the usual grups......I reckon we should take her to Peter."

On hearing that name Wendy made to stand up, but the boys instantly returned to their hostile stance and she subsided back on to the leaf strewn ground.

"He's not back yet." The tall boy informed the company.

"Then we take her as our prisoner until he returns. All those in favor?" The one called Fetter held up his hand and all but the leader Crash, followed suit. Crash just scowled horribly, but didn't stop the others from lowering their weapons and approaching Wendy with a length of rope and a blindfold.

"Sorry to do this lady.....but you're our prisoner 'til Peter decides what's to be done with ya."

Still hardly able to comprehend that she was somehow in Neverland, Wendy mutely held out her wrists and one boy bound them, securing her hands without cutting off the circulation. Another held out a length of grubby cloth which he flung over her head and covered her eyes with, knotting it behind her head.

Small hands steadied her as she scrambled inelegantly to her feet, Wendy swaying slightly as she found her balance. She could just see out the bottom of the blindfold and this gave her a measure of courage as the boys started to lead her out of the glade and along a forest path.

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"She's here." Stubbs announced in lugubrious tones.

"Here? In Neverland?"

"Dropped somewhere in the interior I imagine."

"Damn....any idea where?"

"Won't know unless the book shows us.....or you sweet talk the fairies into letting you know."

"Damn and blast."

Stubbs watched his Captain pace the deck, his long legs carrying him back and forth in front of the ship's wheel, the seaman on duty ignoring the figure passing in front of his post.

"What are you're orders sir?" Asked Stubbs.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It's too soon....if she see's me like this, she's get all the wrong idea."

"Didn't you tell me she wanted to be a pirate once?"

"What of it?"

"Well?" Stubbs shrugged his massive shoulders.

"That's not the point...she won't understand."

"You think she'll prefer the memory over reality."

"Something like that."

Stubbs rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

"Then what's the problem....just bat those baby blues and sweep her off her feet."

His Captain snorted and laughed out loud. The seamen at the wheel studiously stared straight ahead.

"I think you over estimate my powers of persuasion with the opposite sex."

"It worked last time."

"We were children then.....I don't know."

Stubbs threw up his hands in frustration.

"Then leave her for Hook to find....he'll find a use for her."

In a blur of movement, Stubbs found himself backed up against the railing, his Captains arm against his throat and a pair of glittering eyes boring into his own.

"If he touches her....."

"Woah...Captain..." Stubbs wheezed, the pressure on his throat cutting off the air.

Instantly the arm was removed and its owner stalked off again to pace in front of the wheel.

Rubbing his sore Adam's apple, Stubbs cautiously approached the angry young man prowling like a tiger.

"The book'll tell us where she is....and we go get her....simple."

"Neverland is not exactly the best place for Wendy to be."

"But nevertheless, that's where she be. Your orders Captain?"

"Set a course for Castle Rock cove, we'll land there and set off in search of her, it's as good a place to start as any."

"Aye, aye sir....set a course south, southwest helmsman."

Stubbs approached the young man standing rigidly by the rail and patted him on the shoulder.

"We'll find her son.....don't ya worry."

"Hah!...There's ample reason to worry, Stubbs....we have to find her before anyone else does!"

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The trip to the boys campsite didn't take long and soon Wendy was released from the blindfold and told to sit down. One of her captors brought her a half coconut shell filled with water which she drank gratefully. Another brought over a plate made of tree bark covered in a variety of fruit which she accepted, eating daintily with her bound hands as the boys watched her avidly.

Amused by their curiosity Wendy smiled at the boys, some of them shyly smiling back. Crash kept his forbidding scowl in place and sat with his bow still at the ready, his head turning frequently, obviously hoping for their leaders' return before too long.

Wendy was content to sit and wait, her abused feet, unaccustomed to tramping barefoot through the forest, were bruised from the twigs and rocks along the path. She had felt her heart lurch when the boys had mentioned Peter, a blush heating her face as she remembered what she'd done aboard the Jolly Roger. It had been only a little kiss, but she'd put all her heart into it, the results quite spectacular with Peter turning pink and zooming off into the sky like a firework.

As she sat listening to the boys' chatter, she tried to figure out her last memory before waking in Neverland. All she could recall was her head hitting the pillow, then nothing. She supposed the extraordinary book had something to do with it and she fumed at being plucked so precipitously from her life and carried back without her permission to Neverland once more. She assumed, quite rightly, that Peter had gathered together a new collection of Lost Boys to keep him company. Wendy felt a little piqued that he'd forgotten about her and her brothers, as well as the original Lost boys. And what was this business about "grups" not being allowed on the island? Surely the Indian's were "grups" too, and what about Hook's pirates? With Hook gone, didn't they live on Neverland now?

A cry brought all musing and conversations to a halt as every boy lifted his head to listen, Wendy as well. The raucous crow came again only closer and the boys scrabbled to their feet, forming up into a ragged line, pulling and tugging at their skins and rags in readiness for some sort of inspection. A rush of wind announced the arrival of their leader who landed behind Wendy with a thump, but before she could turn around a knife appeared at her throat and a youthful voice demanded to know what was going on.

"She's our prisoner Peter." Crash answered, saluting raggedly.

"Some prisoner....she's a grup and should be dead."

Alarmed at the pressure of the blade, Wendy tried to speak, but the boy behind her must have heard her intake of breath because the blade pressed closer and Wendy clamped her lips together to shut off the question she's been about to ask. The boys facing her, still in their ragged line, all looked frightened. Wendy wasn't sure whether they were frightened for her, or of Peter.

"She's a lady Peter....we didn't want to kill her before you met her." Fetter piped up, his eyes darting from Wendy's to the boy behind her.

"All grups are dangerous..haven't I drummed that in to you all yet?"

"Of course you have Peter...but....she's a lady." Fetter argued.

"Doesn't matter...ladies are the worst grups."

At this Wendy decided it was time to make herself heard.

"Peter...it's me...Wendy...please put that ridiculous knife down."

To the boys surprise, the knife was lowered and removed, allowing Wendy to twist around and face her attacker.

"Peter...it's.....me...." Wendy's voice tailed off as she faced the boy called Peter, her eyes registering that the owner of the name was a complete stranger to her, his eyes the wrong colour, his hair the wrong shade. "You're not Peter!"

"'Course he's Peter!" One of the boys scoffed, their leader silently regarding Wendy with a scowl marring his features.

"Of course I'm Peter....Peter Pan...who else would I be?"

Wendy stared in confusion at the young man standing in front of her. He was an inch or two taller than the boy named Crash. He was clothed as she would have expected Peter to be, in leaves and skins, a sword hanging from his belt. But that was where the similarity ended. This boy had a mane of wild black hair tied back in a rough queue with a bit of twine, his fringe almost blinding him until he swept it back with an impatient hand, revealing eyes that shone darkly. His skin was also dark, not golden, his black brows matching the thick lashes bordering his eyes giving him a very dashing look. In all he was the antithesis of the Peter she remembered as golden like the sun, all honey skin and sea blue eyes in a laughing face.

"You may call yourself Peter Pan....but you look nothing like him." Wendy stated, turning her back on the youth, fighting the urge to cry.

"What would you know grup? You're just a stupid grup and now I'll kill you."

Before Peter could draw back his knife to strike the other boys suddenly swarmed around Wendy, Fetter standing between her back and their leader.

"We've never 'ad a lady 'ere before.....I think we should take 'er back to meet Berry."

Placing his hands on his hips Peter tried to stare the boys down, all but Crash holding their ground as Peter paced back and forth in front, his eyes flashing fire. Abruptly his mood changed, the youth throwing back his head and letting go a whoop of laughter before slamming his sword back into its scabbard and leaping into the air.

"If you want her.....you can have her. Let it be Berry's decision what's done with her."

Before anyone could speak he'd gone, shooting up into the sky and out of sight. There was a collective sigh and the boys drooped visibly.

"That was a close run thing.....we was lucky this time." One of the boys muttered, the others nodding in agreement.

"Geez Fetter....I hope one grup is worth the hiding you're gonna get for standing up to him," said Crash, turning on his heel and marching away.

Fetter shrugged his skinny shoulders and hooked his bow over his shoulder before turning to walk around Wendy.

"He's all bluff an' bluster....mostly."

Wendy had remained a silent witness, her fate held in the hands of a group of grubby boys. "Thank you." She said quietly, still in shock to find her memory played so false.

"Come on.....Berry will know what to do....she 'as Peter wrapped around her little finger."

Wearily Wendy, still bound, allowed the boys to pull her up and on to her feet, her face betraying the pain of bruises and cuts sustained on the trek so far. Pressing her lips together she followed the boys out of the campsite and along another path, the trip blessedly short this time. As the boys parted the undergrowth Wendy saw a massive tree set in the middle of a clearing, the ground around its' roots strewn with flowers and humps of bright green moss. A vine hanging down raised a door set in the trunk and Wendy followed the boys into the tree, bending down to avoid bumping her head. This time there was no painful slide, just a series of steps cut into the earth that led down to a wide room cut into the ground, in and around the roots of the tree. The smell of something delicious cooking assailed Wendy as she unbent to her full height and she heard her stomach rumble in anticipation. The boys were similarly afflicted and darted around her to bound across the room to a curtained alcove, calling out to the person beyond.

Wendy sank gratefully onto a crude wooden bench that ran the length of the rough hewn table set in the middle of the room. The table was strewn with the stumps of candles scattered amongst the remains of their last meal, bowls and cups laying where they'd been left.

"I'm Berry."

The softly spoken voice jerked Wendy from her musing, her eyes encountering wondering mossy brown that stared from a pretty face framed by long, straight black braids.

"You're one of the Indians?" Wendy blurted out in her surprise, blushing at her own rudeness even as the girl laughed.

"Yes...yes I am. And where have you come from Wendy Lady?"

"Another world......London, to be precise."

"London? I have not heard of that place...it is not in Neverland I think."

"No....definitely not in Neverland." Wendy straightened herself and held out her hands. "I believe it's been left to you to decided what to do with me."

Holding Wendy's gaze for a moment, Berry seemed to ponder for a moment before reaching behind her back and producing a wickedly sharp bowie knife. With a flick she cut the ropes binding Wendy's hands, ignoring the girls' uncontrollable flinch as the knife flashed in front of her face.

"Peter....ack, I can't call him that....it's not his real name anyway. Tomas is not normally so violent...he just doesn't like grups."

"Tomas?"

"The new Peter Pan.....he was the first to arrive, so he became the new Pan, the others came not long afterwards."

"Oh....I once new a boy called Peter who was the Pan then....but it was a very long time ago."

Berry slid her knife back into the holder at the back of her belt before sitting down on the bench beside Wendy.

"Then he must have been the old Pan.....they do change, you know." Said Berry, fiddling with one of her beaded braids.

"You don't seem surprised that I've been here before."

"Why should I be.....if you were not meant to return, you would not be here."

Blinking, Wendy tried to unravel the girls logic.

"Meant to return?"

"Of course.....did you not want to be here?"

For a moment Wendy could only open and close her mouth, not at all sure of her answer. Shaking her head she decided to leave that question unanswered and return to something else.

"You said the Old Pan, that they change....how do you know this?"

"It is told, a story of our tribe...handed down from parent to child, the old to the young, through many generations."

"How many Pan's have there been?"

"Not many....Tomas is only the third in recorded memory of the tribe."

"Berry.....what happened to the old Pan..the one I knew?"

"I do not know......I was only very little at that time. You'd have to meet with my mother to know that story."

"Your Mother...but I understood from the boys....um..that grups weren't allowed on Neverland."

"They're not....according to Tomas's ruling. But that doesn't mean they don't. The constant battles to evict the grups is what give the boys something to do."

"Oh....I see.....I think. So there are grups, but the boys are trying to get rid of them. Has anyone ever been killed in these battles?"

Berry laughed at Wendy's worried expression.

"You're such a grup.....no one has been killed on Neverland since the great change."

"The Great change?"

"Later...I must get the boys' meal ready. Would you like to help?"

"If I can."

Berry rose to her feet and swung her legs over the bench. "If you can chop vegetables you can help."

"I think I can manage to do that. Thank you Berry."

"What for?"

"Well....for not killing me for starters."

Berry laughed, her braids swinging as she swung around. "Tomas is very naughty to tease you. He was probably just surprised, we don't usually get to capture lady grups very often."

"Oh....I'll have to take your word on that Berry."

"Come along Wendy Lady...the vegetables are waiting."

Feeling distinctly out of place, Wendy clambered off the bench and followed the slim Indian girl across the room and behind the curtain, her fate, for the time being, apparently settled.

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"Well......what did you find?"

"Nothing.......she's gone....there was only the book."

The man withdrew the slim volume from his coat and handed it over to his employer.

"Damn....I expected to have more time. I'll have to return immediately. Our plans have changed Grant. Pack it up and dispose of the car, we leave tonight."

"Are we likely to return?"

"Very unlikely unless we can get to her before he does. You have your orders."

"Yes sir."

Hook waited for his minion to leave before opening the book. He placed it on the desk, staring for a moment at the cover, willing the coin medallion to come to life. When it remained dull and inanimate he used his hook to open the cover, flipping to the first page and reading the heading.

"Of Clocks, Crooks and Crocodiles." Hook read aloud, smiling thinly at the humor of the title. "Very funny I'm sure."

Turning the pages he saw images of himself from several years ago battling a boy with golden hair and a flashing sword. "I know this fairytale and it doesn't have a happy ending."

Snapping the book closed, Hook lifted it and slid it inside his jacket, tucking it into an inner pocket. Smoothing the material down he patted the slightly raised lump before getting to his feet.

If he was to return to Neverland, there was much to be done.

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The meal was boisterous and riotous, the boys cheerfully stealing food from each other's plates and pelting each other with the remnants. Wendy and Berry sat at either end of the table and regarded the boys with amused tolerance, Wendy smiling as their antics reminded her of the meals she used to enjoy with the Lost Boys so many years ago.

A loud crow announced Tomas's arrival into the hollow tree, his presence causing the noise level to rise to a roar as the boys cheered their leader. Tomas studiously avoided looking at Wendy but marched to the other end of the table to face Berry. He performed a creditable bow before leaning forward and giving the girl a swift kiss on the cheek which set Berry blushing.

"Any left for me?" Tomas asked, still ignoring Wendy.

Berry rose to her feet and hurried over to a shelf where she'd saved a portion of the meal for him. Tomas seated himself in her vacated chair and finally looked down the table at the newcomer.

"She's still alive then." He stated flatly, his dark eyes fixed on Wendy even when Berry placed a plate in front of him.

"Her name is Wendy." Berry reproved him, drawing his attention by tugging a lock of his untidy hair.

"Ow....hey, what was that for?"

"For teasing Wendy and for being rude."

"Rude?"

"You were staring."

"Was not."

Berry didn't bother to argue, just rolled her eyes and turned away from him. A brown arm shot out and gathered her around the waist, pulling her back to the table and propelling her into his lap.

Wendy tried to hide the smile threatening to break out, concentrating on the food in front of her and doing her best to ignore the giggling and horseplay taking place at the end of the table.

The boys ignored it all, obviously used to the byplay and not prepared to let it intrude on their meal. With their leaders' arrival the boys started to leave the table, drifting away to other parts of the room, either to play games on the floor or collapse on their rough beds for a well earned nap.

Wendy started to gather the plates, collecting the scraps together in one of the larger bowls but almost dropped the lot when Tomas banged sharply on the table top with the hilt of his dagger.

"There's no room for you here grup....Berry has decided to let you live, but you can't stay here."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Wendy replied stiffly, placing the dishes back on the table and drawing herself up. "If you'll just point me in the direction of the Indian village I'll go there."

"Tomas..." Berry started to speak but shut her mouth when Tomas turned to glare at her, slashing the air with the side of his hand.

"I'm not going to risk any of us to guide you.....you're a grup, you find you're own way."

"But Tomas...."Berry tried again, a single finger held up to silence her this time. Infuriated, Berry flashed him an angry look and stalked off across the room to the curtain, brushing it aside and leaving him sitting at the table.

"Thank you for the food Tomas..." said Wendy politely.

"My name's Peter Pan." Tomas interrupted, leaping to his feet, his dark eyes flashing.

"If you say so....er...Peter. I'll go now."

"Good." Sitting back down, Tomas turned his head away and didn't watch as Wendy made her way to the sloping entrance. The other boys watched her with solemn faces as she turned one last time to smile at them, lifting her hand in a small wave before bending down and walking back up the passageway to the outside.

The boys waited for her to go out of sight before all talking at once. Tomas endured the babble of voice for a few seconds before once more bringing the hilt of his dagger down on the table like a gavel.

"No more....what's done is done."

Not willing to force a confrontation the boys went back to their pursuits. Fetter bit his lip for a moment before making his way to his sleeping mat, carefully lifting his knife from its hiding place. Working unobtrusively he hid his possessions about his person before rising to his feet and nonchalantly walking across to one of the ways out of the tree.

"Fetter?" Tomas' voice halted him in mid step.

"I need to pee." Fetter explained glibly, raising an eyebrow when he looked over at his leader for permission to leave. For a moment he thought Tomas would refuse but he didn't, waving his hand to release Fetter.

"Don't be long....we need to make plans for tomorrow."

"Back in a tick then." Fetter waved and scampered up one of the smaller tunnels to the outside, his heart hammering in his chest.

Once outside he looked about but Wendy had already left the vicinity of the huge tree. Scouting the ground he soon found her larger footprints leading off along one of the paths. Grinning to himself he paused momentarily to check his weapons, his fingers digging into a concealed pocket to pull out something that spun slowly on a gold chain as it hung from his decidedly grubby fingers. The acorn looked as fresh and green as if it had been plucked from the oak only that day, the hole showing the white flesh of the nut inside. Inspecting it, Fetter knew he'd seen the symbol of an acorn before, the flag bearing the design even now probably anchored somewhere off the coast of Neverland.

Tucking the pendant back into his pocket, Fetter looked down at the footprints once more before setting off to follow the Wendy Lady.

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9/09/05

Chapter: Four - Hide and Seek

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Wendy crouched down into the ferns as far as she could go. The birds had warned her someone was coming and their shrill cries snapped her out of the daydream she'd been in, her feet carrying her she knew not where while her brain tried to unravel the mystery of her arrival in Neverland. She could hear voices approaching and tried to hunker down further into the greenery. The ferns grew very tall and lush and she hoped the men, whoever they were, would just pass on by. The tramp of boots on the leafy trail were loud and she held her breath, willing them to pass her without noticing.

"We'll have to call it a day soon....the suns dipping fast."

"We have to find her...."

"Not much use trying to in the dark......unless..."

"Unless what?"

"The fairies?"

"I ask too much of them as it is."

"Just a suggestion Captain."

Wendy could hear their voices clearly from her hiding place, her brow wrinkling as she strained to hear more, never once considering that it might be her they were seeking. Lifting her head, she could just see through the fronds to the path, the men passing steadily, but not urgently. The one in front was a tall, broad shouldered man dressed as she's expect a Captain to be, his trousers tucked into tall boots while his brown stuff coat was over-slung with a wide belt from which a sword dangled along with a brace of pistols. His hat was pulled well down on his head and he appeared to be wearing a black bandanna tied over his hair, as well as over the top half of his face leaving only his mouth and clean shaven chin visible above the collar of his shirt. Suspecting that the bandanna hid some deformity, Wendy passed on to the man following. He was taller than the Captain, his clothes not nearly so fine, in fact almost ragged, his broad torso crisscrossed by leather straps carrying an assortment of lethal looking weapons, his thick arms bare and sporting a wealth of colourful tattoos down the length of each limb, ending in fists that looked big enough to fell an ox.

Behind the leaders followed an assortment of their pirate crew, all dressed in oddments of clothing that looked surprisingly clean for such a motley collection of humanity. A bird suddenly flew up from behind Wendy's hiding place and she quickly ducked down as the men all stopped and stared across the meadow of ferns to where the bird flapped noisily away, its alarm call fading into the distance.

Unable to see what was happening, Wendy could only strain her ears to get a hint of what the men were doing. She could here hushed voices and prayed that they were moving along. A sudden yell and a scuffled almost caused her to scream in fright but it was someone else that the men caught several feet from her own haven.

"It's one of the boys Captain!"

"Bring him here....he may be able to tell us something."

Trembling Wendy could hear a string of curses issuing from the captive, presumably one of the Lost Boys that she'd left back at the tree. Lifting her head once more she cautiously stared through the fronds and watched as one of the burly sailors carried the kicking child towards the Captain who stood with his arms crossed, still standing on the path.

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Fetter struggled against the arm holding him around his middle, leaving his legs free to kick impotently with his arms trapped against his side. Twisting his head he tried to bite the arm of his captor but couldn't quite reach. As his teeth snapped together with an audible click the man holding him suddenly tilted him upright and swung him around so that he landed on his bare feet hard on the ground. Two hands clamped themselves on his skinny shoulders and Fetter tried to shrug himself free, quite unsuccessfully.

"Wotcha mean, manhandling me like that.....I'm not a bleedin' parcel!"

"What's your name boy?" Asked Stubbs, leaning over the boy in a threatening manner.

"You don't scare me, you big ape.......go boil ya head!"

"Feisty scrapper....should we just hang him now, or have some sport first?"

Fetter swallowed hard and turned his head to face the man in the black bandanna, the Captains eyes boring into his own from behind the mask.

"It's Fetter....sir....and please don't 'ang me....I 'aven't had my supper yet."

The Captain let out a burst of laughter, echoed by his crew.

"Okay Fetter....I won't hang you this time. What can you tell me about any strangers in these parts?"

"Strangers?"

"A woman to be precise......long, honey coloured hair, blue eyes, pretty...have you seen her?"

"Oh.....that woman....maybe I have, maybe I haven't.....depends."

Fetter suddenly found himself hoisted into the air and turned upside down, his ankles gripped by the first mate who shook him roughly, the boys belongings raining down on the path like misshapen droplets as he yelled his surprise.

One article instantly caught the Captains eye and he bent down to snatch up a length of gold chain holding a curious pendant.

"Now where did you get this Fetter?"

"I didn't steal it....I'm not a thief?"

At a signal from the Captain, the first mate turned the boy over and set him on his feet again, Fetter swaying as he fought to regain his balance after hanging upside down.

"If you're not a thief then you'll tell me where you found this trinket."

"It's her's."

The Captain crouched down to bring him face to face with his captive.

"I know....now where did you find it?" Placing his hand on the boys shoulder, the Captain smiled encouragingly at him, Fetter finding himself smiling back. "I won't harm her, I want to keep her safe, but I can't do that if somebody else finds her first. Now where is she?"

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Wendy watched in horror as the boy turned his head and lifted his arm, pointing directly to where she was hiding in the ferns. The pirates also turned to look, all eyes on the patch of greenery hiding her.

Scrambling to her feet and not bothering to look back, Wendy took off at a run, her skirts hitched up around her knees as she sprinted as fast as she could towards the trees, jumping over clumps of the ferns, her breath rasping in her throat.

She managed to reach the trees and darted into the coolness of the shadows, her hair flying out behind her as she dodged around a fallen trunk, the leafless branches catching at her gown and hair. Behind her she could here the sound of boots pounding the ground in pursuit, her heart leaping into her throat as she frantically searched the woods for a hiding place. Darting a glance over her shoulder she saw the masked Captain vault a fallen tree and she almost shrieked in fright, her terror lending wings to her feet as she darted left and right, branches snatching at her as she pushed her way through a thicket and burst into a clearing. She could no longer hear the sounds of pursuit above the pounding of her heart and thought, for a few brief seconds that she had lost him.

A moment later she found out she hadn't when someone tackled her from behind, a hard male body wrapping his arms around her as she fell headlong, twisting at the last moment so that he impacted the ground first before rolling them both over, again and again, eventually coming to rest in the long grass.

Wendy lay on her back, winded, her breath heaving in her chest, her vision blurred with tears of fright and frustration. Beside her, her captor also lay breathing heavily from his exertions. Rolling on to her knees, Wendy tried to get up only to find his hand wrapped around her ankle, shackling her and preventing her from rising. She kicked out and tried to dislodge him, but he simply grabbed the flailing foot and stilled that as well.

"Let me go you brute....unhand me at once!"

Rising to his knees, her captor let go of her ankles and reached for his hat which had been knocked off in the fall. Wendy quickly scooted backwards but her gown became caught and she fell onto her side.

"Here....let me help you." The voice had a thread of laughter in it and Wendy felt anger start to well up inside her.

"Don't touch me...you...you.....brigand!"

"Such melodrama.....you should've tried for a career on the stage."

"Don't laugh at me!" Wendy shouted at him, her fear forgotten in the face of his mockery. Realizing belatedly that she must look an absolute fright, Wendy tried to straighten her night gown, embarrassed to be showing far more leg than was decent, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

"I wasn't laughing at you....well, only a little." He grinned at her, beating the dust off his hat before putting it back on over his black bandanna. "Give me your hand and I'll help you up."

"I can manage myself...I suppose I'm your prisoner now."

"You suppose correctly...will I have to bind and gag you?"

"That won't be necessary....once in a day is quite enough for anybody."

The young man looked at her quizzically, but Wendy only lifted her chin and stared back at him. Rising to his feet he held out his hand to her, Wendy hesitating before placing her fingers against his palm. With a quick yank he pulled her to her feet. She stumbled and fell against him her hands flattening against his chest as he steadied her.

Under her fingers she could feel his chest move as he breathed, the faint patter of his heart before she shoved against him and moved back.

For a brief moment she had stared into his eyes, her own clear blue meeting his shadowed green, a jolt seemingly jumping the short distance between their bodies like a current of energy and causing her heart to jerk before she moved away.

"Come on....my men will be wondering what is taking me so long."

Seizing her wrist he pulled her along beside him, his long strides causing her to almost run to keep up with him. The trip back to the path beside the ferns took no time at all and Wendy found herself the object of a dozen pairs of curious eyes, not least of which was Fetter standing grinning beside the burly first mate.

"I was about to send a search party for you," the first mate said, a smug smile curving his mouth.

"Stow it, Mister Stubbs," frowned the Captain, wiping the smile from his first mates face.

"We're for the ship," ordered the Captain, his men instantly turning back the way they'd come, gathering up the bundles they'd set down when Fetter had been caught.

Still holding Wendy by the wrist, the Captain signaled for Fetter to come forward. Bending down, the man spoke to the boy.

"I thank you for your service....if ever a life at sea lures you away from the trees..."

"I prefer dry land...thank's anyway."

"Then begone brat....before I decided to hang you after all!"

Not bothering to answer, Fetter took to his heels, the men laughing as he scampered out of sight with a cheeky grin and a wave.

"You wouldn't really have hung him.....would you?"

The Captain turned to look at his captive, her eyes wide with horror at the thought that he would harm a child. He only shrugged and turned away, tugging her along without answering her.

Wendy pulled against his hand, her head twisting to see back the way she'd come, Fetter already lost to sight amongst the dense trees.

"I can always get Stubbs to put you over his shoulder....if you continue to slow me down, that is."

Turning back to face him, Wendy all but bared her teeth at him, her back straight as she held her arm out to keep him as far away as possible.

"I prefer to walk without your restraint. You've already shown you can catch me if I try to run, so please release me."

Despite not being able to see his eyebrows, Wendy knew that the Captain was surprised, looking down at their still joined hands, his fingers slowly letting her go as if only just realizing that he still held her captive.

"You haven't told me your name?" He asked suddenly, his hand now resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Why do you need to know it?"

"It would make conversation more comfortable....but if you don't want to tell me, I can always give you a new name." He turned away and started to follow after his men along the trail, the burly Mister Stubbs bringing up the rear. "How about Bessy, or Daisy or Buttercup?"

"I'm not a cow, for heaven's sake...." Wendy muttered, having difficulty hiding a her chagrin.

"What about Petunia, or Rose.....Lily?"

"First a cow, then a flower....my name is Wendy. Wendy Moira Angela Darling if you must know." She stared haughtily at a spot between his shoulder blades.

"Wendy.....Wendy...." Her name rolled off his tongue like a caress and she flushed angrily.

"Now you know my name.....what is yours? I would now who I am prisoner of, if you please."

"And if I don't please?"

Wendy pressed her lips together and turned her head, studiously admiring the trees and bushes.

"I'm known as Captain Black in these waters....that should satisfy your curiosity...for now."

As if tired of the bantering, the Captain strode on ahead, passing several of his men to make his way to the front of the column, leaving Wendy with the looming presence of Stubbs at her back.

With him gone, Wendy slumped with tiredness, the long day taking its toll on her strength and her reeling senses. They hadn't traveled for more than half an hour before she stumbled, Stubbs catching her before she hit the ground, instantly calling for Captain Black to attend.

"What is it?" He called impatiently, marching back down to line.

"She's all done in.....reckon she can't walk another step." Stubbs explained, gesturing to Wendy sitting slumped on a log beside the trail. Noting her pale face and tightly held mouth, he nodded to his first mate before divesting himself of his pistols and sword, handing them to Stubbs for safe keeping.

Wendy heard him coming and rose to her feet, expecting him to order her onwards. Instead she found herself swept off her feet and hoisted into his arms, her own automatically clasping his neck and clinging with surprise.

"What are you doing?"

Already walking, the Captain merely pursed his lips and glanced sideways at her, shifting her slightly in his arms to improve his grip.

Wendy looked over his shoulder, back to Stubbs, who was grinning like a madman, one eyelid dropping in a wink as Wendy caught his gaze. She quickly looked away.

Being held so close she could feel the hard muscles in his arms shifting against her back and legs, his own covering the ground in an effortless stride as if he was carrying nothing more taxing than an armful of feathers.

She supposed she should really complain and ask to be put down, but in all truthfulness her feet hurt appallingly and every limb seemed to ache with tiredness. After the first few steps, when she was sure he'd drop her, she started to relax, her head dropping to her arm where it rested on his shoulder.

Feeling his burden relax in his arms, her body molding to his own, Captain Black smiled to himself with smug satisfaction, his eyes gleaming behind the concealing black silk of his hasty disguise.

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"The Nymph's been sighted Captain....berthed in Castle Rock cove."

Hook shifted his double cigar holder from one side of his mouth to the other, his eyes finding the cove on his map, the tip of his hook tracing into the interior of Neverland.

"So Smee.....the hunt is on. Tell the helm to set a course for Sea Gull Bluff, we'll anchor there behind the headland overnight. If he's found her, we'll set an ambush and take what we want."

"Won't he be expecting that?" Smee asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Of course....this is an old game, just with a new prize. Get about your business Smee, and send Grant to me."

"Yes sir, Captain sir." executing a shaky salute, the old man left Hook to his plotting, conveying the message to the quartermaster before heading for the bridge and the helmsman.

Hook tapped the ash from his cigars before clamping the holder once more between his teeth, a cloud of pungent smoke curling around his dark head.

"Whatever you have, I will take.....prepare thee well, Peter Pan."

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They made camp before full dark, Captain Black seating Wendy on a log covered with a thick blanket, his men well organized and quickly creating a secure campsite for the night. A small fire burned near to where Wendy sat and she welcomed the warmth now that the sun had dipped below the trees, plunging the forest into gloom, chill air seeping through the thinness of her nightgown. Unbelievably tired, Wendy wanted nothing more than to find herself back in her comfortable bed and being fussed over by her Aunt. Thinking of that dear lady brought tears to her eyes and a lump to her throat, a wave of homesickness making it hard to bite back the sobs threatening to break free. She stared into the flames and fought for control, not noticing the activity around her or the man watching her.

"You'll be aboard the Nymph tomorrow, a mite more comfortable than sleeping under the stars."

Wendy started at the sound his voice, her hand coming up to scrub at the wetness on her face.

"Is that your ship?"

"Yes."

"This is all so odd....I think I must be dreaming, but I've never had such a....a vivid dream before."

"This is no dream Wendy....you're here in Neverland, it's now night and I have food for you."

Looking up from her contemplation of her hands, Wendy saw him holding out a bowl that steamed in the cool air.

"Thank you." She sniffed appreciatively at the meaty broth before taking a cautious sip. Captain Black seated himself with his back against the log and drank from his own bowl, his hat discarded but the mask firmly in place.

Cradling her bowl in her hands, Wendy licked her lips and braced herself before speaking.

"You're not treating me much like I'd expect pirates to treat a prisoner."

"You mean with manacles and whips, rapine and pillage?"

"Something like that.....you were looking for me...why?"

"I didn't want you to fall into....let's say, the wrong hands."

"You mean Hook, don't you?" She saw him nod his head. "But surely he's dead?"

"Not even close."

"But the crocodile?"

"Ah yes.....the poor ol' croc. He didn't live long enough to enjoy his last meal."

"Oh." She drank some more of the cooling broth, her eyes once more staring into the flames. "Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly....although I give no guarantees I'll give you the answer you want."

"What happened to Peter Pan?"

"Haven't you already met him?"

"I met a boy named Tomas, who said he was Peter Pan....but he's not the Peter I knew when I last visited this island."

Staring down into his bowl, Captain Black swirled the contents before speaking again.

"What do you remember of this Peter Pan that you knew?"

Wendy smiled to herself. "Oh he was brash and arrogant, full of his own importance and unbearably smug."

"He sounds a scoundrel."

"He was, but he was also brave and courageous and could handle a sword very competently."

"You knew him well?"

"No...hardly at all, really....but he liked my stories and brought me here to be a mother to the Lost Boys."

"What did you want?"

"I was but a girl then.....I was flattered that he wanted to hear my fairy tales, and it was exciting....exhilarating to be able to fly."

She paused, staring at the flames of the fire, remembering her last visit. "We fought pirates, saved a princess, danced with the fairies." She sighed heavily. "But he never came back.....now it seems that he's gone from here...I just wanted to know what happened to him."

"He's still here.....somewhere. Maybe you'll get to meet your Peter Pan again."

Wendy turned to regard the Captain as he tilted up his bowl to drain the dregs.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"I told you......to prevent you falling into the wrong hands."

"What does it matter to you....what possibly importance am I to this place?"

"Lets just say, I like to hold on to what is mine."

Before Wendy could reply to his puzzling remark he had risen to his feet and stalked away, tossing the bowl to one of his men to refill it. Shivering slightly, Wendy watched him hunker down to enjoy his second helping, his back to his prisoner.

"Here miss....wrap this around you, it can get cold at night."

Wendy looked up gratefully and took the blanket held out by the burly Mister Stubbs. Wrapping it around her shoulders she stared once more into the flames, the warm meal and leaping fire lulling her to sleep. Her head jerked up when the first mate spoke.

"He'll not harm you miss."

"Then why am I his prisoner?"

"To keep you safe, is all."

"Safe from what?" Wendy asked, frustration making her voice sharp.

"There are things you don't....can't know."

"Tell me."

"Not my place miss...the Captain'll bring you up to date in good time."

"Oh really....you're worse than him." She jerked her head in the direction of the Captain. "It's like pulling teeth getting anything useful out of either you!"

Stubbs chuckled, infuriating Wendy more. Getting to her feet she pulled the rug off the log and settled it on the ground before laying down on it and pulling the blanket around her ears.

To her surprise she fell asleep almost instantly, not feeling the extra blanket laid over her exposed feet by the man with the black bandanna.

Crouched beside her he watched her sleep, his hand reaching out to brush back a strand of errant hair that threatened to fall across her face.

"How long are you going to keep your identity from her?" Stubbs voice made him jump.

"Until I'm sure of her.....until I'm sure of myself."

Stubbs snorted in amusement, grunting as he turned over in his bedroll.

Rising to his feet Captain Black checked on the night watch before finding his own bedroll and turning in for the night.

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The noise of the men packing up their temporary camp woke Wendy, the sun already well up. Folding her bedding neatly, she handed it to a sailor who came for it, watching as the fires left burning through the night were extinguished, the men disappearing into the bushes then reappearing after taking care of their morning ablutions. Wendy felt a pressing need herself but felt embarrassed drawing attention to herself.

"We don't have far to go, but you might want to....er...freshen up before we start?" The Captain's voice made her jump and she turned to face him.

"Thank you....that would be appreciated."

He indicated for her to follow him, a path leading them to a small brook and a stand of sheltering bushes.

"I'll be just down the path, call when you're.....um...ready."

She watched as he spun on his heel and walked down the track, swallowed up by the trees almost at once.

Bending down she splashed her face and washed her hands before finding a convenient spot to relieve herself. Once more comfortable she performed a hasty toilette, shaking her skirts to get the worst of the dust of them. She heartily wished she had something more substantial than her nightdress to wear, despite its practical design and sensible coverage. Sighing, she tucked her hair behind her ears having nothing to brush it with, hoping that it didn't look too disheveled.

"Um....I'm ready." She called, the Captain appearing almost at once.

They arrived back at the camp to find everything ready to go, the men standing waiting for their Captain to give the signal to move off.

"Do you want to be carried again?"

Wendy blushed and shook her head. "I'll walk thank you."

Shrugging, Captain Black turned away, Wendy biting her lip to quell the urge to call him back and ask to be held in his arms again. Angry at herself for thinking such ridiculous thoughts, she tilted her chin and stared straight ahead, falling in behind the sailors, Mister Stubbs behind her as before.

They reached the beach before the sun had time to clear the trees, the sound of the waves clearly audible before they could see any water. Wendy held up her hand to shield her eyes, staring out at the ship anchored in the bay. Two boats lay pulled up on the sand clear of the surf, the sailors already turning them over and preparing to haul them down to the water's edge. Wendy squinted up at the sky, the sun warm on her face after the cool night, her hair blown back by a stiff breeze that molded her nightgown to her figure. Unaware that she was revealing more that she would have wanted to, had she known, Wendy stood on the sand, eyes closed as her toes burrowed into the soft surface, her lungs breathing deeply of the clean sea air. Captain Black stood looking back up the beach, his eyes drinking in the sight, the breeze plastering the thin gown to Wendy's legs and body, revealing her shapely limbs and enticing figure.

Wendy opened her eyes and instantly became aware of several appreciative male eyes turned in her direction. Captain Black stood a little way off, his hands on his hips, a grin stretching his mouth wide. Feeling her gown flap about her legs, Wendy looked down and only then realised how revealing the wind was making her clothes. Blushing in mortification, she turned, the wind billowing her nightdress and once more clothing her in decency. The men turned back to their work, but Captain Black remained where he was, waiting for Wendy to join him on the beach. She did so reluctantly, still burning from the heat of his admiring gaze.

"Would it be asking too much to find out why you were wandering around Neverland clad only in your nightgown?"

"I wasn't given a choice in garments.....I don't suppose you have women's clothes aboard your ship?"

"As it so happens....I might have something you'll find more suitable."

"I doubt is it could be any less." Wendy muttered, plucking at her gown as the wind caught it and threatened to lift it above her calves.

Leaning forward, Captain Black, still grinning, snagged a strand of her hair and wound it around a finger, holding her near as he spoke in her ear.

"I think what you're wearing has a charm all of its own."

Drawing in a sharp breath, Wendy turned her head to retort but found herself instead almost nose to nose with the Captain, his eyes glittering behind his scarf, his mouth relaxing from its wide grin as they traded stares, suspended in time until someone coughed and broke the spell.

"We're ready for you to board Captain." Mister Stubbs announced.

Wendy saw Captain Black open his mouth to reply but never heard him speak as she was thrown to the sand, yells and the report of pistols suddenly filling the air around her.

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Wendy stared upwards, finding herself shielded behind the Captain and his first mate, their booted feet shifting in the sand as they fought off a swarm of attackers, the sailors from the boats joining the fray as more of the enemy appeared from the trees. Wendy struggled to her feet, ducking when a pistol ball whizzed past her head, her hands clapped over her ears to blot out the sounds of the fighting as swords clashed and men screamed. Someone grabbed her arm and she screamed, finding herself dragged backwards towards the water.

"Get in the boat!" The Captain yelled at her, pushing her towards the long boats as he turned to fight off a fierce attack from two sides. Wendy stumbled then righted herself, picking up her skirts and running to the waterline. The sailors of the Nymph were starting to beat back the ambush, Stubbs roaring as he punched pirate, after pirate, laying his enemy on the sand as he fought to aid his Captain.

Black found himself hard pressed, two pirates taking his attention from Wendy, their blades slashing the air and causing him to duck to avoid losing his head. He heard Wendy scream and turned, narrowly avoiding a knife thrown by the nearest pirate. A pistol discharged and he felt something burn against his side. One of his attackers pitched forward and his first mate stepped over the body, turning to draw off the other as his Captain turned to find Wendy struggling to fend off another pirate, already half tossed over his shoulder she continued to kick and punch her abductor.

Ignoring the pain in his side, Captain Black lunged at the pirate, knocking him over, Wendy rolling to the side as the two men traded blows, the fight taking them both into the surf. The pirate decided he'd had enough and landed a blow that felled the Captain, then the brigand took to his heels and fled, leaving his victim to drown.

Wendy, sobbing with fright, staggered into the surf and tried to drag the Captain free of the waves, her arms barely able to keep his head out of the water as she screamed for help. Suddenly men were all around her and willing hands lifted the Captain from her grasp, someone wrapping a blanket around her and pulling her from the sea to sit, wet and shivering on the sand.

"Get everyone in the boats and let's pull for the ship!" Stubbs ordered, the men lifting their fallen Captain into one of the long boats, Wendy gathered up and lifted into the other. Then with a mighty push the two boats were launched, the beach left scattered with the bodies of injured and unconscious pirates, the Nymph's crew taking their wounded with them.

Wendy sat huddled in the bottom of the boat, her teeth chattering as she pulled the sodden blanket more closely around her. The men strained at the oars as they breached the surf close to the beach, the occasional pistol shot still peppering the air as the boats pulled away from the shore. Once past the breakers the men kept up their rhythm, the sun beating down on Wendy's unprotected head as the ship out in the bay came closer and closer.

As the dark side of the ship bumped against the first long boat, Wendy watched as the sailors lifted their wounded into a net lowered over the side. With men to stop the net bumping against the planking, the injured were lifted over the rail and on to the deck. Wendy refused when the same mode of transportation was offered to her, and gamely negotiated the rope and wood ladder that hung over the side. By the time she reached the rail she was shaking with reaction and strain, someone scooping her off her feet and carrying her out of the burning sun and into a cabin below decks. She lay shivering on the bunk listening to the sounds of the ship being prepared to sail, the thud of feet on the deck, the clank of the anchor chain being winched aboard, the snap of sheets filling with the wind. Feeling the ship move, she decided to sit up and see what her prison was like. Sitting on the side of the bunk she found herself in a neatly appointed cabin as unlike a prison as it was possible. As the shaft of sun from the small porthole shifted across the floor with the turn of the ship, Wendy stared at the few items that adorned her accommodation. In the corner stood a small chest of drawers, its top bordered by a brass rail to stop anything falling off. Screwed to the bulkhead was a round mirror with a delicate filigree frame. Next to the chest stood a metal framework wash stand with a large porcelain bowl set snugly in the top, a chamber pot underneath and a side holder for a jug. The bunk fitted the length of the cabin with only enough room to stand up between the bed and the chest and washstand. It was tiny but neat and clean.

Shrugging off the wet blanket, Wendy stood up to investigate the drawers. The first revealed an assortment of women's undergarments in different styles, shapes and colours. The second drawer revealed a selection of skirts and blouses, all tidily folded and sweet smelling with lavender strewn between the folds. The third drawer was compartmentalized and held brushes, pins, bottles and jars of all description.

Slightly overwhelmed, Wendy staggered a little on her way to the door. The ship was riding the swells and she still had to find her sea legs, putting out her hand to steady herself when they hit a particularly large wave. On reaching the cabin door she tried the handle and found it unlocked. Pulling it wide she stuck her head out, finding the corridor empty, a lantern swinging back and forth from the low ceiling outside her door.

Puzzled, Wendy went back into her cabin and shut the door. Finding it all to much to sort out, she decided to get rid of her salt stained nightgown and finally become decently dressed. A bucket had been left outside and she poured this into the basin, more than happy to wash off the sand and salt before stripping off her ruined nightgown and using one of the small towels to dry herself. A quick rummage found her a selection of underclothes, along with a skirt and matching blouse to wear. With dry clothes and once more decently covered, Wendy felt some of the strain leave her, humming to herself as she dragged a brush through her hair in a familiar routine before pinning it up as neatly as she could with the aid of the pins and the small mirror.

Feeling much more able to cope with whatever fate, or Neverland had to throw at her, Wendy once more opened the cabin door and stepped out. Seeing a door at the end of the companionway, she headed towards it, her bare feet noiseless on the smooth planking of the deck. Pulling open the second hatch, she found herself out on the main deck, the men swarming up into the rigging as Mister Stubbs bellowed orders from above and behind her. Keeping within the shadow of the doorway, Wendy watched as the crew unfurled more sail, the ship fairly leaping over the waves as the wind filled the sheets, straining the rigging. Keeping to the cabin wall, Wendy made her way to the railing and stared out at the sea, the ship cutting through the waves as she rounded a headland. Turning her head to let her hair whip free of her face, Wendy stared back at another ship apparently following them some distance behind.

"Excuse me miss." Stubbs voice at her elbow made her jump and she stared apprehensively up at the first mate.

"I was wondering miss.....have you had any experience with nursing?"

Wendy stared at him blankly. "Well.....no. Don't you have a ship's Doctor?"

"Yes we do....but there were several men injured in that fight. I was hoping..." She stared as Stubbs, a man that topped her by at least a foot in all directions, shuffled his feet.

"Can I help in some way?" She finally said, putting the big man out of his discomfort.

"If you would.....it's the Captain see...."

Wendy felt her heart pound. "He's not...I mean..."

"Oh no....nothing fatal."

"Thank goodness."

"If'n you'll come this way..?" Mister Stubbs indicated for her to go back through the hatchway she'd come through.

Halfway along the passage they could hear someone calling out.

"STUBBS!....you blackguard, where the hell are you!...STUBBS!"

The big man squeezed past Wendy and opened the door first, ushering her into the room which proved to be a much larger cabin with a bed on which Captain Black sat on the side attempting to take off his shirt which appeared soaked in blood. Not noticing Wendy off to the side, he cursed roundly, his breath hissing between his teeth as he eased the cloth unsuccessfully away from the wound below his ribs.

"Get the Doc, Stubbs....this is worse than I thought." Black groaned, his fingers shaking as he tried again to ease off the shirt.

"Mister Stubbs, I'll need a bowl of water and some cloth for bandages. And please send the Doctor when he's free from tending the other men."

Wendy's voice made the Captain jump, his mouth twisting in a grimace as it wrenched his side. "Dammit!"

Shooing the big man out of the cabin, Wendy approached