Title: Spirited Away
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: One - Lost and Apparently Forgotten
Rating: PG13 bordering on an R later on
Category: quite shameless Peter/Wendy fluff, what else do I do.

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Hardly a month gone by and I can't resist another dip into the PP universe. You all know what to expect, barrel loads of adventure, a smattering of smut, lashings of fluff, you know the formula.....enjoy.
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Life at number fourteen, Rose Avenue, Bloomsbury, London, had almost returned to some semblance of normalcy after the extraordinary events that had occurred the night the Darling family increased from five to eleven. The small house was filled to bursting and it was with some relief, on Mrs.Darlings behalf assuredly, that her husband announced that they were all moving to somewhere more commodious to better suit their present needs. The children were adamant that such an event couldn't possibly happen, that the present house was quite adequate, and that they didn't really need to take so many baths and tie up the bathroom for so long.

Their cries and protests were ignored.

So it was that six month after their adventures in Never Neverland, Wendy Darling and her brothers found themselves staring at the plaster exterior of a large house situated back from the main road, quite some distance from their old home. The driveway curved and circled back on itself as it approached the front door, which appeared very grand, the edges of the gravel lined with neatly trimmed shrubs. The family arrived in two carriages, a third following with their combined luggage and a dray behind that carrying their furniture. Wendy thought the new house not at all pretty or snug, the windows staring back blindly at its new occupants as they piled out of their conveyances and surveyed their new domain.

"He won't be able to find us here," muttered Nibs, one foot digging the toe of his second best shoes into the loose gravel of the drive.

"Of course he will, I left him a note." Wendy assured him, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt as the boys swirled around her.

They all trooped inside when the door was opened by their maid Liza who had gone on ahead and their parents gestured them forward. The bare floors echoed the many footfalls, the walls strangely marked with the faint outlines of pictures that had hung there previously.

"Of course it will have to be cleaned from top to bottom." Mary Darling announced as she surveyed the entrance hall, their maid, Liza, peering past her mistress and looking glum at the prospect of so much more work.

"I'll need help." Liza replied, to which Mary Darling nodded in agreement before walking further into the new house and opening the first door on the left.

"Let's see our new bedrooms." John called, him and Michael racing each other to the stairs that climbed upwards in a stately sweep, the upper levels shrouded in gloom as the windows remained obscured with closed curtains. With a whoop the other boys quickly followed, leaping and bounding up the stairs with an alarming amount of noise that drew their mother back to peer anxiously upwards, her elegant brows drawn together.

"Not so much noise, if you please boys....walk, don't run."

Tutting to herself, Mary Darling returned to her perusal of the rooms on the ground floor, leaving her eldest to explore on her own.

Wendy stood for a moment gazing around her at the unfamiliar walls, her nose wrinkling at the faint smell of neglect that coated everything. She was well aware that her father had managed to obtain the house at a greatly reduced rate through the bank exactly because it had been empty for some time, and that her father considered it quite a bargain. It would certainly accommodate their newly expanded family without any difficulty and it was closer to her father's work which would help to allow that gentleman to work longer hours to earn more; but Wendy couldn't help feeling that their move from Bloomsbury was just another step along the way to severing their connections to what had happened not all that long ago.

Moving through the hallway, Wendy found herself entering a small parlor at the back of the house where sunlight peeked through the chinks in the curtains. Pulling them back she gasped to see elegant French doors leading the eye out to a paved courtyard which in turn led out into the back garden. Unlike the front which had seen the attention of a recently engaged gardener, the back garden was a wilderness of neglect and over-growth. It was almost a jungle, a clear demarcation where the paving stones appeared newly swept and the long grass started. Hearing the returning patter of her brothers above her head, Wendy wrestled with the catch on the door for a moment before pulling it wide and stepping through, her lungs filling with the fresh air and heady scents of the untamed plants beyond the small cleared space. Glancing down at her neat half boots, she hitched up her skirts and plunged into the greenery. She was later to question why she had felt so strongly lured to explore the wilderness, but for now, heedless of the damp and spiders webs that quickly marked her skirts, Wendy pushed her way through the undergrowth, the sun struggling to reach her through the tangled branches above her head. Faintly she thought she heard someone call her name but she ignored it, parting the shrubbery in front of her to squeeze through. All of a sudden she noticed that the noises around her had changed. Where before she had heard the faint twitter of sparrows disturbed by her arrival combined with the fainter clatter of a carriage passing, she now noted the raucous call of an exotic parrot somewhere off to her left followed almost immediately by her attention drawn to the splash of water on rock as if from a waterfall. Intrigued, she pressed on, her gloved hands pushing back a particularly tightly knitted screen of greenery that parted very suddenly and pitched her forward onto her hands and knees.

"Oh drat!" She could feel the moist loam soaking through the fabric of her skirt and hurriedly scrambled to her feet, staring with aggravation at the wet stains on her skirt. Brushing at the bits of leaf and twig that stubbornly adhered to her clothing, Wendy didn't notice anything unusual until she tried to right her chip-straw hat.

"Good grief!" The sound of splashing water was now very loud and Wendy could see what appeared to be a substantial waterfall just beyond the stand of trees in front of her. Casting a glance over her shoulder she could not see the outline of the house that she knew was just behind her, her brow furrowing as she was sure that father had not mentioned anything about a water feature in the grounds of the house. Passing between the tree trunks she stood and stared open mouthed at a towering rock formation and the stream of foaming water that cascaded over the edge, falling to a rock pool at the base before overflowing that and disappearing once more into the dense jungle.

Totally confused now, Wendy spun around and headed back to where she thought she'd come through, the sound of the water rapidly diminishing as the shrubs and trees swallowed her up. Starting to feel more than a little frightened, Wendy picked up her pace as much as she was able, barging her way through vines and branches, several catching at her hair and clothes until she was almost sobbing with frustration. After several minutes she paused, panting, her hat askew, face perspiring, completely and utterly lost with no sign that a house had ever existed anywhere near her.

"Help! Help! Can anyone hear me?"

Feeling thoroughly frightened now, Wendy called and called but received no reply to her cries, her voice breaking on a sob when she eventually gave up. Taking a deep breath she fought back weak tears and straightened her shoulders. She could only be a few feet away from the house, she just had to wait until someone came looking for her. She remembered hearing her name being called, so someone was probably already telling her parents that she was missing. Looking around, she tried to remember if she had already passed that way, but she saw nothing to indicate she had been through there, the ground quite clear of any evidence of her foot prints or damaged foliage from her earlier arrival. Not allowing herself to panic, Wendy set about repairing her appearance, setting her hat at a jaunty angle before tugging at her gloves to remove a wrinkle. Satisfied that she had done all she could she slowly turned around and listened intently. Some strange bird was incessantly calling high up in a tree, its warbling cry unlike anything she'd heard in the suburbs of London, certainly no blackbird or thrush made such a song. Behind her the noise of the waterfall was almost completely muffled leaving her with only the sound of the wind ruffling the leaves for company.

"How simply ridiculous, to be lost in ones own back garden. Mother will be so cross."

Seeing a large grey lump rising out of the ground, she approached and carefully dusted the boulders surface with a scrap of a handkerchief before sitting herself primly down, her ankles tidily pressed together, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"They are bound to find me sooner or later." She mused to herself. "The boys will tease me forever for getting so muddled."

Refusing to entertain any other emotion other than mild concern, Wendy sat patiently waiting to be found.

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"I'm sure she was here only a moment ago." Mary Darling turned worried eyes to her husband as they searched through the rooms on the ground level, the thunder of feet announcing the arrival of their boys who had been looking through the rooms on the upper levels.

"Sorry Mother, no sign of her....I'm sure we would have seen her if she'd come up to look at the bedrooms."

"Did you look everywhere?" George Darling asked, his wifes' hand clasped tightly in his own. He frowned when all the boys respectfully nodded, glancing between themselves as their parents exchanged a worried look.

"Where could she be George...Wendy wouldn't have wandered off, would she?"

"What about the garden?" Tootles suggested, pointing to a door half open towards the back of the house.

A look of intense relief passed over his Mother's face as she started forward, the rest of the family following her into the back parlor where they saw the French door ajar and the garden beyond.

When they all stood on the paced surface of the courtyard, George started to call, his deep voice soon joined by his wife and children, Wendy's name echoing around the garden. When they paused, they listened but were only answered by the chirp of birds and the drone of bees about their business. Unlike Wendy, their view of the back garden was not one of unbridled overgrowth, but of a lawn that stretched down a gentle slope to a round, stone edged fish pond, the borders only slightly weedy and the grass only a bit longer than desirable. If Wendy was in the garden she could only have been hiding very well or gone beyond its boundaries. A quick search provided the unwelcome conclusion that Wendy was not to be found anywhere in the grounds.

"Oh my dearest girl......where are you?" Mary Darling sobbed on her husbands shoulder as they returned to the house, perplexed and upset at the sudden inexplicable disappearance of their eldest child.

The police were called, a search made again of the house and grounds as well as the neighboring properties but of Wendy, no trace was ever found. After several weeks of unceasing despair, and numerous searches as well as notices in the newspapers, the house was once more shut up and abandoned, the family unable to countenance living within its walls. In a paroxysm of grief, it was announced that they would move into a house provided by the bank, the rent quite affordable even if it was not as big as they would have liked. With heavy hearts and bewildered eyes, the Darling family left the house where their Wendy had been last seen, a bouquet of flowers left to wilt on the front step as the carriages pulled out of the driveway never to return.

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A growl from her stomach reminded Wendy that she had been sitting for some considerable time on that very hard boulder, her bottom quite numb. The light around her was starting to dim and she shifted uneasily. She had heard no sound of anyone calling her, nor any evidence that a search was in progress. Any second she had hoped to see one of the boys burst through the undergrowth and yell surprise, but it never happened. Now it was starting to get dark and her fears were fully roused that she had somehow managed to get herself well and truly lost beyond being found before nightfall.

"This is ridiculous."

Getting stiffly to her feet, she willed herself to be calm and surveyed her surroundings once more, noting with surprise that there appeared to be a path leading off through the trees. Given that she had been sitting in the small glade for some time and never noticed the path did seem exceedingly odd. Not one to dwell, she decided to ignore the usual advice that if one is lost, you should stay where you are and wait to be found, instead she set her booted feet on the faint track and decided to follow it. It stood to reason that if there was a path, it must lead somewhere, and that was better than being nowhere, so she tilted her head and set off through the jungle, the faint track becoming more worn and wider the further she walked. Satisfied that she'd made the right decision, Wendy started to hurry, almost running along the path as it showed obvious signs of recent use. Ignoring the fact that given the passage of time she should have reached some sign of habitation long since, Wendy continued on her way, her lungs heaving as she ran faster and faster, her hat lost somewhere to a whipping branch, her skirts hitched upwards to free her legs as she continued her headlong flight. She hadn't realised how dark it had become until she tripped on a tree root and found herself face down, spitting sand and dirt from her mouth. With her heart racing she shakily rose to her feet and tottered a few steps before coming to a complete halt again, her mouth dropping open as she surveyed the sight that met her eyes.

The path she had been following had ended and she now stood in a break in the dense foliage that had been a feature since she'd left the waterfall. Ahead of her stretched a broad expanse of sand sloping gently down to meet the lapping waves that slapped and sighed as they swept the shore. Above her head stars were starting to appear as the last streaks of sunset left the sky, a few clouds bearing the banners of pink and purple that indicated the end of the day. Stupefied, Wendy could only stare at the ocean that stretched to the far horizon, the smooth expanse of water broken nearer to shore by shoals of rocks, some flat, some peaked that rose blackly from the waves to form a protective sea wall around the lagoon.

"It's not....possible...I must be..I must...no..." Wendy sank down onto the warm sand in shock, her brain simply unable to comprehend how she could have traveled so far to the sea. Her gloved fingers were buried in the soft sand, unconsciously flexing amongst the grains as their owner fought to reconcile what she knew with what she was seeing. Wendy had once been taken to Brighton and walked the esplanade, marveling at the vast ocean, its grey-green waves dragging and rolling the pebbles that lined the seashore. English beaches did not have soft, silky sand, nor were they lined with such tropical lushness as this beach before her. Barely able to comprehend how it had happened, Wendy knew, without a doubt, where she was.

Somehow she was back in Neverland, sitting in a state of shock on a beach that bordered the home of Peter Pan.

"I...it can't be....how....I don't know....how can this be?!"

As she stared out to sea, the sky above her turned to black velvet, the stars twinkling as they have always done, uncaring of the small drama below. Behind her the jungle seemed to close its ranks, like a flower shutting its petals, its leaves and branches folding around itself and settling down for the night. Shivering, Wendy wrapped her arms around her shoulders, her teeth starting to chatter in earnest as her brain tried to process her situation. She had no way of knowing where she was on the island, having not spent enough time in Neverland to see everything. Feeling desperately afraid, she huddled where she was against the base of a tree, her knees drawn up and her head tucked down, so that she became just another shadow against the many that painted the ground.

The sound of the waves eventually sent her into an uneasy sleep, her body slumping to the still warm sand, her hands finally unclenching from their tight fists to lay relaxed and open on their backs.

The hours of the night passed uneasily, Wendy roused often by unusual noises that set her pulses racing, her eyes staring wildly around her, trying to find the source of the sound until her heavy lids closed once more and her body found brief peace in sleep again.

With the first hint of dawn, she was once more sitting huddled against the tree, her brain numb with the shock of finding that it was not a strange nightmare, but in fact a terrible reality, that somehow she had returned to the fantasy that had haunted her dreams for so long.

Despite begging him not to forget her, Wendy had known in her heart of hearts that she was never likely to see Peter Pan ever again, her diary filled with her recollections of the brief time spent in Neverland, her thoughts and feelings set down in ink to be read, and re-read whenever she needed reminding of her adventures, and of him. Her thirteenth birthday had been celebrated shortly after their return to London, her installation in the second best bedroom a move welcomed by her as much as by her parents, the nursery more than full of over-rambuncious young men always demanding attention. She now viewed her time spent with Peter, and her adventures with Hook and everything else as a rite of passage, a journey that took her from childhood to the edge of adulthood, a journey that she had needed to take but now was a thing of the past, her face and footsteps firmly set on the course of growing up and accepting her future. That she often felt pangs of regret that she would never see Peter again, was accepted as just part of that growing up, like parting with a treasured toy and passing it on to her younger brother, it was what you did. A constant reminder was, of course, her new collection of "brothers", the Lost Boys now a part of her family, their lives forever changed by a simple decision to return and have a mother again. That the boys had the same doubts and fears as herself, half hoping, half dreading that Peter would return, had prompted Nibs to be the one to keep the nursery window unlatched and Wendy had reassured him that she'd left a letter of redirection if Peter should return and find them gone. Despite this, the boys resolutely stuck by their decision to leave Neverland and grow up, which only served to reinforce Wendy's own resolve to embrace adulthood and all it had to offer. In that spirit she no longer dreaded her weekly visits to her Aunt Millicent for instruction in deportment and etiquette, her willingness to take on the rules and requirements of a young lady bringing a tear to her Aunts eye as that lady started to create a future for her niece that included all her fondest wishes.

Wendy never doubted that she would marry someday, and that she would have her own family, her own husband. It was what one expected of someone who was growing up. It was not so far in the future that she hadn't started already to envisage what she would expect of her future spouse, and what he would expect of her. It was all part and parcel of Wendy's life now. Neverland was no more than a half remembered dream.

Now that dream had once more taken on a disturbing reality, and she was hard pressed to not scream in vexation at its intrusion on her well mapped out plans for her life as an adult. She had barely started on that well trodden path and now it was scattered to the four winds with a simple walk in an overgrown garden.

Her jumbled thoughts left her more confused than ever, her feelings swinging from abject and reasonless fear to a towering rage that something, or someone should so interfere in her life.

Unable to bear her own company any longer, Wendy rose to her feet and dusted herself down half-heartedly. Her dress was crumpled and soiled beyond recovery, unnoticed by the wearer to also be several inches shorter than it had been that morning, her shining half-boots now scratched and dull. Reaching up a hand, she moaned to discover her previously carefully coiffed hair now hung down her back in disarray, her pins long gone and lost.

Pushing it back over her shoulder and tucking it behind her ears, Wendy stood and contemplated her options. She was still very hungry, her last meal being the previous days breakfast, and now thirst was also making itself known. Not wanting to have to traverse the jungle again in search of the waterfall, Wendy decided to turn left and try to follow the beach in the hopes of finding the run-off creek which surely emptied somewhere along that stretch of coast. The sun was now well up in the sky and its warmth was going a long way to dispell the night terrors that lingered. Setting off resolutely, Wendy followed the curve of the beach, her boots sinking into the sand with each step and pinching horribly. Finding it difficult going, she edged her way down towards the firmer sand near the waves, the sun quickly heating the top of her head. Finding her clothes starting to stick to her skin with perspiration, Wendy shed her gloves then loosened the top two buttons of her inexplicably snug bodice and fanned herself with a broad leaf she found laying on the sand. After only an hour she found the stream, the clear, cold water like nectar to her parched throat as she knelt on the shallow bank to drink her fill. Her thirst satisfied, she splashed the cold water on her hot face, letting the water drip down her open blouse and cool her hot skin. Her feet were clamoring for attention, encased as they were in too-tight calf-skin boots. After removing them and rolling down her stockings, she gratefully sank them into the water, her eyes closing in bliss as her poor feet almost steamed in the fresh water. Ruefully she contemplated putting the boots back on, but only took a second to discard the idea, her toes wriggling delightedly in the silt at the bottom of the creek. Her thirst taken care of, her feet once more comfortable, Wendy decided to continue her trek along the beach. Using an elephant ear leaf for an umbrella Wendy held her boots in the other hand, her shortened skirts tucked into her waistband to free her legs for movement. As she rounded the headland she stared with dismay at the empty expanse of beach still to be traversed. At the rate she was walking, it would be dark before she managed to reach anywhere she recognised. To add insult to injury, her poor empty stomach chose that moment to remind her just how long it had been since she ate last.

"Well.......as I appear to have been transported to the opposite side of the Island, I guess I'd better find something to eat before I continue on."

Still holding her boots, she turned to go inland only to stop suddenly, one hand dropping the boots and lifting to place itself over her heart to still its sudden pounding. In the shadow of a palm tree stood someone watching her.

"Who are you?" She called, her voice sharp with fear.

"Who are you?" Echoed the someone, identifying himself as male but otherwise keeping to the shadow.

"Wendy Darling.....I'm lost......can you tell me where I am?"

"You don't know where you are?"

Gritting her teeth with annoyance, Wendy choked down her irritation and tried again.

"I know I'm in Neverland, but none of this is familiar.....can you tell me how far I have to go to get to Mermaid lagoon, or the Black Castle?"

"You really are lost," the voice agreed, the figure moving as he folded his arms over his chest. Wendy took a step closer, trying to pierce the shadow and discern the young man's face. As his features became more distinct Wendy felt a bolt of something jolt her heart and set it thumping again.

"P-p-eter?"

She saw the figure jerk and take a step forward into the sunlight.

"How do you know my name?"

Wendy stared at the young man stalking towards her, one hand now holding a wickedly sharp dagger, the other balled into a fist.

"It hasn't been that long Peter.....of course I remember you...but... but...you've changed."

"Stop saying my name......I don't know you....who are you?"

As he came within a few feet, Wendy took a step back, fearful of his scowling expression, her eyes flicking between the knife and his altered features. For altered he surely was, from the young boy that she had bid a bitter sweet farewell only a few short months before, to a well muscled stripling who looked at least to be several years older than her now, his long, sun-bleached hair tied back from his face in a pony-tail, a shaggy fringe almost hiding his eyes, his broad shoulders and long, well muscled legs showing the promise of the man to come.

He continued his advance until he stood almost toe to toe with Wendy, his sea-green eyes, thickly lashed, sweeping over her from the top of her head to her sandy toes and back up again, his expression still grim and unyielding.

"Nope, never seen you here before.....don't get girls here...you'd better take yourself off again. Don't wantcha here neither."

"Well really.....Peter this is silly, of course you know me.....and what happened to you?"

"What do you mean, 'what happened'? Nothing's happened," he looked down at himself, his scowl deepening.

"Well it certainly has, when you left six months ago you looked to be the same age as me...now you look..." She gestured vaguely at him, "you look....older."

"You don't know what your talking about, stupid girl!" Peter snarled, still scowling, his eyes flashing as he started to circle Wendy, insolently twirling his knife between his long brown fingers, his bare feet kicking up little puffs of sand. Wendy refused to play his game and stood still, staring ahead and ignoring his rudeness, her chest rising and falling rapidly in her agitation. She was still trying to fathom why Peter should appear to much older than her, if she had to hazard his age, she would have put it nearer seventeen, possibly older given his height. She remembered that Peter quite often had an appalling memory for trivial things like her brothers and others, so it wasn't quite such a shock that he had forgotten her after such a short time, but it still hurt a little.

"I do know, Peter.....I am Wendy, I was here just six months ago, we fought Hook together..." She halted her remembrances when Peter pressed the sharp blade of his knife against her throat in a blur of motion that took her breath away.

"You lie." He hissed from behind her, his other hand coming around to grab hers and yank it back, Wendy crying out at his rough treatment. Within seconds both hands were secured behind her back and Peter stood in front of her, his legs apart, head arrogantly tilted upwards, his fists balled on his hips.

"What are you doing? Let me go at once!"

"You are obviously a spy sent by pirates to find me. I kill spies!"

Ignoring Wendy's shocked gasp, Peter fashioned a tether from a length of vine and wrapped it around Wendy's slender waist, knotted it at the front and stepped back again. Giving the rope a tug he turned and started forward only to halt when Wendy refused to move.

"Move girl.....or I'll mark that white skin of yours with my knife!"

"You don't frighten me, Peter Pan.....undo my hands and take this ridiculous vine thing off me."

Ignoring her, Peter tugged hard on the vine, almost toppling Wendy forward. "Nope.....start walking spy....I intend to return you to your master, but there nothing that says I have to return you in one piece."

Almost squealing in anger, Wendy resisted one more tug before submitting and following his brown back into the jungle. She didn't understand a word he was saying, but common sense told her that if she wanted to eat then Peter would be the one to stick with. For the time being.

He had collected her boots where they'd fallen in the sand, his movements graceful as he strutted ahead, Wendy stumbling along behind him.

After maintaining a mutinous silence for the first few minutes, Wendy tried again.

"Peter....please let me go, this isn't necessary, I promise not to run away."

"Don't try your wheedling ways on me girl.....spies don't get special privileges so shut up and walk."

"Goodness but you are rude....you were never like this when I knew you before.....what's happened to you? What's happened here, in Neverland?"

"No idea what your talking about......never met you before just now."

"Oh you stupid boy....of course you have. Don't you remember the Lost Boys..Nibs, Tootles...Slightly?"

"Nope.....funny names..what sort of boys have names like that?" He scoffed, tugging the vine with a jerk.

"But surely you remember...we were captured and taken aboard the pirate ship, the Jolly Roger. You fought Hook and he beat you....for a little while..." Wendy hadn't been paying attention and cannoned into Peter's back.

Abruptly he swung about, one long finger coming up to jab her on her shoulder, the force almost knocking her down.

"If you don't shut up I'll gag you....you're talking rubbish....there's never been anyone called Hook...and certainly no ship has ever anchored off these shores called such a silly name as the Jolly Roger...."

"But Peter...."

"Right.....I warned you..." With a kick, Peter knocked Wendy's legs out from under her and she fell awkwardly. As she tried to catch her breath she felt her skirts being pushed upwards and she lashed out with her foot, catching him a on the thigh. He grunted and landed her a back handed blow across her cheek that half stunned her with shock and pain. She heard her petticoat rip and a second later a length of white linen was forced between her bruised lips and tied at the back of her head. Unable to help herself, she lay there, eyes squeezed shut as tears of pain and fear leaked out and slid down her cheek. With a final jerk, Peter finished gagging her and then hooked his hand under her upper arm, hauling her back to her feet. Wendy slowly opened her eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the last of her tears, only to find herself so close to Peter that she could count the freckles that dotted his nose.

For a long moment Peter just stared at her, his eyes roaming over her face, mapping its features. As if snapping himself out of a trance, Peter's eyebrow's furrowed in a scowl and he hauled her forward, the rope vine forgotten as he marched her alongside him, not allowing her faltering gait to slow him down, the grip on her arm sure to leave bruises.

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Peter stared at his captive where she sat on the opposite side of the fire to him. It was past midday when he finally stopped. He'd collected his pack after they'd gone only a little way into the jungle, the familiar weight on his bare back a welcome distraction. The girl had offered no resistance after he'd gagged her, following him meekly after he released her arm and took up the vine once more. It was only after the third time she fell that he sighed in annoyance and decided to make camp early and cook the fish he'd caught that morning. The girl had gratefully slumped to the ground and not moved while Peter organized the fire and gutted the fish, spitting them on sticks to roast over the flames. They were in a small glade, sheltered from the hot sun, the ground covered with a soft, spongy plant that smelled tangy and sweet when crushed. The fire pit was already there when they arrived, the spot one of his regular stops on his route around his domain. Peter checked on the fish, the flesh just crisping at the edges as he turned them to avoid burning. The girl still lay where she'd dropped, her amazing eyes hidden from him behind their long lashes. He was sure she must be uncomfortable with her hands still tied behind her back, so he rose and drew his blade. Before he had taken two steps he found himself pinned in place by those eyes as his captive stared balefully at him, her look of fear quickly replaced by one laced with contempt. Pausing he wondered why her gaze disturbed him so much before he continued over to where she lay, his blade flicking out to sever her bonds.

"Don't even think of running away, I'd catch you easily."

He watched as she brought her hands to the front, rubbing her wrists alternatively to restore circulation. Just as quickly she yanked the gag from between her lips, licking them to ease their dryness. Peter watched that pink tongue for a second before jerking his attention back to the fire. He had been probably as shocked as the girl to find her standing on the beach, her long hair lifting in the slight breeze as she turned to approach where he stood in the shade of the palm. It had been so long since he'd seen anyone up close that he was stupefied for a moment, drinking in her appearance, noting her strange clothes, the boots hanging from one slender hand, the leaf held over her head. Then she had dropped the boots and held her hand to her chest, drawing his attention to her feminine curves, her lips forming his name and snapping him out of his trance.

Her words confused him, left him feeling unsure and uneasy. She appeared to think she knew him from sometime in the past, but he was sure he'd have remembered her if he'd ever met her. There had been a moment when he'd felt something spark between them, but it had quickly passed and he'd felt angry that she'd persisted in using his name, forcing him to gag her.

He couldn't explain how she knew his name, that was the most perplexing thing. Was is pure coincidence or dumb luck that she picked his name? Whatever it was, he was going to find out. He knew she was frightened, her eyes were like windows, her emotions easy to read, but she also had courage, something he admired.

Most of what she said made no sense to him at all. He could only assume that she was a survivor from a ship wreck the same as himself, her gibberish the product of her ordeal. Maybe he looked like someone she knew called Peter and that was how the confusion came about. Satisfied that he'd found an easy solution to his own questions, Peter grinned and pulled one of the fish from the fire, pulling at the flesh to see if it was cooked through.

Licking his fingers, he removed the other fish on its stick and tossed it to the girl. It landed on the ground in front of her and he laughed when she snatched it up, pulling the hot flesh from the bones with desperate fingers before blowing on it and stuffing it into her mouth.

Wendy ignored his derisive hoot of laughter, too intent on her empty stomach to bother with delicacy but as soon as her immediate needs were satisfied she picked more slowly at the second fish carcass her captor tossed her way.

Amused at her attempts to civilise her behavior, Peter ate his fish with relish, noisily sucking his fingers and belching, pleased to see the girl scowl at him before lowering her eyes and ignoring his bad manners. After wiping his fingers on his legs and leaving long, greasy streaks on his ragged trousers, Peter rummaged in his pack and brought out a water bottle fashioned from the skin of a goat. Lifting it to his lips he gulped the sweet water, the liquid cascading past his mouth to dribble down his neck and chest. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he held the bladder our for the girl to drink from. She hesitated for a second before taking it from his hand and lifting it to her own lips. He watched her throat work as she swallowed, his own suddenly dry as his sea-green gaze met her sky-blue, then he blinked and the connection was broken, the girl dropping her gaze to the fire, her arm outstretched to return the water bottle to him.

He took it and stuffed it back in his pack before tossing the last of the wood on the fire and watching the flames leap and spark.

When he looked up several minutes later the girl was curled up on her side facing away from him, the curve of her back almost hidden by her long hair. As he watched he saw her suddenly jerk before her body relaxed and she slipped into sleep. Feeling pleasantly full, Peter lay on his back and stared up at the branches that swayed above their heads, the sun dappling through the leaves until the random sparkles caused his eyes to close and he drifted off to sleep as well.

The sun was well down in the sky when he next awoke, the embers of the fire barely glowing, sending a small spiral of smoke into the air. Stretching his limbs, Peter scratched his belly before turning on his side and peer across the glade. Instantly he jumped to his feet, his knife in his hands, his eyes darting everywhere at once as he searched the immediate area around the fire. She was gone, only a faint outline in the tender ground cover to show she'd been there at all. Snatching up his pack and kicking dirt over the remains of the fire, Peter searched the ground and easily spotted the small imprint of her feet heading out of the glade. Grinning ferally he secured the straps of his pack and sheathed his knife before setting off at a run, disappearing into the depth of the jungle after his quarry.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy stopped and clapped a hand to her side, the stitch burning as she tried to draw breath. It was starting to get gloomy under the thick trees, her eyes drawn to the canopy far above her head, noting how low in the sky the sun had dipped.

She had only slept for a short while by the fire, her dreams too confused to allow her to rest for long. When she awoke she lay for a long time staring across the glowing embers of the fire to the boy laying on the other side. His face was relaxed in sleep, his dark lashes laying softly on his cheeks, hiding his sea-green eyes from her. She was still shocked to note the changes in his face and body, the boy of her memory replaced by a strong and handsome young man on the verge of manhood, his arms and legs well defined and deeply tanned. Drawing in a deep breath Wendy felt her breasts press hard against the wall of her light corset, the contraption feeling much tighter and more constricting than before. Moving infinitely slowly, she sat up, Peter not stirring from his slumber as she carefully rose to her feet, her body tense and poised for flight if he should move. He remained deeply asleep, his lips curved in a faint smile as if he dreamed of something pleasant. Unwilling to risk waking him, Wendy didn't bother to collect his pack or the water skin, but carefully stepped away from the fire and headed towards the trees, her intent to put as much distance between them as possible. She wouldn't have hesitated to stay with the old Peter, but this new stranger, so hostile and seemingly without any memory of her, was too much for her to cope with on top of everything else. Once among the trees she turned tail and ran, hoisting her skirts to allow her legs to leap over fallen branches, her loose hair swirling wildly behind her.

Too quickly her breath labored in her chest, a stitch making its presence felt in her side, her steps slowing until she could only manage a fast walk, her head twisting often to check for any signs of pursuit behind her.

She was just as hopelessly lost as before, but at least there was no sign of Peter either. The path she was following had vanished an hour before, her feet now leading her through the least tangled area's of the forest, the sun hidden too well by the canopy to provide any sense of direction. As she walked she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, the feeling that something, or someone was watching her only serving to make her pick up her pace, her eyes darting back and forth but seeing nothing. A bird suddenly burst out of a bush and Wendy almost screamed, only the fear of alerting any pursuer holding the sound inside her throat, her hand clamped firmly over her lips to seal them. Her heart hammered and she panted to try and calm herself down before continuing on, the stitch starting to lessen as she walked briskly towards a stand of trees, their trunks almost luminous in the growing dimness of late afternoon. As she slipped between them she cast a glance behind her and gasped. She was sure she'd seen something move behind her but when she looked it was gone, only the sigh of the breeze to ruffle the leaves. Biting her lip she pressed on, her ears straining to hear anything to indicate that another living thing was tracking her. Climbing over a fallen, moss covered trunk, she quickly turned her head to the side and caught the flash of something a few feet away, the figure quickly hiding itself before she could discern who, or what it was.

With a fear born of desperation she looked around for a weapon, her hand finding a long stick, its weight a comfort as she hefted it, testing its balance.

"Whatever, or whoever you are I suggest you stay away..I won't hesitate to use this if you come too close!"

Holding the bludgeon with two hands, Wendy slowly turned a full circle, her eyes straining to pierce the dense bushes to see her stalker. Only silence met her call, the jungle as empty as before. Still tense, Wendy paced forward, turning frequently to try and catch her pursuer, but she never did. As she felt the pressure of the unseen eyes leave her back she relaxed, the branch lowering in her grip. As it did, she heard a growl and only had time to make a half turn, the branch lifting in her hand before something struck her and forced her to the ground, the blow knocking her breath out of her and causing stars to colour her vision. She lashed out and felt the branch connect with something, her attacker grunting and growling, sharp teeth wrenching the stick from her hand. Wendy cowered, her arms coming up to protect her head as the weight on her back shifted, sharp claws pulling at her dress, rips and tears quickly drowned out by her screams as she felt sharp teeth bite into her shoulder and neck. The animal reared back, spitting out her long hair from its jaws and Wendy screamed again. She heard another roar and the animal on her body was suddenly knocked to the side, rolling over and over among the leaf litter, her rescuer grappling with the creature, both grunting and growling as they fought for supremacy. Wendy huddled closer to the ground, curling herself into a ball, her head buried in her arms, the sounds of the combat seemingly almost on top of her. A sudden yelp and a grunt announced the end of the fight, only the harsh breathing of the victor now evident in the forest.

Wendy screamed again when a hand landed on her injured shoulder, the fingers curling around her upper arm and yanking her around so that she found herself on her back staring up into the face of her rescuer.

Peter stared down at her, his chest heaving as he fought to regain his breath. Blood dripped from a bite on his forearm but it was ignored while he did a quick visual inventory of the girl sprawled below him. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated so that they appeared dark and haunted, her lips visibly trembling as she fought back a sob of sheer terror.

"Are you alright girl? Are you hurt?" Peter barked at her, wincing when she flinched away from him, shaking her head mutely. Sitting back on his heels he realised that he still held his knife in his fist, the blood of the wolf dripping over his fingers in a gory mess. Wendy's eyes were darting between the knife and his face, fear of his next move evident in every tense line of her body. Sighing to himself, Peter sheathed the weapon and wiped his bloody fingers on his skin, spreading the gore and adding to his generally disheveled and savage looking state. Wendy remained frozen on the ground, her heart still hammering, black spots starting to narrow her vision until she seemed to be watching the whole scene from a long way away. With a small moan her eyes closed and she fainted dead away, falling back to the leaf litter with a small thump.

Alarmed Peter grasped her arms and lifted her up, her head lolling back on her long neck, her hair brushing the dirt. Realising that his captive was no longer conscious, Peter lowered her back down and rolled her over, lifting her hair to see the wound on her back and shoulder. For a second he rubbed a few of the strands between his fingers, marveling at how soft it felt, then he lifted the silken mass out of the way and peered at the bloody wound left by the wolf's teeth. It was deep but not bleeding much so he rolled her onto her back and left her lying there. Rising to his feet he paced over to the carcass of the wolf lying only a few feet away. His own heart was still thumping in his chest feeling fit to burst, his lungs dragging in long draughts of air as reaction set in and tremors writhed down his arms and legs. Shaking himself free of them, he drew out his knife and wiped it clean on the animals pelt before slitting the skin from neck to groin. Having skinned the wolf, Peter rolled the fur into a gory bundle and left it beside his comatose captive before digging a shallow grave and rolling the skinned corpse into the earth, covering it thoroughly with dirt and leaves. Satisfied, Peter inspected his own wound, returning to where Wendy lay and stripping off another length of petticoat to bind his arm. That done he collected his pack, sheathed his knife and bent down to pick up the senseless girl in his arms, hefting her to get her weight settled before trekking off at right angles to the direction Wendy had been going.

Within a few minutes he had reached one of his many campsites, a rough bivouac constructed of branches and vines cunningly hidden in a thicket. The fireplace was also cleverly hidden by dint of the rocks being scattered to appear random and only needing a quick collection to form back into a circle around the fire pit. Peter stooped awkwardly with his burden and entered the rude hut, his head brushing the angled roof when he straightened up. He carefully laid his burden down on a fragrant bed of soft pine branches, Wendy's pale face a blur in the gathering darkness, the sun finally sinking below the horizon and plunging the forest into twilight. Knowing that he had little time, Peter quickly collected the rocks, arranging them just so, before collecting an armful of dry tinder. With a practiced hand he struck sparks off a flint into a bundle of grass, the spark catching into a flame that he thrust into the kindling, allowing the tiny flame to lick at the wood and gain strength before he added bigger pieces until it blazed brightly, sending shadows dancing around the grove.

Looking at his still gory hands, Peter left the fire and headed off around the back of the bivouac, his feet knowing the way without needing a light. The pool was a natural spring, the water warm when it bubbled out of the earth, a faint mist of steam seen to rise off the surface on colder nights. Peter sank with relief under the ripples, sluicing himself off and washing the wolf's blood from his hands and arms. He didn't bother to strip off his trousers as they were in dire need of a wash anyway and Peter was ever practical. After a good scrubbing he floated on his back for a few minutes before hauling himself out and shaking vigorously, like a dog, his hair flying in all directions, free of the thong that usually bound it. With a final shake he padded back to the campsite, the fire still burning merrily, only needing a few more sticks to maintain its heat and light. As he had done at midday, Peter unwrapped two silvery fish and spitted them over the flames, careful to judge the distance so that they cooked but not burned. His trousers were already starting to dry on him from the heat of the fire, his hair glinting in the light like burnished gold as it hung around his face and well below his ears. Feeling it tickle, he rummaged in his pack and found another thong, tying his hair back at the nape of his neck before deciding to check on his captive.

The light from the fire barely penetrated the angled tent, Peter not able to make out more than Wendy's face in the darkness. Hearing her slightly labored breathing, Peter rested his hand lightly on her chest, below her breasts. Under the soft cloth of her blouse he could feel something rigid, hardly giving to the slight pressure of his fingertips. For a long moment he sat on his heels, wondering what she could be wearing to so constrict her breathing as to make her wheeze even in unconsciousness. He dragged his pack into the shelter and fumbled inside it for a few seconds before producing the stub of a candle which he wedged on a conveniently placed rock. Ducking out of the tent he snagged a burning splinter and lit the wick, light flooding into the small space. Now with a light source, Peter once more touched Wendy's middle, feeling the hard something under the clothes that extended from below her breasts to just above her hips. Further exploration revealed it extended all around her body, his fingers finding what appeared to be some sort of lacing down the back. Another hitched breath from Wendy made up his mind for him. With careful manoeuvering he rolled the girl onto her front and brushed her hair to one side. Seeing the row of buttons, he quickly started to undo them, his fingers fumbling slightly with the small button holes. With the garment now open to the waist, he could see the strange contraption that encased Wendy's mid-drift, the lacings pulled tight, barely giving room for a shallow breath. At first he tried to undo the laces but that proved too time consuming, in frustration he pulled out his knife and ran the blade down the whole seam, the lacings parting like tallow in the sun. As if released from a prison, Wendy's lungs suddenly drew in a deep breath, the edges of the corset springing apart to reveal the fine cotton camisole beneath and an expanse of smooth skin. Still puzzling why anyone would feel the need to wear such a strange and tortuous device, Peter rolled the girl and pulled the corset from around her body, tossing it to the side before once more doing up the myriad buttons up the back of her dress. When he lay her once more on her back, Wendy seemed to be breathing more easily, her lips parted with no wheezing apparent and a faint tinge of colour coming back to her face.

Satisfied that she appeared as comfortable as possible, Peter blew out the candle and left the shelter to its sole occupant, returning to the fire and the cooking fish, their oil dripping down into the flames and sending up sparks to dance in the air.

Hunkering down, Peter moved the cooked fish away from the fire and prepared to consume the flesh, his fingers quickly stripping away the skin, picking the succulent white meat off the bones with evident enjoyment.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy drifted up from the depth of blackness to find herself laying on a rough bed of heavily scented pine needles. Blinking she stared up at the slanted roof not far above her head, the flicker of firelight dancing through the bower but shedding very little light. She lay still and tried to remember how she'd come to be lying there, her memory returning with a rush so that she suddenly sat up, instantly regretting the sudden move as her shoulder and neck shot hot pain down her back and arm. She moaned, drawing in a breath in harsh pants until the initial rush faded to a dull ache. With the pain eased she noticed that she was able to take a deep breath, the air rushing into her lungs without an restriction, her chest rising without the familiar feel of her corset limiting the movement. Cautiously she prodded her middle, noting immediately the absence of a piece of her intimate clothing. It also drew her attention to the apparent development of her body from childish immaturity to something approximating her mothers adult curves. Shocked, Wendy carefully cataloged other changes in her physical appearance by touch alone. Her hair was longer, her waist more nipped in, her hips more evident and her bosom positively lush. Unable to comprehend how such a change could have come about in such a short time, Wendy cried out in fright and shock, her face buried in her hands as she sat on the pine-scented bed, her shoulders shaking.

Peter had leapt up at the first sound of Wendy stirring, but remained outside, suddenly and inexplicably shy of the girl. At her cry he abandoned his caution and rushed into the shelter, finding her hunched over her knees, her face hidden, sobs shaking her slender frame.

"What's the matter.......why are you crying?"

Startled, Wendy dropped her hands and scuttled backwards, one hand held out to ward him off. Peter, equally alarmed, sat back on his haunches, his face in shadow, the fire behind him silhouetting his body.

"Keep away......don't touch me!"

"I'm not touching you..why did you cry out?"

"What happened? Why am I here?"

"You were attacked.....by a wolf....I killed it."

"A wolf? I didn't know....how long have there been wolves in Neverland?"

"How should I know....they've always been here, and this is their territory."

"What? It bit me....."

"Yes...it did. Here...let me take a look..." Peter stretched out his hand, but Wendy shrank further back and Peter hesitated.

"It'll have to be dressed, otherwise it'll get infected....but of course, if you don't want me too..." Peter tailed off, turning as if to go.

"No...wait....infected?"

"Yeah...all oozing and raw and painful....or...you could let me wash it and put some of my salve on it."

Wendy chewed on her lip, a twinge from her shoulder deciding the matter.

"Please..."

"You'll have to come and sit by the fire, I can't see anything in here." Snagging his pack, Peter left the shelter, giving Wendy plenty of room.

Feeling sore and confused, Wendy rose and, bent over, made to leave the lean-to. Near the entrance her feet became entangled with something lying on the ground. Reaching down she felt the folds of her corset, the strings dangling when she lifted it up. Shocked she dropped the garment, wondering how he'd managed to get it off without removing her clothes. A blush suddenly suffused her face as she realised he couldn't have, her arms coming up to cover her chest as her blush heated her skin to scorching.

"Are you coming out or not?" Peter's voice called.

Willing her fiery blush to subside, Wendy stepped clear of the shelter and slowly made her way to the fireside. Peter indicated a half log for her to sit on and Wendy sank slowly down, her arms still crossed over her chest.

Swallowing hard Wendy cleared her throat before speaking.

"Why did you.....why did you take off my...corset?"

"Is that what that is? Why do you wear it? You couldn't breath properly so I cut it off."

"Oh....Oh.....did you....er....did you have to....um...oh dear."

Wendy turned her head away, too embarrassed to continue. Peter was pulling out a small jar from the bottom of his pack and seemed not to notice her discomfort.

"You still haven't explained why anyone in their right mind would want to strap something like that around their chest."

"Its not something...oh I can't talk about that....you're a boy, for heaven's sake."

Peter just shrugged, pulling out a clean looking cloth and gathering up the water skin.

"Seems like a damn silly thing to be wearing, if you ask me."

Getting to his feet he padded over to her and positioned himself behind her.

"Turn away from the fire so the light is on you back, here." Peter instructed, his fingers pointing the direction he wanted her to face. Shifting, Wendy complied, bundling up her hair and pulling it out of the way over her uninjured shoulder. Immediately Peter reached to undo the buttons of her dress and Wendy flinched away, Peter pausing and meeting her frightened eyes.

"I can't see it through the material....I'll have to lower your dress...its pretty chewed up as it is."

Her face flaming again, Wendy nodded, turning her head way and presenting her back to him, his fingers quickly undoing the buttons, Peter grinning wryly to himself as he noticed his rather haphazard attempt previously with several buttons misaligned. With the dress opened at the back to the waist, Peter eased the material down, careful not to touch the bite wound. Wendy hissed in pain as he pulled the fabric away, dried blood making it stick. With her back and upper arm exposed, Peter peered at the wound before wetting the cloth and starting to clean. Wendy bit her lip so as not to cry out but her body would shudder every now and then as Peter cleaned the blood and dirt from her skin. He was as gentle as possible, all his former aggression apparently forgotten as he smeared a fragrant salve over the puncture marks, his finger tips soothing across her smooth skin in a circular motion, Wendy's muscles relaxing under his ministrations.

"I had to tear some more off your underskirt to make these bandages." Peter told her matter of fact, Wendy stiffening up again as he secured a pad made of her petticoat over her injury before lifting her dress back up to cover it, his practiced fingers making short work of the buttons to secure the edges of the blouse back together.

"Thank you." Wendy whispered, acutely aware of his close proximity, the warmth of his body evident even through the thickness of her clothes.

As if realising that he was staring, Peter suddenly moved, clearing his throat and gathering up his supplies, stuffing them into the pack before moving back to the other side of the fire. As Wendy shifted to once more face the flames, she noticed the white linen wrapped around his forearm.

"You were injured?"

Peter glanced down at his arm and lifted a shoulder. "It's just a scratch...I've had worse."

The fire crackled and spat, filling the silence between them. Peter shifted, his body still tingling and uncomfortably tight. It had almost seemed as if a lightning bolt had hit him when his fingers first smoothed the ointment over her pale skin, its texture like silk and so warm to touch. His body's reaction had shocked him, the blood starting to pound through his veins as he smoothed the unguent into her wound, his nose inhaling the sweet scent of her hair while his guts wound themselves into a knot. He found himself staring at her profile, at the sweep of her lashes, the swell of her lips the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she held the dress from falling further down her arms. It all combined to leave him in an unbearably aroused state, his fingers almost trembling as he secured the lid on the jar and jammed it back in the pack. Glad to leave her disturbing presence, Peter glanced at her across the fire, his skin blushing so hotly that he scowled ferociously at the fire to curb his embarrassment.

Wendy saw the scowl and sighed inwardly. It appeared their short peace was at an end. Her head was nodding when Peter suddenly moved, startling her.

"I just wanted.....I forgot.....I cooked a fish...do you want it?"

Peter had seen her flinch and winced inwardly, busying himself wrapping the now cooled fish in a leaf before holding out towards her. After a second, Wendy reached over and took it, careful not to touch him. Casting about for any excuse to remove himself from her vicinity, Peter grabbed the water skin and held it high.

"I'm just going to....er...fill this. Won't be gone long."

Not waiting for a reply, he darted from the campsite and was quickly swallowed up by the dark jungle. Relieved beyond measure, he jogged to the pond and dived in, still holding the goatskin. The water felt heavenly against his hot body, cooling and soothing and abating the confused feeling coursing through his blood. Gazing up he stared at the stars so high above his head, the water lapping under his chin as he floated.

"She's a spy....must remember...she's a spy....she's a spy..." He repeated the mantra as he filled the water skin and climbed out of the pool. Feeling much calmer and in control, Peter walked back to the fire, dropping the skin by Wendy as he sauntered past. She eyed him warily before lifting the skin to her mouth and drinking deeply.

Peter studiously avoided watching her drink, finding himself a stick to poke at the embers until he heard her speak.

"Thank you....."

Still unwilling to submit to the lure of looking at her, Peter only grunted and continued his fire-poking.

The silence stretched until he felt almost ready to scream with the anticipation. Feeling his muscles jump with the tension he was about to leap to his feet when she spoke again.

"What are you going to do with me Peter?"

"Wha...?"

"I mean...I don't know how I came here...or even why I am here. I think something important has happened but I don't know how, or why and I want to know?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Why? Because I left a family back in London who must be frantic about me....we were visiting our new home...I don't know how I've been transported from there...to here...its all so perplexing. On top of that there are the changes."

"Changes?"

"In you....you look so much older....almost grown up...a man." She paused, expecting him to protest that he wasn't a man and would never be one, but he didn't, which further confused her.

She carried on. "And there are changes in me..." She gestured down at herself. "My skirts are too short, my bodice too tight..." Her face took on a rosy hue, Wendy ducking her head to avoid eye contact. "I think I'm older too..but that's impossible.....its only been six months since I saw you, and I'm only supposed to be thirteen and a half...but all this...." She gestured to herself again, acutely self-conscious. "suggests that I'm closer to possibly sixteen...maybe even seventeen. I don't know how that's possible...."

"Maybe you lost your memory.....like....like I did."

Wendy stared at him. "You lost your memory?"

"Yeah...." He poked at the fire, sending sparks into the air that highlighted the frown between his eyes. "I just woke up one day and found myself stretched out on the beach. I don't know how I came to be there or why, I just...was."

"Oh Peter....then you really don't remember me, or the Boys or Hook...."

"Nope....no idea."

"How long is it since you...woke up?"

"How should I know.....days, weeks...months...maybe years....."

Wendy stared thoughtfully into the fire. Drawing her knees up she rested her chin on her folded arms. "I can't believe this is happening."

This time the silence stretched out for a long time, Peter intent on the fire, stirring occasionally to add more fuel, his eyes flicking up to look at his companion before returning to contemplate the flames again. Wendy was similarly occupied, her thoughts chasing each other around in her head like rats, her eyes staring blankly at the fire, unheeding of the silent boy across from her.

Eventually the shock of the day and her ordeal caught up with her and she yawned expansively, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

"Oh goodness.....pardon me."

Taking that as his cue, Peter rose lithely to his feet and stretched, the muscle and sinews of his arms corded in the firelight.

"I'm for bed, I'll bank the fire so that it burns most of the night. It'll keep any nosy animals away while we sleep."

Wendy wrapped her arms around her knees and turned her head to stare at the small shelter behind them. Peter busied himself collecting more firewood and banking the fire so that it burned brightly, forcing Wendy to scramble to her feet to avoid getting singed.

She stood there for a moment, looking around the glade before she fixed her bright eyes on Peter.

"You said you filled the water skin. Is there a stream nearby? I'd really like to...er....freshen up."

"Oh...um...sure....its a pond, just beyond the tree line."

Wendy stared in the direction he'd pointed and eyed the dark shadows with ill disguised dread. Peter correctly interpreted her look and walked around the fire. After hesitating a moment, he wiped his palm on his now dry trousers and held out a hand to her.

"I'll show you where it is, and stay with you until you've finished..you'll be quite safe."

Surprised at his sudden consideration, Wendy hesitated for a long moment before making her decision and slipping her hand into his. Immediately he folded his warm fingers over hers, tugging her forward.

"Its not far....come on."

The night was not cold, but still Wendy shivered, as much in trepidation than a chill, her hand tinglingly aware of being clasped in his much bigger palm, her eyes straining to pierce the gloom of the trees as Peter led the way to the pond. Suddenly the trees thinned and she could make out the glimmer of moonlight on water. The surface was like a mirror and she could see the stars reflected in it.

"I'll just be....er....over here." Peter explained, letting go of her hand and holding his own up as if to ward her off. "I promise not to peek." So saying he turned his back and melted into the shadows, leaving Wendy to stare after him for a second before dropping to her knees and dipping her hands into the cool water.

After bathing her face and arms, Wendy sat on the bank and dangled her feet in the water. She was horribly confused, one minute Peter was treating her like an enemy, binding her hands and gagging her, the next he was soothing her hurts and holding her hand. It was all too confusing. None of what she'd learnt from him gave a hint as to what had happened to either of them. His story was as garbled as her own. There appeared to be little of the Peter she had known in the young man he had become, apart from his self confidence and bravado. She sighed, kicking up a wave with her toes, the moonlight rippling across the pond until it was smooth again. Again she found herself overtaken by a yawn, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Her shoulder ached but whatever Peter had put on it had certainly soothed the worst of the pain. Remembering his touch made her cheeks start to heat again and she scooped up some water, patting her skin to cool the hectic flush. A rustle behind her alerted her to his return.

"We should be getting back." He announced. Wendy sighed to herself and rose to her feet, brushing down her skirts before turning to him.

"I'm ready."

"Take my hand..I wouldn't want you to get lost in the dark."

Almost eagerly she slipped her fingers into his, a tingle sensation shooting up her arm at the contact. Silently they padded back to the campsite, the light from the flames flickering through the trees like a welcoming beacon.

"You take the shelter, I'll sleep by the fire..." Peter started to say only to have Wendy interrupt him.

"Oh no....you must sleep in the shelter..I couldn't..."

"You can't sleep outside!" Peter's voice was starting to rise, irritated that she chose to argue with him over such a trivial matter. "You sleep in there....that's the end of it."

"Well really.....how rude. I was only...."

She found herself cut off with a chopping motion of his hand. Fuming she pressed her lips together and swung around on her heel, her hair swinging out and swiping Peter across the face before he could lean back out of the way.

He stood, legs apart, fists balled on his hips, watching her as she flounced away, only ducking slightly to enter the lean to, never once looking back. Scowling he flopped to the ground and poked savagely at the fire.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was two hours later that the first drops of rain woke him, their cool droplets rousing him, the fire hissing as it turned the intruders into steam. Gazing with dismay up at the sky, Peter watched the heavy clouds scudding across the moon, totally obscuring it. Cursing under his breath he quickly gathered up the leaf wrapped remains of the fish and his back-pack before heading for the pine hut. At the entrance he hesitated, hearing the even breathing coming from within. A particularly large raindrop splattered across his shoulders and propelled him inwards. Dropping the pack to the floor he stealthily approached the sleeper, barely able to see in the rapidly darkening gloom. Undisturbed by her late night visitor Wendy slumbered on, her back to Peter. Satisfied that she wasn't about to wake up anytime soon, Peter settles himself on the other side of the small shelter, his back tickled by the pine fronds so that he had to inch clear of them to have any peace. This brought him closer to Wendy and he lay tensely listening to her breathing, ready to take flight if she stirred. She didn't, her back remaining turned towards him, her breathing even.

Relaxing, Peter listened to the hiss and spit of the fire as it battled the steady assault of the rain, the patter of drops on the roof above his head soothing him into a doze despite the hard surface of the ground.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy shifted on her scented mattress, a stick poking into her leg prompting her to open her eyes and stare at the foliage just inches from her nose. Daylight was starting to filter through the branches, barely penetrating the shelter but casting a pale light into the lean-to. She felt pleasantly relaxed and warm, her shoulder barely twinging when she shifted, the scent of pine enveloping her. Something warm was pressed up against her back and she frowned as she tried to place the sound now intruding on her slowly awakening senses. As realisation set in she went rigid with shock. Someone was laying behind her, breathing deeply and evenly against the back of her neck, the occasional muttered word issuing from the sleeper, unintelligible to Wendy. She tried to draw away from him but was shocked anew to find the weight of his arm pinning her down at the waist, his hand curled against her belly in a shockingly intimate position. Feeling panic start to curl in her throat, Wendy forced herself to breath evenly, fearful of waking the young man behind her. As he neither moved or awakened, Wendy found herself relaxing slightly, her body slumping as she reasoned that he'd tried nothing in the night and was unlikely to try anything now she was awake. As the tension flowed out of her the arm lying so lax about her middle suddenly tightened and she tensed up again, sure that Peter had stirred, but again he did nothing more than murmur in his sleep and remain unaware.

Very slowly she lowered her own hand and tried to lift the arm away from her body but this only provoked its tightening about her again and a grunted protest from the sleeper. Frustrated Wendy could only lay there and bite her lip, mortified to find herself in such a compromising situation. Young as she was, she was not unaware of the complete impropriety of her situation. One just did not allow a young man such liberties, but she was honest enough to allow that very few young women of her limited acquaintance would have had to contend with the situation she found herself in that morning.

Realising that her only choices were to lay back and doze off or rouse the sleeper and risk the awful embarrassment, Wendy chose the former, ignoring the arm and its owner and closing her eyes. Surprisingly she slept and when she awoke again she was alone with no evidence that she'd ever shared her accommodation with anything more than a few spiders. Brushing off her sadly crumpled clothes, Wendy rolled to her feet and bent to leave the hut, her eyes darting to the smouldering fire and wet ground still glistening with moisture from the rain during the night. Of Peter there was no sign, even his pack gone, the goat skin with it.

Thoroughly alarmed Wendy took a step and opened her mouth to call but just as suddenly she bit down hard on her lip and cut off her cry. If he had left her did she really want him to come back? Absently she reached up a hand to smooth her hair, encountering various bits of twiggery stuck in her locks.

"Good grief I must be a sight."

Taking the path they had traversed the previous night, Wendy made her way to the pond, its serene surface soothing her jangled nerves. Leaning down she peered at her reflection, trying to see what changes on her face were visible to complement the obvious ones on her body. Seeing her own face reflected back at her caused her no small comfort but the condition of her normally smooth hair made her sit up hurriedly. Glancing around to make sure she was alone, Wendy darted behind a bush to take care of her personal needs before settling herself on the bank and combing her disheveled crowning glory with her fingers to bring it into some sort of order.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter heard the sound of someone humming a tune and paused before leaving the shadows of the tree. Obviously Wendy had finally woken up and was sitting on the bank of the pond. Why she should be humming so contentedly he couldn't fathom, but he liked the sound and was content to listen. Waking up that morning had been both a shock and a profound pleasure, his nose pressed firmly against the nape of the girls neck, her scent and warmth prompting him to snake out the tip of his tongue and taste her skin, shocking himself at his boldness. Somehow he'd moved from his position across the tent to cuddle up behind her, his arm looped over her waist and curled against her stomach. It both alarmed and excited him, his usual morning reaction made more evident pressed up against the warm body in his arms. He almost made a move to draw her further into his embrace, enjoying the feel of her curves against his own when she murmured in her sleep, Peter instantly freezing. That small sound acted like a douse of cold water, Peter extracting himself with due care and scooting out of the lean to before he accidentally awoke her. Outside the morning was just starting, the sky still showing a few stars but quickly lightening as he stretched the kinks from his arms and back. Scratching idly at his belly, he smacked his lips and wondered what he should do about breakfast. It was too far to go back to the sea and fish, so he'd have to make do with whatever he could rustle up in the immediate area. He'd set a couple of snare traps during one of his trips to get firewood so he decided to check those first after he got the fire going again. The wood was damp and it took all his efforts to coax the flames once more but his skill won out and it was soon burning merrily.

That done he snagged his pack from the shelter, checked his weapons and set out for the snare. Luck was with him and it held a plump rabbit, only recently caught, its body still limp and warm. Well pleased he tucked it into his belt before setting off for the next trap. This was also sprung and he added another rabbit to his collection. Breakfast decided, he hunted briefly and was able to add nuts and fruit to the menu before he headed back to the camp, collecting some firewood on the way.

Entering the small clearing his eyes were drawn to the lean-to, quickly ascertaining that it was empty. Panic lanced through him but he quickly shrugged it off, if the silly girl had run he was damned if he'd miss out on breakfast to chase after her. He'd catch her soon enough and the smell of the rabbits was sure to lure her back if she was just hiding from him.

Smugly self assured he whistled softly as he prepared the conies, building up the fire to cook them. The morning was warming up and he worked quickly, cracking the nuts and nibbling on them as he waited for the rabbits to cook. Feeling restless and wanting to wash both the rabbit and wolf skins, he bundled them up together and tucked them under one arm, setting off for the pond.

As he approached he heard the humming, the tune joining the morning chorus of bird call, rising and falling in a musical cadence that delighted his ears and brought a smile to his face. He listened a little longer, easily picking up the repeating tune, wishing that he had his pipes with him so that he could play it himself. Peering through the branches he could see the girl sitting in a shaft of sunlight, her crumpled skirts settled around her like the petals of a flower, her hands busy combing out her long hair, occasionally finding, and plucking out bits of twig as she worked. Unable to help himself, Peter stared at the domestic scene, Wendy's humming turning into singing as she added words to the tune, softly at first, but soon gaining confidence, her voice sweet and clear.

All too soon Wendy appeared satisfied that she'd disentangled enough of her hair, her hands dropping until she leant forward to dabble them in the pond, her song trailing away.

Peter stepped forward, his mouth open to announce himself when his foot found a dead branch and snapped it loudly. Cursing his clumsiness, Peter saw Wendy twist around her expression frightened.

"Peter? Is that you?" Her voice carried a slight tremor and Peter cursed the branch for breaking the sweet spell.

Out of humor with himself more than her roughened his voice as he answered her curtly. "Who the hell were you expecting?"

Striding into the clearing by the pond he dropped the gory pelts to the grass, perversely pleased to see Wendy blanch as they unrolled, the blood glistening in the sunlight. Rising to her feet to distance herself from the bloody mess, she watched as Peter used his knife to scrape the remaining flesh from the skins, careful not to cut them.

"I didn't hear you.." She noted a flush painting the skin of his neck and a suspicion crept into her thoughts. "Were you watching me?"

Angry at being caught out, Peter kept his eyes on his work. "Why would I bother to do that.......you're just a girl. I bet you can't even gut a rabbit or scale a fish...what use are you?"

Hurt by his angry words, Wendy could only gasp her outrage. "Well really, its not necessary to be quite so rude...I only thought...oh blast it, you are quite horrid....and...and...I never want to speak to you again."

Horrified at her undignified outburst, Wendy fled the pond, running all the way back to the camp and throwing herself into the lean-to, her face buried in her arms as she raged at his unkind remarks.

Peter remained at the pond and doggedly continued his task, his lips moving as he worked, muttering to himself about the vagaries of females and why he had to be the one to find her. That he was ashamed at his churlish words he refused to admit but his cheeks burned for some time before he felt composed enough to roll up the pelts and return to the camp.

There he checked on the rabbits, sniffing appreciatively as their flesh cooked, the fat dripping into the flames and making them spit. He could see that Wendy was lying face down in the shelter and he felt a frission of shame for being so unkind to her. Wherever she came from and whatever she could or could not do, she was here now and he felt it his responsibility to care for her. How she had transformed from being his enemy to being his responsibility he didn't care to ponder, but somehow the reasoning had become irrelevant. She was here now and he had a duty to protect and care for her.

Collecting together some of the fruit and nuts and folding them into a leaf, he carried it to the hut and stood outside.

"Wendy?"

"Go away." Her muffled voice carried to him outside and he grimaced.

"I have some breakfast for you...its not much, but the rabbits will be cooked soon...won't you come out and eat with me."

"No...you're....you're a beast."

Sighing gustily, Peter bent down and laid his offering at the opening, pivoting on his heel and leaving it there.

Keeping his back to the shelter he resolutely ignored the sounds of Wendy rising from the bed, or the rustle of her unfolding the leaf package, a faint crunch alerting him to the fact that she was eating the nuts he'd gathered. Smiling to himself, he poked one of the rabbits with his knife and found it done. Careful to make sure that he remained turned away from her, Peter carried the cooked carcass to a flat rock and removed the spit before using his knife to joint it. Using leaves again he placed the pieces on them and carefully placed a portion by the log that Wendy had sat on the previous night. That done he settled himself down and proceeded to consume his breakfast, ignoring any evidence that Wendy was moving to take her seat by the fire and pick up the meat he placed there for her.

Careful to keep an unbearably smug smile off of his face, Peter licked his fingers after tossing the bone away and reached for the goat-skin. Tipping his head back he drank deeply before wiping his mouth, corking the skin and handing it to Wendy. Only then did he allow his eyes to meet hers. It was as if he was drowning, diving into the blue of her eyes until he felt his chest start to hurt because he'd forgotten how to breath.

"W-w-ater...?"

Wendy seemed similarly struck, her fingers still holding the joint of rabbit but her gaze intent of Peter's.

"Pardon?"

"Water...would you like...er...a drink?"

Blinking, Wendy broke the spell and reached out for the skin, their fingers brushing. Peter suddenly remembered to breath and sucked in a lungful of morning air, his heart beating erratically in his chest. Glancing down at his crossed legs he wondered what the hell was the matter with him that a pair of eyes could so entrance him as to forget how to breath.

Wendy was also berating herself internally, in her case for being such a ninny as to make calf-eyes at a boy who was rude, uncouth and a scoundrel to boot.

The rest of the breakfast, such as it was, passed in silence, neither party wanting to make a fool of themselves nor knowing what to talk about.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Wendy broached the question that had remained unanswered the night before.

"What are you going to do with me?"

Peter had been repacking his stuff and paused, glancing up to meet her eyes briefly.

"I don't know yet......are you a spy?"

"No!" Wendy replied hotly.

"Then you're not my prisoner...."

"Oh...."

Peter thrust the last of his belonging into the pack and fastened the catch.

"I guess I'll just have to take you home to where I live and we can decide then what to do with you."

"Your home?" Wendy echoed faintly, her hands clenching in her skirt.

"Well I don't live here, do I." Peter retorted, kicking dirt onto the fire to quench it. Wendy rose to her feet and stood back as he continued to cover the fire pit, scattering the stones to mask their use. She could see that he'd secured her now useless boots to one of the straps of his pack where they swung jauntily as he hoisted it onto his back.

"Um...how long will it take us to get to your....home?"

"A day or two, I guess....depends on the weather and how much you hold us back."

As expected Wendy instantly bristled at his comment, her chin lifting as she prepared to deliver a blistering retort. Well aware of her reaction Peter hooked the bundle of skins in one hand and tossed them to her, making her stagger and fumble the furs and completely distracting her from what she'd been about to say.

"If we make good time, we'll be halfway home by tonight...come on."

Not waiting for her to protest or comment, Peter strode out of the clearing, taking the path to the pond. Wendy cast a last glance around the small campsite and trotted smartly after him. She was not going to be the one to falter and hold him back if she had to crawl to keep up.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: Two - Together and Apart.
Rating: PG13 at least.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Neverland lay bathed in warm sunshine for the third day in a row, its jungles steaming from the rain the night before, mist shrouding the high peak of the mountain range that formed the spine of the island paradise. Along its sandy shores a calm sea lapped serenely, its surface sparkling as it reflected the morning sunlight like diamonds.

Deep in the depths of a forest two figures trudged onward, the one in front leading the way with long strides, the one following stumbling to keep up.

It was mid morning but already Wendy was feeling the effects of her prolonged tramp the previous day. True to her word, Wendy hadn't fallen behind despite the grueling pace set by Peter. Her feet had become as black as soot from the dust and dirt, the hem of her skirt almost as dirty as her toes. During the long day she'd kept her eyes fixed on the rough pack swaying from Peter's shoulders as he walked, her boots setting up a hypnotic rhythm until she tripped on a tree root and was brought abruptly back to the present.

Now, after a restless night, she was barely able to keep going, her feet sore and covered in stone bruises and cuts. Peter appeared to be oblivious to her discomfort, never asking if she needed to stop or enquiring as to her health and well being. Not prepared to give him the satisfaction of finding out just how much she was suffering, Wendy bit her lip and carried on. So absorbed had she become in her battle to keep up that she didn't notice that Peter had stopped, her nose connecting with his pack and sending her reeling back clutching her face.

Peter quickly turned and snaked out a hand to steady her as she swayed, while Wendy gingerly pressed her nose, her eyes watering from the abrupt contact.

"Hey steady on....what have you done now?"

She noted the irritated tone of voice and resolutely refused to give in to the tears threatening to fall.

"It's nothing....I just didn't realise you'd stopped."

"hmmmmm....I needed a drink and this looks as good a place as any."

He let go of her arm and went over to a fallen log, its surface covered in a pale, springy moss. Shedding his pack he pulled out the goat skin and tipped it up to allow the water to cascade into his mouth. With his attention elsewhere, Wendy hobbled over to a soft looking patch of grass and sank down, careful to pull her skirts over her feet to hide their condition. Having drunk his fill, Peter handed the skin to Wendy after wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Taking a long swig Wendy swallowed gratefully, the cool water soothing her dusty throat. Her thirst satisfied, she handed the skin back before leaning against a convenient rock and closing her eyes for a second.

In thinking that Peter was unaware of her discomfort, Wendy did him a disservice. Peter was well aware that she was limping, having seen the state of her feet before she had a chance to cover them that morning. His own were as tough as leather and shrugged off any contact with sticks and stones, but hers were soft and white and used to shoes, so it was no surprise that a second day of trekking through the woods was proving a trial.

He had set a tough pace the previous day, sure that she would soon be whining and complaining for him to slow down or stop altogether, but she never did, her mouth set in a grim line as she followed his lead, only stopping when he did, and setting off without a word of complaint. He had to admire her courage if not her common sense. Even now she tried to hide her feet from him, her face pinched as she tucked her skirts more firmly around her legs.

Stuffing the goatskin back into his pack he rose to his feet, turning his back on Wendy so as not to see the effort she put into getting her feet under her in readiness to set off. He studiously ignored the muffled cry as she placed her weight on her left foot, the sole quite bruised from a particularly sharp rock. Making a show of checking his knife he waited for her to take one hobbling step before swinging around and facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"And just how long do you think you're last?"

Surprised at being caught out, Wendy lifted her chin and straightened her back. "There's nothing wrong, I'll keep up."

"Nothing wrong...." Peter muttered dropping to one knee and grasping her ankle in his hand. Wendy tried to resist but even that slight movement sent a lance of pain up her leg making her gasp. While she used his shoulder to balance herself, Peter lifted her foot, much like lifting a horses hoof, and inspected the sole. Despite his gentle touch she couldn't help a sob escaping as he let the foot down. The pressure on his shoulder increased as she rested more of her weight on him and less on her injured foot. Rising slowly, he snaked an arm around her waist and almost lifted her over to the tree he'd used for a seat.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked crossly, rummaging in the pack for the jar of ointment he used as an all-purpose cure for any injury. Wendy didn't bother to reply, too grateful to be seated and not resting her weight on her abused feet to worry about how angry he sounded.

"I promised myself I wouldn't hold you up..." she gritted through her teeth as he soaked a piece of cloth and grasped her ankle once more. Kneeling in front of her he rested her foot on his thigh and started to clean it. A hot flush rose into her face as she watched him work, his hands careful not to jar the tender flesh as the water revealed the cuts and bruises marking the skin of her feet.

"Well you're certainly holding me up now." Peter retorted.

Incensed, she tried to jerk her foot from his grasp, his fingers closing around her leg and holding her still effortlessly. Glancing up at her stormy face he suddenly grinned, the smile transforming his features and sending Wendy's heart jumping about in her chest.

"If you keep still I'll have this done in no time but if you keep fidgeting it'll just take longer....unless of course that's what you want?"

Gasping her outrage as his fingers slid teasingly up her calf, Wendy inadvertently put all her weight on her other foot, the pain causing her to cry out and all but slither off the log and into Peter's lap. In the ensuing tangle of limbs Wendy had to fight hard not to burst into tears of frustration and pain. Peter tried to help her but found his hands slapped away as Wendy righted herself, crying out again when she tried to use her feet to lever herself more upright against the log.

"This is ridiculous." Peter muttered. Stuffing the rags and jar, along with the goat skin, into his pack he hoisted it onto his shoulders, her boots hitting his arm when he swung about. Wendy watched him as he stood over her looking angrier than ever.

Hunkering down in front of her he rested his forearms on his bent knees and frowned at her.

"Put your arms around my neck."

Wendy stared at him. "Wh-at?"

"You heard me....put your arms around my neck."

"Why should I do that?" Wendy asked, confused.

"So I can carry you....stupid."

"Oh....but I'll be too heavy."

Huffing his annoyance, Peter reached out his long arms and gathered her up, one under her legs, the other around her waist until she was pressed against his chest. "Now put your arms around my neck."

Too astonished to argue, Wendy did as he bid, her fingers gripping the sun warmed skin, her body pressed against his quite improperly. Using the strength in his thighs, Peter rose to his feet, Wendy clasped in his arms, her own wrapped around his neck.

"You can let go a little bit......you're strangling me." He croaked. At once he felt Wendy's body, her arms loosening their death grip.

"Sorry..it's just......I've never been carried like this before."

"Yes you have." Peter replied, looking down to catch her look of surprise as he started to walk forwards.

"No I haven't, I think I'd remember being carried if I had been."

"Nope...you weren't exactly awake the last time."

"Last time?"

"You fainted after the wolf attacked....I carried you to the hut."

"Oh....you did?"

"Uhuh."

Wendy felt a blush creep up her cheeks and tried to turn her head away but Peter shifted her in his grip and she found herself pressed more firmly against the hard velvet of his chest.

"Don't fidget or I'll drop you."

Instantly she tensed and Peter glanced down at her again.

"Relax, or I will drop you...."

Refusing to meet his eyes, Wendy consciously relaxed her stiff limbs, her head naturally falling onto his shoulder, the rhythm of his walk rocking her.

"You won't be able to carry me for long, I'm too heavy."

Peter snorted rudely. "Hardly more than a feather, and certainly no more than a pig, so stop worrying about it."

Incensed that he'd likened her to a pig, Wendy opened her mouth to retort but just as quickly closed it. Being held in his arms was infinitely more comfortable than walking on her poor feet, however long he was able to do so.

All too quickly he was lowering her to sit on the banks of a stream that gurgled its way between the trees, sunlight dappling its slowly flowing surface. Gingerly Wendy lowered her feet into the water, hissing at the first contact, but gradually relaxing as the cool liquid soothed her cuts and numbed the bruises.

"I have to go and find something for our lunch. Don't wander off, I'll be back soon."

Leaving the pack by her side, Peter quickly disappeared into the brush, leaving Wendy to stare after him.

Sighing she returned her attention to the stream, carefully moving her feet to send the current swirling around her ankles. If she lived to be a hundred she would never be able to fathom his changeable moods. One minute he was ignoring her, the next treating her like the most fragile porcelain, one moment scowling, the next dazzling her with a smile that made her heart thump.

"Infuriating male!"

As the minutes passed she started to feel nervous, her feet forgotten as she stared around at the undergrowth surrounding her. Apart from bird song and the wind in the canopy the forest was quiet, the stream making the most noise as it gurgled around some rocks at its center. As the feeling increased that she was being watched, she twisted and turned in a vain effort to see in all direction at once. A movement caught her eye and suspended the breath in her lungs until she let it out in a relieved huff. The rabbit that had emerged from the thicket regarded the girl sitting on the grass with mild disgust before hopping away again. Wendy drooped, too happy to have had her fears so roundly disabused.

"Just a rabbit...not a wolf." She chastised herself under her breath.

The minutes slid by until more than an hour had passed and still there was no sign of Peter's return. Wendy fidgeted, her feet now quite numb from the water, her position on the bank cast in the shade with the rise of the sun to midday. She was just about to move when something was thrown down beside her and she screamed in surprise.

"Ya miss me?" Peter's voice chuckled in her ear as she sat with her eyes closed, one hand pressed over her thumping heart, her limbs trembling. Just as suddenly, anger replaced her fright and she rounded on Peter, her eyes blazing.

"You seem to take some perverse delight in frightening me to death!"

Peter flopped down beside her on the cool grass and turned his head to grin at her.

"But you turn such a nice colour when your angry."

Wendy could feel the blush suffuse her face, the heat scorching her skin. Mortified, she felt hot tears prick her eyes, her bottom lip trembling as she fought for composure. Unable to stop the single tear that hovered on her lower lashes from overflowing and trailing wetly down her cheek, she sucked in her bottom lip and bit it hard to stem any further signs of weakness. But it was too late, Peter saw the tear and was instantly contrite. Rising to his knees he leant closer and reached out long brown fingers to capture her chin and turn her back around to face him.

Their eyes locked, wet blue with contrite green, and it seemed that time stopped.

"I'm sorry I gave you a fright.....its just....don't cry, it was just a bit of fun."

Feeling his warm fingers holding her chin in a gentle grasp, all Wendy's hot words of anger and pique flew out of her head, her lips parting to say the words only for them to remain locked on her tongue and never uttered. Staring into his eyes she could see flecks of gold swirling in their depths, the thick lashes giving them a smoky look. Peter appeared to be similarly struck, his attention wandering between the limpid pools of her sky blue eyes to the rosy lushness of her parted lips and the tempting cavity of her mouth hidden behind them. He could feel the corners of him own mouth tilt upwards in a shy smile, Wendy echoing the small movement, her small pearls of teeth just visible as her lips moved. As he watched another tear spilled over her lower lids and trickled slowly down the smooth flesh of her cheek, his eyes tracing its path until it paused at the corner of her mouth. Suddenly aware of how close their faces had drawn, Peter closed the distance and snaked out his tongue to capture the salty morsel into his own mouth. He watched Wendy's eyes widen in surprise and he grinned wickedly, rolling the taste of that tear on his taste buds.

"Hmmmm....sweet."

His whispered words broke the spell and Wendy jerked back from his grip on her chin, her lashes sweeping down to cover her confusion, her face so quickly averted that he found himself facing the curtain of her hair. Curling his fingers into a fist, he sighed inwardly and backed away, confused by his attraction to this girl but thrilled that she had let him so close to her. Still crouching down, he turned away and pivoted on his heels, bending forward to snag the vine wrapped parcel that had caused her such a fright in the first place.

Staring down at the two plump birds he's managed to snare, he suddenly came to a decision and swung about, dumping the feathered bodies into Wendy's lap.

"Pluck these...I'll get a fire going."

Wendy watched him walk away, bending down now and then to collect a rock or a dead branch, leaving her with a lap full of dead birds. Ignoring a brief bout of queasiness, Wendy stared down at the birds and tried to figure out the best way to remove the feathers. After a couple of false starts she got a good grip and started to denude the carcasses, all the time acutely aware of Peter behind her collecting rocks and firewood while she worked. By the time he had a fire blazing merrily, her skirt was covered in downy feathers and the two birds were plucked. Mutely she held them out to Peter when he approached. Taking them he squatted by the stream and washed them before slitting the birds open from crop to stern and removing the gizzards. Wendy watched all this, keen to learn what needed doing. She had frequently seen chickens in their plucked and un-plucked state but all the messy business of gutting and sometimes neck stringing had been left to the cook to take care of. Now she was having to cope with an environment where the food was still on the hoof, so to speak, and learning how to prepare the bodies for cooking was something she was going to have to learn.

Satisfied that the birds were now ready to be spitted and roasted, Peter lay them on a clean leaf while he took two stout twigs and sharpened the ends. He was well aware that Wendy was watching everything he did, so he made sure she could see what he was doing. Once the birds were set near the flames he stuck his knife in the sandy soil to clean the blade.

"What do you want me to do with these feathers?"

Peter glanced over at her and contemplated the feathers sticking not only to her clothes but also several in her hair. Restraining his urge to grin, he gestured to the pack.

"Bundle them in the draw string bag you'll find in the pack."

He watched as Wendy stuffed the feathers into the bag, several escaping and wafting around the glade.

"What do you use them for?" Wendy asked as she pulled the bag closed and returned it to the pack.

"My pillow of course." Peter told her cheekily, turning back to watch the birds cook.

"Oh....of course."

Wendy was starting to feel chilled in the shade and had decided to try and move closer to the fire. She had barely lifted her feet out of the water and swung them onto the bank when she found Peter beside her, his arms once more hooking her behind the knees and waist and lifting her effortlessly into the air. In surprise at his move, she clutched at his neck, her face pressed against his as he swung her around and carried her over to the fire. Carefully he lowered her to the ground before releasing her and returning to the bank for the pack.

With her chilled toes stretched out to the fire and her back warmed by the sun, Wendy felt remarkably content. She watched Peter feed the fire with twigs and branches, the birds turning a rich golden brown, their juices dripping into the flames. Every now and then Peter would glance up and catch her watching him, his lips curving into a smile which she returned. When his attention returned to the birds, Wendy took the opportunity to drink her fill of his altered appearance, her gaze taking in everything from the top of his sun bleached head to the ends of his exceedingly grubby toes. Whatever had happened in the short time since she'd last seen him, it had taken the raw material of the young, athletic, sword wielding boy and created a tall, well built, muscular young man, the burnished curls now long blond locks in dire need of a trim, the lean, boyish body expanded into wide shoulders and a well defined chest above a flat stomach. As her eyes traveled lower she wondered what had happened to the leaves he used to wear, the replacement, a pair of well worn, tatty breeches appeared to be a poor substitute.

His long legs, like the rest of him, were burnt as brown as a berry, the sunlight highlighting the fine down of blonde hairs coating the taut skin visible below the frayed edge of the trousers.

When her gaze returned to his face she found one eyebrow quirked and a broad grin curving his mouth, her inspection noted.

"Do I pass muster?"

"I have no idea what you mean." Wendy retorted, turning her head to stare at the brook, her cheeks stained pink at being caught out.

"Of course not....." Peter laughed, the sound unbearably smug to Wendy's sensitive hearing.

Turning back to face him, Wendy found her mouth lifting at the corners as if on their own volition, echoing the grin still painting his face.

"I was just noting the changes since I saw you last and wondering why you were no longer wearing the leaves you had before."

Peter snorted in derision. "Leaves? Who the hell wears leaves? I was washed up without a stitch on and found these...." He stopped abruptly.

"You found them?" Wendy prompted.

Accepting the inevitable, Peter sighed and prepared to be quizzed. "If you must know, they were washed up with a lot of other flotsam on the same beach I woke up on...I'd assumed it was all from the shipwreck I'd survived."

"Oh....did you ever find any..." Wendy paused. "er...bodies or other survivors?"

"Nope....just me and a bunch of other peoples belonging."

"Oh." Wendy tried to imagine what could have happened and could only suppose that at some point the Jolly Roger must have either been wrecked or the powder magazine exploded, which would explain the wreckage on the beach, but not why Peter was washed up or why he appeared so much older than before.

"Yeah....oh." Peter echoed.

"And you've never seen anyone else on this island since then? No Indian's or.....or....other people?"

Wendy didn't know why she didn't ask about the fairies and mermaids, but something stopped her.

"Nope....no-one.....until you."

Wendy's brow furrowed for a second before she continued. "You accused me of being a spy....if there's no-one on the island...who did you think I was spying for?"

Peter glanced up sheepishly. "You asked if I'd ever seen anyone on the island.....and the answer is no, but that doesn't mean I haven't seen people off the island."

"Off the island?"

"Yeah....sometimes late at night, I hear.....singing." Peter didn't look at her, his gaze intent on the fire.

"Singing?" Wendy repeated, "um....is it male or female?"

"How should I know.....it's just....singing."

"How odd. Can you make out any of the words?"

"No....its a sort of wail, going up and down and as soon as I'm fully awake or go towards the sound it stops and I can't find out where it comes from."

"But you've seen people off the island...do you mean in a ship or something?"

Again Peter avoided meeting her eye, a flush staining his neck. "Not exactly."

Frustrated at his obtuseness, Wendy rolled her eyes. "Then what do you mean?"

Peter frowned at the fire, poking the flames roughly with his stick. "What does it matter what I mean....I can never get close to them."

"Them who?"

Wendy saw his face work as if he was fighting a battle to stop the words leaving his lips. Suddenly he looked up and pinned her in place with an angry look. "Bloody mermaids, at least I think they are....alright, you happy now?....I see women swimming out in the water sometimes! Satisfied?"

Peter had practically roared the answer at her, his face flushed crimson. Jumping to his feet he made to leave, his body tense with embarrassment.

"Peter wait......I've seen the mermaids too....the last time I was here, you took me to meet them when we needed to find out where my brothers were being held captive."

Slowly, as if pulled by strings Peter turned back to face her, his expression still angry but also curious. "You've seen them?"

"Yes......you didn't imagine them.....they are real, they live in Mermaid Lagoon."

"But Mermaids.....aren't real."

"In Neverland they are...did you think they'd sent me to spy on you?"

"Not exactly...." Sitting back down by the fire, he resumed his poking of the embers, casting occasional glances at Wendy. Hoping to hear more, she remained silent. Sucking in a huge breath before letting it out slowly, Peter spoke again.

"I've seen other things too.....strange things I can't exactly explain."

Sure that she must be laughing at him, Peter glanced up and subjected Wendy to a searching stare. Something he saw in her face must have reassured him because he only huffed a little before continuing.

"Late at night, just before I go to sleep I sometimes hear a sound like the tinkling of tiny bells and lights darting about the tree trunks. They never come too close and I thought they were just big firefly's, or some other kind of glowing bug, but always there's this chiming sound and no bug would make that sorta sound."

Wendy had clasped her hands together and held them in front of her lips, bursting to tell him what his fireflies really were, but she held back, preferring to let him talk. Keeping his eyes on the flames Peter continued.

"And sometimes..." He gave a crooked smile. "This is gonna sound crazy, but sometimes I think I hear a clock ticking!"

Receiving only silence from his listener, Peter raised his eyes, expecting derision. Instead he met Wendy's excited gaze, her fingers pressed against her lips as if to stop herself speaking.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Yes Peter....I do."

"Then tell me....what are these things?"

Dropping her gaze, Wendy fiddled with her skirt, unsure how to broach her explanations.

"First you must promise not to say anything until I'm finished." Wendy charged him, raising her lashes to stare back at him.

"I promise..."

"No I mean it Peter.....you must promise not to scoff, or make some silly remark....otherwise I won't tell you."

"I promise...." Peter repeated, lifting one hand and extending his first finger to make a gesture over his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die.."

Despite his assurance Wendy regarded him solemnly for a long moment before dropping her gaze and staring into the fire.

"I will tell you who and what the bells and bright lights are and the ticking you hear, but first I must ask you a question. Do you remember the name....Tinkerbell?"

Peter stared blankly at her, shaking his head from side to side.

"Oh dear....then I can only assume there must be a reason why she hasn't been around, maybe she knows what's been happening."

"She?"

"Yes, Tinkerbell is a she....she is a.....fairy."

Peter's brow furrowed and his lips parted but Wendy raised a finger and gave him a speaking look which he noted and shut his mouth with a snap.

"Those big, bright bugs that you saw must be fairies keeping an eye on you, the chiming sound is how they talk. Every one on Neverland could understand them except me and my brothers. Tinkerbell was your fairy Peter, she was your...best friend. You told me on the trip back to our home that she even drank poison for you to save you from Hook's treachery."

"Poison?"

Wendy raised her finger again and Peter had to bite down hard on his tongue to stop the questions he longed to ask from flowing out.

"I can only assume that they realise you've lost the ability to understand them and they come around just to check on you, never coming close enough for you to make out they are really tiny fairies."

Wendy stared into the flames again, marshaling her thoughts.

"The ticking sound comes from a clock that was swallowed by the biggest crocodile in the world. He carries the clock around inside him and it serves to warn his prey that he's near."

"But...."

"Peter, you promised!"

She watched him squirm, his lips clamped together, his eyes brimming with questions.

"The last time I saw the crocodile was the night we flew away from Neverland. You were fighting Captain Hook high up in the rigging and the crocodile appeared beside the ship. As the Captain lost his happy thoughts he started to sink in the air and the closer he got to the sea the higher the crocodile leap out of the water until eventually the crocodile was able to swallow the Captain in one bite."

Peter was now positively hopping about, as much as one can when sitting cross legged on the ground.

Wendy fixed him with a glare before reluctantly nodding her head to give him permission to ask his questions.

"You say they're fairies? But surely there are no such things...."

"PETER! Don't say another word.....if you say you don't believe in them than one of them will die...you must never say you don't believe in them, its akin to murder to do so."

Peter looked at her askance but didn't scoff, her expression too serious for him to laugh at.

"Okay, so fairies exist and apparently one of them was my best friend....why hasn't this Tinkerbell tried to contact me?"

"Maybe she can't, maybe what ever caused you to be washed up on that shore and the Jolly Roger apparently destroyed, also killed her or drove her away and she hasn't come back yet."

"Alright....then if this ship exists, she must have had a crew...what happened to them?"

"I don't know Peter.....perhaps they went down with the ship."

"And why was I fighting this Captain Hook?.....I don't have a sword and I'm sure I've never used one before."

"Well you did....." Wendy sighed," you even taught me how to wield a sword."

This time Peter did give a short of laughter. "But you're a girl....girls don't fight and they certainly don't know how to use a sword."

"Much you know Mister smarty pants. I and the Lost Boys kept the crew busy, fighting them off while you were mucking about in the rigging with Hook, so don't tell me I don't know how to fight with a sword."

"And that's another thing," Peter started, "how could I be fighting someone up in the rigging of a ship? It would be useless, you'd need your hands free just to hang on to the ropes."

"Oh....I guess I didn't mention one important part of that fight."

"And that would be?"

"Er...you could....fly."

"I could fly?" Peter started to flap his arms, his face splitting into a grin that quickly transformed into a laugh, Peter falling over onto his side as the laughter grew until he was almost howling, thumping the ground and gasping. Wendy glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. Every now and then Peter would pause in his merriment and glance over at Wendy, but the sight of her stern expression sent him off on another laughing fit, his eyes watering from the dust as he rolled on the ground clutching his middle. Still laughing he leap to his feet a trifle unsteadily and staggered about flapping his arms before collapsing again and whooping. When he finally calmed down he flopped cross legged once more by the fire occasionally hiccuping as he regained his composure, snickering to himself and muttering about flying.

"Oh you had be going there for awhile... you tell a good story Wendy.....mermaids, fairies, ticking crocodiles, a pirate Captain.....could he fly too?"

"Only when he shook Tinkerbell over his head and covered himself in fairy dust..."

"Of course...." And with that Peter started to laugh again, much to Wendy's disgust.

"I don't care if you don't believe me.....its true, all of it....I saw them all the last time I was here."

"Are you sure you didn't hit the old noggin when you arrived here and dream it all?" Peter quipped, still grinning.

"You are such a....a....a....BOY!" As much as she was able to, Wendy turned away from the fire and glowered at the trees.

"Well at least I'm not some silly girl daydreaming up daft stories about big, glowing bugs being fairies, or a branch tapping on a tree as a crocodile with indigestion from eating a clock....or....or.."

"What about the singing?"

"Its probably just the wind whistling through a hole in the rocks..."

"And the mermaids?"

"Seals....or...or....dolphins."

Angry at his dismissal Wendy turned back to face him. "Then why bother to ask what they were if you had already worked it out.....hmmm?"

"I was just teasing you....seeing what you'd say...I just never realised you had such an imagination."

Incensed, Wendy felt fit to burst, her face flushed scarlet with anger, her small hands curled into fists that longed to box his arrogant ears for him.

As if realising that he'd probably gone too far, Peter made a fuss of checking the roasting fowl and found them cooked. Pulling them out of the flames he dropped them onto two waiting leaves and removed the skewers.

"They're a bit hot, so don't burn yourself on them." He cautioned, holding out the first bird.

"I'm not hungry...thank you." Wendy sniffed, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Don't be silly.....of course you're hungry." Receiving only a shrug in reply, he sighed and got to his feet, carrying the cooked bird to lay on the ground beside her. "Eat girl...."

Ignoring the tantalising smell of the bird, Wendy kept her gaze steadfastly turned away, hurt beyond measure that he chose to dismiss everything she'd said as a girlish fancy, a daydream.

Peter returned to his side of the fire and, using his knife, cut the bird open allowing the steam to escape before he started to pull the flesh off the bones and stuff the meat into his mouth. Seeing that Wendy wasn't touching hers he made loud appreciative moans and smacked his lips as he ate but she ignored him until he shrugged and gave his attention to his meal.

Wendy kept up her air of injured pride for as long as it took her stomach to notice the tempting smell of the bird at her side and let out a loud rumble. She glanced over at Peter but he pretended not to have noticed. Curious, she picked at the skin, the stubbly surface burnt black by the flames and smoke. Finding a split, she peeled it back to reveal the juicy flesh below. Pulling off a strip she popped it in her mouth and chewed. The flavour was stronger than chicken but more tender. She tore off another strip and another until she had consumed half the bird without realising. Guilty for having succumbed so easily to her hunger, Wendy glanced at Peter only to see him watching her, a quick grin flashing out before she turned away again, her chin lifting.

"Good aren't they?"

"I suppose....do you have a name for them?"

"Nope....should I have?"

"Well this is your island....so I'd have thought you'd have a name for the animals and birds that live here."

Peter shrugged, tearing off another strip and stuffing it in his mouth, ignoring Wendy's grimace of disgust at his table manners.

After chewing for a few seconds he swallowed his mouthful and fixed her with a questioning look.

"You keep calling this place Neverland. Why do you call it that?"

"I guess because its an island were you never have to grow up and worry about adult things ever again. The Never Never land."

"Hmmmm."

He lapsed into silence again and they ate in peace for a few more minutes. Tearing off a small drumstick he waved it in the air and opened his mouth again.

"You also mentioned Indians.....where do they come into this story?"

"It's not a story Peter....they live here....somewhere...they have a camp near the mermaid lagoon...we went there after the battle at the Black Castle."

"There's a castle here?" Peter's expressive brows rose incredulously.

"Haven't you come across one in your travels?"

"Nope....no Black Castle. I think I'd remember if I had."

"Maybe you haven't explored all the island yet." Wendy suggested.

"I've explored a fair bit....there's been nothing much else to do on my own except explore."

"Oh."

They ate some more until Peter sat back patting his grease spotted stomach and groaned, a belch rending the air as he flopped back on the grass. "I'm stuffed."

"Now who's the pig.." Wendy muttered, nibbling at her drumstick, careful to lean forward so no grease dropped on her skirts. Peter ignored her remark and lay with his eyes closed, replete and sleepy.

Having eaten her fill she tossed the bones away and wrapped what was left in the leaf, batting away a nosy fly. Peter still lay on the grass, the fire left unattended to burn out.

Her hunger well and truly satisfied, Wendy eased herself on her side, careful of her still tender feet, and lay down. The sun was now at its zenith and the sound of the stream, overlaid with the drone of some bees nearby sent her into a doze.

Something was tickling her nose and she batted it away only for it to return and tickle her again. Thoroughly awake she blinked her eyes to find Peter sitting beside her with a long blade of grass that he bobbed in front of her face.

"Wake up sleepy head...there's still several hours of daylight and I want to keep moving."

"Yes...of course....keep moving..." Wendy yawned, lifting her arms to stretch above her head. Peter was rummaging in the pack, lifting out the roll of rabbit and fox fur as well as the jar of salve.

"I'll need some more material from you petticoat." Said Peter, approaching with his knife, the blade shining in the sunlight and almost blinding her.

"What are you going to do with it?" She asked, unwilling to surrender too many more of her undergarments to be torn up.

"Bind your feet so you can walk of course."

If she felt a twinge of disappointment that he wasn't proposing to carry her in his arms again, Wendy firmly squashed it, lifting her skirt, after telling Peter to look away, and pulling down one of her petticoats over her hips and down her legs. Handing it over she watched as he quickly cut it into strips before carrying them to the stream to soak them in the cold water. That done he returned and directed her to sit with her legs out. Kneeling down, he drew her feet up so that they rested on his thighs, then he smeared them liberally with the salve, Wendy squirming when he poked his finger between her toes.

"That tickles...."

Ignoring his patients squirming, Peter wrapped her feet in the cold bandages before finally wrapping them in the rabbit skins, the fur inwards to act as a cushion. With the skins secured he then cut up the wolf hide with its thicker fur and skin and wrapped that around until it appeared that Wendy's feet had swelled unbelievably and she was wearing very strange ankle boots.

"That should do it." Peter rose to his feet and held out his hand to Wendy to help her up. Dreading the pain, Wendy grimaced but took a hold of his hand, his fingers curling strongly around her own. Bracing himself he slowly eased her upright, his free arm snaking around her waist to take her weight as she gingerly tested her new footwear. To her surprise and his cocky grin, her feet felt very comfortable with barely a twinge of discomfort to remind her of the bruises and cuts.

"Goat skin would be better, but that'll have to wait until we get home."

"Thank you Peter....they hardly hurt at all."

"We'll see."

Letting her go, Peter bustled about, collecting the remains of their meal for later and re-packing the ointment and what was left of her petticoat. Lastly he refilled the goat skin bladder and handed it to Wendy to carry. Using his knife he hacked off a sapling from a nearby stand, trimming it to length and removing all the leaves and branches to produce a stout walking stick.

"Here...this should help."

Moved by his consideration Wendy impulsively leant forward as he handed her the stick and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Shocked at her own forwardness, she blushed furiously and lowered her eyes to the ground. Peter seemed frozen in place, his hand slowly coming up to touch his cheek where her lips had grazed him.

"What was that for?"

"I just thought....I'd.....thank you." She stammered, her face still crimson.

Peter grinned hugely, his fingers still pressed to his cheek as he swaggered away, leaving Wendy to figure out how to walk again with her new aid. Whistling jauntily, if a little tunelessly, Peter led the way out of the small glade, Wendy walking slowly and carefully after him. Soon she was able to move faster as she gained confidence that her highly irregular boots were proving their worth and cushioning her feet to perfection.

Finding that she no longer had to concentrate quite so fiercely on just keeping her feet moving, Wendy was able to look at the scenery as they traversed Neverlands vast tract of forest.

"Peter?"

A grunt signaled he'd heard her.

"Have you seen no evidence of anyone on this island?"

"I said I hadn't seen anyone...not that I'd not seen proof that people have lived here."

"You really are very obtuse sometimes...what do you mean?"

She heard him give a gusty sigh.

"I came across a big open space one time, it was near a river. There was nothing there except what looked like old fire pits and numerous small holes in the ground, set out in circles."

"That could have been the Indian village...it was set in a big open space and the holes could have been where the tepee's had stood."

"Then where are they now?"

Wendy chewed her lip as she pondered what could have happened to force the Indian's to move. "I don't know."

They carried on, the path they were following broadening out so that Peter dropped back and was able to walk beside her, slowing his pace to hers.

"It's all very odd...." Wendy mused, carefully stepping over a tangle of tree roots.

"What is?"

"Well......everything. I mean, what could have happened to destroy the Jolly Roger?....Why have the Indian's moved their camp?....Why are you no longer able to understand the fairies..."

A loud snort interrupted her musings.

"I told you, you've got windmills in your head, there are no such things as...." Peter's voice halted when Wendy's hand clamped itself over his lips, her blue eyes boring into his, her brows drawn down in a fierce scowl.

"Don't you dare say that.....don't ever!"

Despite knowing that he could easily push her away, Peter stood there with Wendy's warm hand pressed against his lips, her eyes willing him to comply.

Shrugging he nodded, his eyes closing in mock defeat before opening again with a wicked twinkle lurking in their depths. Wendy was so bemused by his lightning change of mood that it was a second before she registered that his tongue was painting tiny circles against the palm of her hand. Snatching it away she stared open mouthed at him as he licked his lips and grinned unashamedly.

"What on earth do you think you are doing?" Wendy demanded, staring at her open hand.

"Seeing what you taste like, of course."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Wendy turned her back and continued on down the dirt path, her stick thumping the ground. Peter watched her stalk off, noting that she didn't wipe her hand on her skirt but curled her fingers closed in a fist. Whistling again, he jogged a few steps to catch up.

"Wanna see something?" He asked, turning so that he could face her, walking backwards with a blithe disregard for his footing.

"No thank you."

"Aw come on Wendy...its a nice something...you'll like it."

Relenting in the face of his beguiling look, Wendy performed a credible facsimile of his own shrug. "Oh, if you like.....what is it?"

"Nope...won't tell you...it's a surprise."

Turning forward, Peter smiled smugly and carried on walking.

Wendy tried to ignore that smile but found her curiosity piqued.

"Come on Peter.....is it a waterfall?"

"Nope."

"Um....is it something I can eat?"

Peter laughed. "Always thinking of your stomach."

"I do not." Wendy retorted indignantly.

"You'll just have to wait and see." Peter told her mysteriously.

They walked for another half hour before Peter led them off the main path and along a little used track, the leaf litter underfoot muffling their footsteps. Plunged into the deep shade, Wendy couldn't suppress a shiver and glanced longingly over her shoulder to the brighter path they'd left behind.

"It's not far.." Peter called out before pushing aside a curtain of creepers to reveal his secret.

Wendy stopped dead in her tracks and gasped. In front of her rose a tall stone monolith, as high as an Indian tepee, its surface carved with intricate pattern around the base but the top half depicting a dour face that frowned down on the young people staring up at it.

"Gracious..." Wendy breathed, peering upwards.

"Something, isn't it?"

"I've...never seen anything like this."

"I found it by accident when I was hunting this way. There's another one in almost a direct line that way." He pointed but Wendy couldn't see anything through the dense bush.

"Does it look like this one?"

"It has a bird face instead." Peter told her, standing aside to let her peer more closely at the markings around the bottom half.

The carvings were crude and weathered, streaks of old water stains marring the stone and lichen filling in some of the detail. Almost sticking her nose on the stone Wendy scrunched up her eyes when a particular carving caught her attention. Excited she leant back and turned to wave Peter over.

"Look here Peter....this pattern...does this look a little like a ship to you?"

Peter bent down at inspected the carving that Wendy was pointing to.

"I guess it might look a little like a boat of some sort."

Wendy was looking closely at the other carvings, calling out what she thought they were, her fingers dancing over the stone.

"And look here...that could be a tepee, and that would be....a top hat?"

"Why would anyone carve a top hat on a statue?" Peter asked, puzzled at Wendy's slightly stunned expression.

"My brother John wore a top hat he stole from Father's bank manager on the night we flew here to Neverland...he lost it....somewhere."

Peter made a rude sound. "There you go again....nobody can fly...only birds fly and if you ask me that just looks like.....a-a...thing, not a hat."

Wendy kept a tight rein on her temper and ignored his dismissive remarks. Tracing the line of the carving further around she reached an area that appeared to be more recently cut into the rock. Unable to quite believe her eyes, she brushed at the cobwebs and leaves that slightly obscured the carving.

"Peter?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Come and look at this......and then tell me I'm dreaming."

Grimacing, Peter edged his way around the statue and stood by Wendy's side, her shaking fingers pointing to the recently carved pictograms.

This time it was Peter who looked stunned as his eyes traced the outline of two figures standing side by side, one male, one female. They were unmistakably meant to represent Peter and Wendy, even down to the pack on Peter's back with his ragged trousers and Wendy's shortened skirts and long hair.

Suddenly wary, Peter looked up and around the small clearing that the statue stood in. Seeing nothing but trees and bushes he grasped Wendy's upper arm and started to tug her away from the statue.

"We need to get going.....now."

"But Peter....those carvings...were they there the last time you were through here?"

Ignoring her token resistance, Peter tugged harder, hustling Wendy away from the statue, his eyes darting about to catch any movement among the greenery.

"I don't remember....we have to get moving...come on."

Too surprised to really protest, Wendy allowed him to bustle her along the short track and out into the wider path, her face turning up to welcome the warmth of the sun after the dark dankness of the jungle glade.

"Can you walk?" Peter demanded, shaking her slightly to get her attention.

"Y-y-es...but what's the matter?"

"Nothing....I just want to get closer to home before we camp for the night....that's all."

"But Peter...don't you think its odd that the statue has a picture of us on it? Aren't you curious?"

"Not enough to stick around here....can't you walk any faster?"

"I'm walking as fast as I can.....Peter!"

Impatiently, Peter knocked the walking stick from her hand and swept her up into his arms making her squeal and clutch his neck. As if she weighed nothing at all, he strode out and almost jogged down the track, the trees swallowing up the path behind them. Finding herself rudely jostled and feeling a little queasy, Wendy thumped Peter on the back when he refused to listen to her calls for him to slow down.

"Peter stop this.....please...."

Abruptly Peter halted and almost dropped her on her feet, Wendy swaying before righting herself, her feet stinging from the sudden contact with the ground.

They were standing on the path looking down into a valley, the winding track having followed a ridge for the last part before plunging down a steep slope towards the valley floor below. Peter stood and stared at the view, his arm around Wendy's waist to steady her as he raised his other hand to shade his eyes. Wendy could feel how tense he was and tried squinting into the distance to see what he was looking at.

"What is it Peter?"

As if only just remembering that she was there, Peter's head swung around and he fixed her with an enigmatic look before raising his arm and pointing out across the valley. Wendy followed the direction of his finger and stared, her eyes widening as she saw what had drawn his attention.

Spiraling up from the valley floor was a column of grey smoke, the vapor rising straight up out of the sparse canopy of trees until it was teased away by the wind above the slopes either side of the deep rift.

"Oh Peter....what does it mean?"

"It means that we're not the only ones on this island after all."

"What are we going to do?"

"We are going to negotiate this path and get to the valley floor, then we are going to make camp." Peter stated, laying heavy emphasis on the 'we'. Hitching the pack higher on his back he turned to pick her up again but Wendy laid a hand on his chest to forestall him.

"You can't possibly imagine I'm going to let you carry me all the way down there....my feet are fine..I'll walk."

After a brief pause, Peter shrugged and slipped his arm from around her waist but just as quickly his hand enfolded hers and gripped it tightly.

"Then follow me and look out for tree roots."

Feeling both nervous and excited, Wendy nodded her head and allowed Peter to guide them both down the steeply sloping track towards the valley below.

The sun was dipping towards the horizon by the time they reached the lightly forested floor of the valley, the shadow cast by the surrounding hills making it darker than normal. Wendy was exhausted, her feet, despite Peter's best efforts, were in agony. Finding a huge fallen tree to act as a windbreak and shelter, Peter helped Wendy to sit down, her bottom lip almost raw from biting it to suppress the cries of pain.

Pulling out the feather filled sack from his pack, Peter loosened the string and pummelled into a pillow shape.

"Here, lay down and rest, I'll be gone just a short time."

Too tired to argue, Wendy did as he bid, her eyes closing as her head sank into the welcome softness.

Having seen her settled, Peter quickly equipped himself for hunting, leaving the pack with Wendy before setting off through the long grass. Luck was with him and he returned before the shadow of the hills had completely crossed the valley floor. Gathering rocks and kindling, he efficiently gutted and skinned the two rabbits before skewing them and putting them aside until the fire was lit.

Wendy awoke a couple of hours later to the welcome flush of warmth bathing her skin as well as the rich aroma of roasting meat. Above her head stars twinkled in the clear sky, sparks from the fire competing with them as they floated up in the smoke. Peter sat near where she lay, his attention intent on the two small bodies which he turned frequently, their skins blackened and crispy. Blinking to clear her eyes of sleep, Wendy struggled to sit up, surprised not to feel any pain from her poor feet.

"I redressed them while you slept." Peter explained as if he'd read her mind. Wendy quickly looked at her feet and noted that the dust had been knocked from the furs and that the bandages were snug around her ankles.

"Thank you, they feel...fine."

"They're looking alot better than this morning." Peter informed her, keeping his attention on the rabbits and avoiding her eyes. He could feel a blush starting to prickle his skin, his memory supplying the image of long, slender legs and delicate toes, the ankles trim enough to be surrounded by his fingers completely.

Wendy fussed with her skirts, her own face burning from the thought of Peter handling her feet and legs while she slept, wondering at her exhaustion to have managed to remain unaware while he tended her hurts.

The night air was not chilly but still Wendy felt goosebumps break out on her arms when she thought about the smoke they'd seen from the ridge.

"Who do you think they are Peter?"

Knowing quite well who she referred to, Peter only shrugged, turning the skewers again.

They sat in silence watching the flames, Peter feeding the fire from a pile of twigs off to the side.

"Will they see our fire?"

"Nope...too far away.....and it's dark..."

"Oh.."

Rubbing her arms, Wendy looked up at the smoke from their campsite drifting upwards and disappearing into the darkness. The air was redolent with the spicy scent of the wood smoke, the cooking meat adding to mix, her stomach rumbling on cue as Peter lifted the first of the rabbit's away from the flames.

Setting it down between them, Peter cut it up with his knife and offered a portion to Wendy who took it gratefully. They ate in silence, both caught up in their own thoughts.

Peter was turning over the implications of the carving on the statue they'd stopped to see. On his last trip through the area he was sure that the figures that Wendy interpreted as themselves had not been on the idol, his own observations not noticing the similarity of the carvings to the objects Wendy pointed out as ships and Indian dwellings. He'd just taken them for old native stone carvings that had been left by the islands previous inhabitants, but it now appeared that those inhabitants were still around somewhere. Peter hadn't been entirely truthful to Wendy regarding other people being on the island. It was true that the Indian encampment was abandoned, but he'd seen other indications that people were still living in Neverland. Fireplaces where the ashes were barely cold, midden's with evidence of recent human occupation from the level of waste accumulated in them, all pointed to either several small groups of people roaming, like him, around the island in search of food or maybe searching for someone or something. That it might be him they were searching for had crossed his mind but as he thought himself quite insignificant, he'd shrugged the idea off. Now with Wendy's arrival his own importance to the island, in her eyes at least, was something he couldn't ignore. His loss of memory of the time before he found himself washed up on that beach had never really bothered him before now. The skills he had to hunt and provide for himself had never struck him as unusual or significant, but now he reflected that it seemed to point to the fact that he'd been looking after himself on the island far longer than the time allowed since he'd awoken, alone and naked on the sandy shore. Despite deriding Wendy's explanations about the mermaids and fairies, what she'd said made a lot of sense to him now. He was quite sure that the heads he'd seen bobbing in the bay had not been seals or any form of animal, but had been women, their long hair floating in the clear water like seaweed, their bodies slicing through the waves with a flick of their silvery tails. As soon as the creatures had noticed his presence they'd disappeared with a splash and never returned to that bay despite Peter spending long hours waiting to see if they would.

Having Wendy confirm his own thoughts made him curious as to what or who he was in his previous life. Where before he'd been content to let such ideas sink below the tedium of keeping himself alive and fed, now he had a reason to discover more about his island home, and what his place was in it. If Wendy was to be believed he'd been a sword-wielding, pirate-fighting, leaf-clad flying boy with a fairy for a best friend. Chuckling inwardly, Peter had to admit that it was hard to believe, but Wendy also didn't strike him as a girl that would lie so blatantly or so believably about such things. She certainly believed what she said and was genuinely hurt when he'd laughed at her, her eyes darkening with pain before her lashes swept down to hide them. If he did believe her, then he also had to accept that something drastic had happened to change not only his life but his appearance as well. It was something he'd never even thought about, the memory loss being blamed for everything, his current appearance taken as the norm. Now it seemed that he had not looked this way six months prior, nor been this old. It was all very perplexing and more bother than he really needed right now. Glancing over at his companion he pushed all his troublesome questions to one side and just gazed at the firelight glinting on her hair and the shadows chasing themselves over her expressive features. Whatever they had been to each other in that previous life, he knew that she was starting to mean a whole lot more to him now.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy awoke to the now familiar warmth of Peter's body curled up against her back. Although he started off sleeping some distance away from her, he always ended up spooned against her, his arm looped over her waist, his breath warming her shoulder or neck. Wondering what had caused her to wake, she lay with her eyes half open, the embers of the fire glowing brightly, the sky still dark. A voice jerked her out of her doze and she listened, her heart pounding. It was Peter, his words indistinct as he dreamed, his limbs twitching as he fought whatever inhabited his unconscious thoughts. He quietened briefly before he shouted, startling her.

"NO....I have to save her....NO.....you bastard....leave her alone....Wendy....." His voice tailed off into a mumble, his arm clutching convulsively around her middle as he shifted restlessly. Alarmed, Wendy tried to turn but his voice stilled her.

"To the death, James Hook....it's him or me this time.....to the death..."

Finding herself squeezed painfully, Wendy tried to prise Peter's arm away, the muscles flexing like steel bands under her fingers as she tried to lever it from around her waist. Her attempts only caused the arm to tighten and Wendy gasped as her ribs protested.

"Peter.....please....you're crushing me!"

Her strangled cry seemed to snap Peter out of his dream, his body going rigid before he shot upright, his eyes wide and dark as he stared down at her.

"Wha....what is it? What's the matter?"

"You were dreaming....and you're arm...." She indicated his limb still clamped tightly about her. Peter let her go immediately and scooted back to put some distance between them.

"Sorry...I'm...sorry." Peter mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair leaving it in a wild disarray before drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

Wendy levered herself upright, massaging her sore middle as she sat up, her eyes flicking worriedly over Peter.

"What were you dreaming about Peter?....You were talking.."

Peter interrupted her harshly. "What did I say?"

"It was a little confused...you seemed to be fighting someone, and you said my name as well as James Hook."

Briefly Peter turned his head away, staring out into the darkness. When he turned to face her he looked haggard.

"There was a battle....I was fighting...I had to get somewhere and stop something...I don't remember....it's all muddled."

Wendy didn't pursue it, not sure that she wanted to know the outcome of what he was dreaming if his expression was anything to go by. They sat staring at the dying fire until Wendy felt her eyes start to slide shut and her shoulders droop. Seeing her shift, Peter lifted his head and spoke.

"Go back to sleep....I'll keep watch. It'll be dawn soon."

"You need to sleep too, Peter."

"In a bit."

Wendy hesitated but his expression halted any words of comfort before they could be uttered.

"Goodnight then."

Laying back down, Wendy turned her back and tried to compose herself to sleep again. She shifted and realised she missed the comfort of his heat against her back, of his arm a welcome weight around her waist. Berating herself for being so mawkish, she closed her eyes.

Sunlight woke her the next time, the morning well advanced when she rose to find herself alone, the fire a dark smudge of ash and blackened grass at her feet. Not unduly alarmed, she climbed to her feet, glad that they did nothing more than ache, and found herself a bush to give her some privacy. Feeling more comfortable she returned to the camp and looked about. The pack was gone but the water bladder had been left, so after taking a long drink she wetted a corner of her skirt and wiped her face and hands, feeling the need to refresh herself for the new day.

After performing her limited ablutions she settled herself to wait for Peter's return. Birds were singing high up in the branches of the trees, the sound sweet in the cool of the morning. Using the pillow as a cushion, she settled herself with her back against the tree trunk to give her a clear view in front of her. She had tried to see if she could see Peter's tracks when she'd gone to relieve herself, but the dirt around the campsite was too disturbed for her to make out anything. As the sun continued to rise she watched a butterfly float above the tall grass stems, its wings painted a hectic shade of purple. Other creatures ventured out as she remained still, a lizard darting across the cleared space, its feet kicking up a spurt of dust as it scuttled back into the grass. A bee droned past in a weaving flight, dipping down to investigate Wendy before buzzing past to continue its journey. As time passed Wendy felt a trickle of fear start to wend its way down her nerves, the sun starting to feel hot on the top of her head so that she shifted to put herself in the shade before her skin started to burn and freckle. The thought of a hat put her in mind of her chip-straw bonnet she'd lost two days before. Eyeing the tall stems of grass she tried to recall the lesson she'd received at her old school the day they'd woven baskets from lengths of cane. Thinking that she might be able to fashion something to protect her fair skin, Wendy got up and gathered an armful of grass stems, depositing the bundle on the ground before sitting down again. She then spent the next hour happily working out a way to weave the stems together to form a rounded flat mat which she planned to tie on her head with the platted grass leaves.

When she had finished she lifted up the crudely fashioned mat and eyed it critically. A fashionable bonnet it was not, but it would act as an excellent sun hat and keep the worst of the light from her face if only she could plat the leaves so that they wouldn't break at the first hint of tension. Squinting up at the sun she saw it had almost reached midday and there was still no sign of Peter. Feeling more than a little alarmed she rose to her feet and collected together her meager supplies. Over her one shoulder she slung the goat-skin, the water inside sloshing noisily. Over the other she hung the drawstring bag with the feathers inside. Lastly she tried to secure the grass-stalk hat to her head with the leaf ribbon, only partially successful when half the leaves split, but it held, albeit loosely.

The ashes of the fire were now quite cold so she scooped up handfuls of dirt and covered it, as she'd seen Peter do that last two mornings. Dusting off her hands, she tried to look as far as possible over the heads of the nodding grass. Seeing nothing to give her any indication of which direction Peter took, she tried to remember the direction they'd seen the other fire when up on the ridge. Thinking that she had the right direction, Wendy set out after fashioning sticks in the shape of an arrow to indicate the direction she was taking, her legs pushing easily through the long grass, burrs and sticky seeds sticking to her skirts and her unconventional boots.

Firmly tamping down the welling fear that Peter had, in fact, abandoned her, Wendy made a concerted effort not to become introverted but to pay attention to her surroundings for any clues to Peter's whereabouts, or to indicate who else could be in the valley.

The sun was now overhead and she felt trickles of perspiration snaking down her back and neck, her hair sticking to her skin, her dress quite damp under the arms. Pausing she uncorked the goat-skin and took a drink. All around her stretched the waving sea of grass, dotted here and there with frequently less trees, their welcome shade a temporary respite before she pressed on.

As the afternoon wore on her steps became slower, her head starting to ache with the heat, the goat-skin as heavy as a sack of sand on her shoulders. The only bright spot was the grass hat she'd made which proved an excellent sun hat, screening her eyes from the fierce glare and protecting her head from the scorching sun. Lifting her hand to shade her eyes further she squinted up at the hills that seemed to close in on her, the heat haze making them waver. Finally, unable to put another step forward, she sank down in the shade of a scrubby bush and took another drink from the goat-skin. Pulling the feather bag around and thumping it into shape she rested her head, intending only to close her eyes for a minute which, as fate would have it, lasted more than three hours.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

While Wendy trekked her way across the flat grasslands, Peter was cursing his luck as he hung upside down, his ankles caught in a noose that had hoisted him high above the ground, his knife falling out of its scabbard to land beyond his reach among the leaf litter below.

Twisting, he'd tried to reach the noose with the intention of freeing himself but each attempt only tightened the rope, cutting off the circulation to his feet until he had no feeling left in them. Feeling dizzy, Peter tried to swing himself towards the nearest tree with the thought of grabbing a branch and hoisting himself upright at least, but all his attempts proved useless, the motion only making him feel sick and disorientated.

His pack had remained on his back but was slipping with every movement until it too fell and joined his knife on the ground below, much to his annoyance and shouted curses. He had left the camp with every intention of returning before Wendy awoke, but that plan was now beyond redemption, in fact his situation could quickly become perilous if he didn't figure out a way to get the rope to release him or someone came along to free him. As the sun crept across the sky his hopes of rescue started to fade with his vision as his body started to rebel against its unnatural position, his arms now as useless as his legs to aid in his escape. At some point he passed out because when he next opened his eyes the sun was well past its zenith and the shadows starting to stretch longer on the ground below him. With no hope that Wendy would be able to find him even if she had been searching for him all day, his fate was now in the hands of whoever had set the trap, Peter hoping that whoever had lit the fire was also the hunter and would be along soon to check his traps for prey.

He must have passed out again because the next time he became aware of his surroundings he was flat on his back staring up at the sky, the few clouds painted the glorious colours of sunset. With the return of his senses came the realisation that he was free of the noose, his arms and legs all unbroken, his pack and knife not far from his body. Sitting up groggily he stared around the clearing noting that the rope lay like a discarded snake near his feet, marks like burns to show where they had tightened about his ankles, his head still muzzy after a rush of blood to his brain. Just thankful to be free, Peter slowly rose to his feet, swaying until he regained his balance and his ears stopped ringing. Of his captor there was no sign, except for the end of the severed rope, the fibres clean cut indicating that whoever had freed him had used a blade to sever the line. Coiling up the length of rope he stuffed it into his pack before once more hoisting it onto his shoulder and sheathing his knife.

"Thank you." Peter called out to the silent trees, the feeling that someone was watching him prickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

Taking cautious steps until he was sure his raw ankles would support him, Peter backed out of the glade, turning his head to catch any sign of movement from his rescuer. As he put distance between him and the trees he couldn't stop the feeling that he was being watched from dogging his footsteps.

As stars started to appear in the sky above him his thoughts turned to Wendy and what she would have done when it became apparent he wasn't returning. He had no difficulty in supposing that she might think he had abandoned her and set out on her own, which was confirmed when he found the deserted campsite from the night before. Kicking at the ashes he searched the ground in the failing light and found her footprints plus her arrow as well as a swathe of trampled grass where she had pushed her way through. It proved easy to follow her passage as the grass had not recovered enough even from having so slight a figure move through it and Peter felt an urgency compel his limbs to move faster despite the failing light. He only stopped when it was too dark to see more than his hand in front of his face, his weary body sinking into the long grass, his chest heaving as he drew breath. Somewhere ahead of him was Wendy, alone in the dark with no fire or food and no idea where he'd been all day. Left with only his thoughts for company Peter tried to figure out who could have set the trap in the trees, what they were hoping to capture and how they came to be there in the first place. He assumed that the smoke he'd seen further down the valley had belonged to whoever had released him, but even there he couldn't be sure. Maybe the trapper and the rescuer were two different people, in which case why had he never come across any evidence of their existence before now? It was as if he'd noticed nothing about the island until Wendy had appeared on that beach, as if his eyes and ears had been deaf to anything and everything until her arrival. Putting down his inability to sort it all out to his ordeal, Peter curled up among the whispering grasses and waited for the moon to rise.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy opened her eyes to darkness. Tucked under the bush, she lay and watched the grasses around her sway and dip as a rising wind swept over the valley floor, the sky above dotted with racing clouds that briefly obscured the moon which sat fat and yellow and low in the sky. Pushing herself upright she rubbed her arms to restore circulation and instill some warmth into her limbs, the formally warm breeze now starting to bite through her thin dress.

With a nameless dread forming in her stomach, Wendy clambered to her feet and stared around her small shelter at the expanse of grass that seemed to go on forever in every direction, the slopes of the valley appearing dark and shadowed, almost menacing in their inscrutability. Shivering in earnest, she turned full circle, her hair whipped into her face until she turned again and the wind carried the strands out of her eyes and beyond her shoulders like a banner.

"Oh Peter....where are you?" She whispered, hugging her arms about herself, her ears straining for any sound, her eyes trying to pierce the half light of the moon on the constantly moving grass around her.

The clouds scudding past suddenly blocked out the light of the moon and Wendy found herself plunged into darkness, the sound of the wind taking on a sinister air as she stood irresolute, her eyes blind to all but the stars above.

Suddenly consumed with fear of the unknown Wendy tilted back her head and filled her lungs with air.

"PETER!" It seemed as if the wind whipped the word from her lips before she had a chance to form it, her eyes tearing up as she waited for a reply she dreaded was never coming. As she strained to hear, a sound made her whip her head around. Confused by the wind and the whispering of the grass she twisted and turned to catch the sound again. Hearing nothing she bit her lip hard to stop the tears from falling, her knuckles pressed to her eyes as her shoulders shook on silent sobs.

A touch on her shoulder wrenched a scream from her lips before strong arms pulled her around and enfolded her against a firm chest, the wind tangling her hair and blinding her as she flung her arms around him, holding on for dear life.

"I-I-I thought you'd left me...."

Shaking almost as much as her, Peter was fighting to get his breath back and speak, his lungs laboring after his sprint across the short distance between them. Since the moon had risen Peter had been following the path left by her, cursing when the moon went behind a cloud and running when it appeared, sure that he was close to finding her. Then he'd stopped short when he heard his name called, the sound, so full of fear and longing, had fired his blood and sent his feet flying over the ground, the dark shape of the bush clear in the moonlight. Breathless he arrived just as the moon once more disappeared, his last vision of Wendy standing with her back to him. He'd reached out to where he'd last seen her and touched her arm, only to have her jump out of her skin and scream. Anxious to touch her and confirm that she was in fact real, he'd pulled her against his body, his hands running up and down her back and sides, her hair whipping into his face, the strands entangling them as they held on to each other. He could feel her shaking against him, her face pressed against his neck, her fingers kneading his back as if reassuring herself he was real.

Relaxing his grip he tried to smooth her hair away from her face but the wind frustrated him.

"I'm here.....I wouldn't leave you....Wendy look at me."

Running his hands over her head, he stroked them down to cup her face, pulling her away slightly so that he could tilt her face up to look at him. Her hair was like a living thing, snaking and twisting around them in a cloud as the wind continued to rise, the cold causing both of them to shiver.

"We have to get out of this wind," Peter almost shouted to be heard above the sound of the grass, Wendy nodding her understanding as he pulled her into his side before bending down to snag the goat-skin and the feather bag. Blinded by her hair and unwilling to let go of him, she allowed him to lead her away from the bush and towards the dark hills that loomed over the valley. Within what seemed to be a very short time they reached a rocky scree where huge boulders seemed tossed like marbles along the bottom of the slope. Peter was looking for something, his head turning back and forth, cursing under his breath when the moon disappeared for a moment, then suddenly he shouted and pointed to a dark opening almost hidden behind a huge boulder.

"Not much further Wendy...hold tight to me."

Together they scrambled over the loose shale and towards the hulking boulder. As they ducked behind it, it was as if someone had shut a door, the rock blocking the wind just as effectively. Peter continued on until they had entered a little way into the caves mouth, the floor covered in a find sand that felt cool and silky between their toes. Pushing her disordered hair off her face, Wendy tried not to shiver, her relief at having Peter beside her almost overwhelming her fragile control. Peter was shucking the pack and trying to check out the cave.

"Look, there's nothing here I can use to start a fire, I need to go outside again..."

"No Peter...."

"I won't be long....just far enough to gather some fuel and grass for kindling....you can watch from the cave mouth if you need to...its light enough out there for you to see."

Not waiting for a reply, Peter took off down the slope, apparently with the eyesight of a cat as he leap over the dark shapes of small rocks in his quest to get out and back in record time. Wendy stood just inside the cave, her eyes following his movements, her heart leaping into her throat when the moon went behind a cloud and she lost him. Seconds later light flooded the valley and she breathed again when she saw him already returning, his arms full of branches and grass.

Puffing, he dumped it all inside the cave and went to rummage in the pack. Another trip outside and they gathered enough rocks to form a base onto which he built the fire. At last he struck the flint and a flame flared into life, growing quickly into a bright fire that banished the shadows and gave them their first real look at their new shelter. The cave was more of a deep overhang, the roof sloping quickly to the floor with no access further into the hill. A few small rocks were scattered against the wall but for the most part the floor was free of animal droppings or any permanent residents. The huge boulder beyond the cave mouth effectively blocked the wind and the interior of the cave quickly warmed up with the small fire. With the creation of light and heat, Peter and Wendy started to relax from the grip of fear that had pervaded their thoughts all day.

"We have enough water for tonight, and there's still the left-overs from those rabbits last night....we should be fine tomorrow, this wind will have blown itself out by then."

Touched that he'd gone to so much trouble just to reassure her, Wendy opened her mouth to ask where he'd been when she saw his legs and gasped anew.

"Peter..what happened to your ankles?"

Peter looked down at himself in surprise, the rope burns quite forgotten in the adrenalin rush of finding Wendy and everything afterwards.

"Er....I was caught in a noose trap." He told her matter of factly, brushing off the livid marks as if they were nothing.

"A trap? Set by who?"

He shrugged. "Don't know....whoever it was, they freed me and I came after you."

Wendy blinked, sure that a wealth of detail had been left out of that brief summation of his day. Too happy to be sitting beside him to worry about pushing him for more information, Wendy wrapped her arms about her knees and gazed at the flames. As she stared the full weight of the days rollercoaster ride of emotions crashed in on her and she started to cry, big fat tears rolling down her face to drip off her chin welling up from some limitless source that she was unable to stop.

Peter saw the tracks of wetness and felt helpless. For a second he remained undecided, then he scooted closer and gathered her up, depositing her on his lap and pulling her head onto his shoulder where she sobbed inconsolably for several minutes.

"I-I'm sorry...it's all been a bit much today..." Wendy hiccuped, wiping ineffectually at the continuing stream of tears. Peter couldn't help a small smile from curving his mouth at her gross understatement of events. Reaching into the pack beside him, he pulled out a length of what remained of her petticoat and pressed it into her hands. Gratefully she mopped her eyes and wiped her face, finishing off with a loud blow of her nose which had Peter grinning from ear to ear.

"Feeling better now?"

"Much....I'm sorry to be such a wet ninny, I don't usually cry so much."

"That's okay....girls tend to do that a lot, or so I've heard."

Wendy stiffened in his arms, her eyes indignant as they clashed with his.

"Well, if that's what you think....."

"It's only what I've heard." Peter teased her, glad to see some spirit returning, her tears drying up as she blew her nose again, hard.

"I'll have you know I hardly ever cry......it's not considered very ladylike to be a watering pot all the time."

"Besides the fact it leaves your nose all pink and swollen." Peter told her quite seriously but with a twinkle in his eye.

"Quite." Wendy agreed, a smile tilting her lips as Peter failed to contain his and granted her a full blown grin that almost lit up the cave.

"Ready for something to eat?" He asked when her stomach intruded on the quiet moment.

"Yes please.....I'm sorry there's not much to drink...I got terribly thirsty, it's been so hot today."

"We'll make do....here, tuck in."

Passing her the remains of one of the rabbits, Peter unwrapped his own bundle and started to pick the flesh from the small bones, savoring every morsel as if it was his last. Wendy followed his example and also took her time over her scant meal, feeling washed out but greatly relieved as well.

She had removed herself from him lap but not moved far from his side, both of them unwilling to move beyond touching distance. Outside the cave the wind continued to lash the valley, the sky filling with clouds as the front swept over the island, blotting out the moon and bringing the smell of rain to the forests and jungles. Inside the fire burned brightly, banishing the shadows and warming the air as it's two temporary residents finished their meager meal and settled down for the night.

Wendy had unwrapped her feet and Peter smoothed the last of the salve into her toes and soles making her giggle as it tickled the sensitive skin, her nose wrinkling at the strong peppermint smell.

"Well that's the last until we get to my home."

Wendy wriggled her toes, warming them near the embers. "How much further is it Peter?"

"Not far at all....if this storm passes over during the night we should be home before midday, it's just beyond the end of this valley."

"So close....." Wendy sighed, her shoulders drooping tiredly.

Peter fed another piece of their small supply of wood onto the fire, the embers glowing brightly just as a small flurry of rain soaked the dust outside the overhang, the air temperature dropping as the heavens opened and rain poured down forming a curtain beyond the reach of the firelight. Peter quickly gathered their supplies and scooted to the back of the cave, Wendy following suit. Together they huddled against the back wall, the rain drumming on the dirt. Thankfully the cave sloped downwards slightly, towards the opening, so none of the flood entered their shelter. Peter looped his arm around Wendy's shoulder and gave her a squeeze.

"We'll be safe and dry here...don't worry."

Wendy managed a wan smile, cheered that he was trying to lighten their situation, her own thoughts less sanguine.

"I think I'll try and sleep....you..." She swallowed, "you won't....leave me?"

Peter heard the tremor in her voice and gave her arm another squeeze.

"I won't leave....not without letting you know if I have to."

"Thank you."

Peter handed her the feather bag and Wendy smiled her thanks before thumping it into shape and laying her head down. She lay there a long time, staring at the fire and sometimes at the dark maw beyond the fire's reach, the curtain of rain like a fall of diamonds, sparkling as they caught the light of the flames.

Peter kept watch, hearing her breathing even out eventually, her blue eyes closing as she relaxed into an uneasy slumber.

Despite the fact he'd not asked to get caught in the trap, he still felt a twinge of guilt at having put Wendy through the worry and fear of having to make her own way, the girl obviously not equipped to deal with the physical duress despite her plucky spirit. Yawning widely, Peter rose to his feet and padded over to the wide opening of the cave, his arms rising to rest his hands against the low, stone roof as he stared out at the rain still pummelling the valley, the grass almost bent over with the force of the storm. The rock that sheltered the overhand was bearing the brunt of the storm but water from the slope above was starting to cascade over the lip of the cave creating a curtain of water that sluiced down the rocky slope, which in turn created small rivers of mud. Turning away he walked back to the fire and collected all the wood that was left, banking the flames before he settled himself down on the hard floor, insinuating himself between Wendy and the back wall, spooning up behind her, his head supported on the near empty goat-skin, his arm curving protectively around her slender waist.

Soon the hypnotic crackle of the flames and the drum of the rain worked its magic and Peter slipped into a dreamless sleep, Wendy safe and secure in his arms.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: Three - Home and Awakening
Rating: PG13

Please Note: some reference to bodily functions and sexual connotations associated with same. It's all about the barbaric business of growing up. In other words, things are starting to be discovered. ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As Peter had predicted the storm had blown itself out the next morning. With no fire and no food, they made a sparse breakfast and set out as soon as the sun had risen to dry the worst of the wet. The slope past the boulder that had shelter their cave was slippery and muddy, Wendy and Peter making their way down as carefully as possible but even so managing to slip several times, both ending up coated in silt and grit when they reached the bottom. The valley of grasses was devastated with several trees blown over and the tall grass flattened as if by a steam roller. Where before it had been a relatively easy matter to push through the dry stalks and make their own path, with the stalks flattened it made walking almost impossible so Peter decided to follow the edge of the plain and use the cleared space at the bottom of the slopes as their path. Wendy was glad she still had the furs to wrap around her feet to protect her, as the stones and loose gravel were sharp and unstable. Finally, as the sun reached midmorning they reached the end of the scree and the end of the grass. Wendy almost sobbed in relief to see the head of the valley and the start of the forest with its soft pine needles and shady glades.

She felt dirty, smelly and in dire need of a change of linen, her dress beyond any hope of repair and her hair a tangled birds nest. Peter was in a similarly parlous state but Wendy could detect an unmistakable glint of excitement as they plunged into the dappled depths of the forest, his steps lengthening until Wendy almost had to run to keep up.

Within an hour Peter was waving his arm and indicating for Wendy to come forward and see her new home. At first she was confused, looking around the small clearing and seeing nothing, then Peter walked forward and pulled on a vine causing a bark door to rise up revealing the entrance into a hollow tree.

"If that leads to a slide I'd like you to warn me now Peter, I bruised my....er....nether regions quite badly last time." Wendy was in no mood to be jollied.

"No slide....although you can go underground if you wish. I suggest instead you climb the ladder." He pointed upwards and Wendy looked up into the branches of the tree, seeing for the first time that the tangle of leaves and vines was actually a tree house, cleverly disguised and hidden from the casual observer walking below.

Thankful beyond measure that her journey was at an end, Wendy sat down suddenly amongst the fallen leaves, her strength gone. Peter rushed over, worry creasing his forehead as he dropped to his knees.

"What is it? What's the matter?"

"I am exhausted, I'm filthy and....and I w-w-ant to g-o-o home!" Wendy wailed, all her confused feelings welling to the surface at once.

Peter fought hard to keep the smile off his face and out of his voice, aware that Wendy was at her wits end. He rubbed his chin for a moment, noticing how grubby his own hands were, as well as the rest of him.

"Would a warm bath make you feel any better?"

At the mention of the words 'warm' and 'bath' in the same sentence, Wendy's head lifted and she looked imploringly at Peter.

"Please say you're not teasing me?"

This time Peter did smile. "There's a hot spring not far from here...."

"How far?" Wendy interjected, unaware that she was clutching his arm, her nails leaving crescents on his skin.

"Just over there..." Peter pointed to a track that led off to the left.

Wendy instantly scrambled to her feet, uncaring of the leaves sticking to her legs and dress. "I'll need a change of clothes, a towel, a brush....oh and please say you have some soap?"

Peter gently pushed her in the direction of the track. "I'll get together what I have while you make your way there....go on, I won't be far behind."

Shooting him a grateful smile Wendy started to hobble towards the side of the clearing, glancing once over her shoulder before disappearing through the bushes. Well aware that he was not in much better shape, Peter dropped the pack to the ground and entered the tree. Gathering together the items Wendy had asked for he swung down a vine with them tucked under his arm and walked nonchalantly along the track Wendy had taken.

When he entered the small grotto that housed the spring, Wendy was sitting on a rock peeling the wrappings away from her feet, one foot already bare while she worked on the other. She looked up as Peter appeared and flashed him a smile.

"Is this why you built your home here?"

"One of the reasons......it was a lucky find."

Peter dropped the towel, soap and clean clothes on a large rock, well clear of the hot pool where steam was slowly curling up off the surface, a faint smell of sulphur permeating the air.

Wendy had finished removing her bandages and was struggling to undo the buttons down the back of her dress.

"Here, let me.." Peter offered. Wendy froze for a second but the lure of a warm bath overcame her natural shyness and she pulled her hair out of the way to allow Peter access to the back of her dress. Easing the material over her shoulder he brushed his fingers over the wound left by the wolf bite. Wendy flinched at the light contact, her head turning to try and look at the bite.

"It looks clean." Peter reassured her before leaving her to continue to disrobe, her back turned to him. Wendy eased her dress over her hips and let it drop to the ground, leaving her clad in her petticoats and camisole. Next she untied the tapes holding her remaining petticoats around her waist, the fabric rustling to the ground like fallen petals. Left in her bloomers and camisole Wendy crossed her arms over her chest and turned towards the pool. Peter had already slipped into the water and was sitting on the far side, partly obscured by the steam rising off the surface.

"Please turn around Peter."

"Grab the soap before you get in..." Peter called before turning his back and facing the rock wall that formed the back of the grotto. Splashing sounds told him that Wendy was entering the pool.

"You can turn around now..."

Turning his head he saw that Wendy had sunk to her shoulders in the pool, a look of bliss on her face.

"Oh Peter, this is heavenly...." Wendy breathed, her eyes closing as she sank further into the water up to her chin. Peter leant back and rested his shoulders on the rock ledge behind him, also closing his eyes and letting the warmth seep into his bones.

The soap Wendy held in her hand smelt of lilies and roses and she lathered herself lavishly, dunking her head to soak her hair before soaping that as well. Glancing across at Peter she saw that he appeared to have dozed off, his long hair unbound and swept back off his face, his head tilted back exposing his strong neck. Taking advantage of the privacy afforded by his dozing, Wendy rose up out of the water and looked down at herself in wonder, her fingers brushing over her fuller breasts, still small but well formed, her hands spanning her waist and smoothing over her rounded hips. The water had rendered her cotton underclothes almost transparent and she marveled as the amount of hair now covering her private parts as well as under her arms. Ducking back under the surface she scooped water up and washed it over her face, banishing the sheen of grime that seemed almost ingrained into her skin. As a final ablution she snapped off the stalk of a reed-like plant and used it to clean her teeth, for once missing the small tin of tooth powder and its tiny tooth-brush. Finally sweet smelling and clean all over, Wendy sank once more under the water until only her head was above the surface and settled herself to soak, the steam curling around her head as she felt the aches in her muscles fade away.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter waited for the noises of washing to fade away before cracking his eyes open and peeping at Wendy through his lashes. She was resting with her head supported on a rounded rock, her eyes closed, an expression of contentment curving her lips.

While she's busied herself taking off her layers of clothing, Peter had shucked his ragged trousers and entered the pool, quickly lowering himself beneath the surface and hiding his naked state. He'd bathed many times in the pool, often walking naked from his home and returning in like manner, not concerned with his state of undress. Now that had all changed, his cheeks flushing bright red as he hurriedly removed himself to the far side of the pool, careful to avert his gaze from Wendy's semi-clad figure. Part of his embarrassment was his body's unfortunate reaction to being close to her, parts of him suddenly coming to life, his nerves tightening and tensing until he felt self-conscious and uncomfortable. It was in moments like this that he hated having no memory of his life before, of experience with dealing with a similar situation, or the hows and whys his body reacted so strangely and unpredictably. The rustle of fabric alerted him to the fact that Wendy had shed the last of her petticoats and he hurriedly looked down at the surface of the water, steam rising to partially obscure his vision as Wendy turned to face him. She had her arms crossed over her chest and was staring at him, gauging if it was safe to enter the pool. He reminded her about the soap and watched her from the corner of his eye after turning his back as she cautiously entered the water. Once in she sighed happily and announced that it was heavenly. Pleased that she was enjoying the water, he turned back and settled himself to lean against a rock, closing his eyes, apparently dozing. After a short time he heard her start to wash, the air filled with the scent of flowers as she scrubbed herself clean, dunking her head to wet her hair before attacking that as well. Eventually she was satisfied and rinsed herself off, but not before rising out of the water to inspect herself, still wearing her underclothes which were now quite transparent.

All this Peter saw through the screen of his lashes, his body tense as he tried to appear asleep but in fact watched Wendy brush her hands over her body as if discovering its dips and hollows for the first time. His eyes followed her hands and he felt breathless when he saw the shadowed darkness between her legs before she dipped back under the water, hiding it all from his curious gaze. With only his own body as a guide, he could only guess at how different a girl must be from a boy down there, having no memory of any encounters with other females to draw on. His body certainly seemed excited at what he'd seen even if his mind was having difficulty understanding the why's and wherefore's.

Until Wendy's arrival his body, down there, had had only one purpose, his time usually taken up with the process of providing the necessaries of life, with no time for more leisurely pursuits except for the occasional soaks in the hot pool. Now things, down there, were taking a vastly different interest in events, his previously functional body parts reacting in embarrassing and provoking ways that he had no way of knowing were normal or even desirable.

Now that Wendy seemed to have finished her bathing, Peter tried to relax, his body not complying until in frustration he touched himself in an attempt to force his body to stop whatever it was doing. The touch of his fingers as he wrapped them around his offending body part had quite the opposite reaction to the one he was expecting. Heat suffused his body from his toes to his crown, his body, down there, tingling and pulsing as he moved quite naturally to sooth the hardness growing between his legs. Exquisite feelings started to set his heart thumping, his hand moving more surely as he found which movement provoked the nicest results, his lips parting as he sucked in lungfuls of air as if running a race. As suddenly as he'd started his body suddenly reached a peak and he felt a shot of electricity suffuse his groin before his body pulsed in his hands, leaving him shuddering and breathless, beads of sweat dotting his forehead and upper lip.

Completely overwhelmed by the experience he sat panting, his fingers still gripping his flesh which now appeared quite happy to return to its former state.

"Are you alright Peter?"

Wendy's voice acted like a douse of cold water, Peter's eyes flying open in a panic as his face flamed. Wendy was staring at him curiously, her head canted to the side.

"Er....I'm...er...fine." Peter stuttered.

"Your face has gone red...." Wendy remarked, still giving him a quizzical look.

"I'm hot...the water's hot....its a hot pool." Peter gabbled willing her to drop the subject.

"If you say so." Giving him a look, Wendy tilted her head back to soak the hair away from her face, her hands smoothing it back sleekly. "This really makes the most wonderful bath, Peter. At home we had to make do with an ordinary bath and with all the boys you never had enough time to really soak." Lifting her arms again to smooth her hair back, Wendy rose a little out of the water, her wet camisole doing nothing to hide the dark circles of her nipples from Peter's fascinated gaze. To his horror his lax body started to harden again, the familiar tingle setting his stomach muscles knotting. Suddenly aware that she might be showing more than was decent, Wendy sank beneath the water sending ripples across the pond, steam curling up and partly obscuring Peter from her gaze.

Peter sat with his mouth hanging partly open, staring across the water at her his eyes wide. Correctly interpreting the look, Wendy frowned back at him and half turned away.

"Peter?"

"Um?"

"I think you'd better turn your back, I would like to get out now."

"What?"

"I want to get out, please turn your back!"

"Oh...er..sure." Clumsily he twisted around as requested,listening to the splashing of water behind him.

"Don't you peek Peter," Wendy cautioned as she turned her back to scramble out of the rocky pool.

Despite his best intentions Peter glanced over his shoulder and caught an eyeful of Wendy's delightfully rounded rear, her bloomers molded to her skin and hiding nothing from his riveted view as she bent down to steady herself before stepping onto the bank. Feeling faintly light headed he returned his gaze to the rocks of the grotto wall, his body now quite painfully erect and straining to be touched.

"Can I turn around yet?" He asked.

"NO!" Wendy cried out, holding the towel in front of her.

"Oh....alright."

Breathing easier, Wendy continued to dry herself, peeling off her sodden undergarments and wrapping the too small square of linen around herself. Still dripping, her skin rapidly cooling away from the warm water, she grabbed the pile of dry clothes and ducked behind a thick shrub.

"You can turn around now..." She called primly, secure that she was hidden from his eyes behind the greenery.

Very aware of his bodies tension, Peter slowly turned back to face her, hoping that his expression didn't betray what his body was doing under the water. Pinning a grin on his lips he forced himself to relax, sure that the steam still curling into the air concealed him from her view.

Reasonably sure that she was hidden, Wendy peeled off her sodden underthings, the air raising goose bumps as she quickly toweled herself off, her skin starting to tingle. Lastly she rubbed at her hair, removing the worst of the wet before discarding the towel and picking up the clothes. The bundle seemed to only contain men's clothing and Wendy wrinkled her nose at the thought of wearing breeches, but in the end her choices were limited so she donned a dark blue, heavily ruffled shirt that hung rather loosely on her slender frame almost to her knees, and a pair of black satin breeches that ended below her knee but well above her ankles. The waistline was rather loose and she gathered up the remaining articles of clothing while holding her trousers up with one hand.

Feeling as little silly in the oversized clothes, she stepped around the bush and entered the small clearing beside the pool. Peter was still on the far side, apparently still dozing amongst the curling steam.

"They'll a little large.....but...nice." Wendy ventured, dropping her sodden underclothes in a heap with the towel and putting the dry clothes to one side. Peter's head had come up when she spoke and a smile curled his lips as he perused her new attire.

"The blue suits you." Was all he ventured, the smile spreading into a grin when he noticed her holding up her trousers with one hand.

Feeling her wet hair soak through the shirt, Wendy grimaced and swung her hair to the side and over her shoulder.

"I need to get this dry.....I'll take the wet things back and hang them out in a patch of sunshine, they should dry quickly."

Keeping a firm grip on her waistband, Wendy gathered up the wet things and, casting a last smile over her shoulder at Peter, took the path back to the tree house.

As her slender form disappeared into the bushes once more, Peter's smile slipped from his face and his head fell back on his shoulders, his hand once more busy beneath the water as the image of Wendy's near naked form appeared in his minds eye, a groan escaping his lips as he stroked his hard flesh, bringing himself to a shattering climax that left him scarlet and breathless again.

Taking a few minutes to regain some semblance of calm, Peter reached for the bar of soap Wendy had left on a rock and leisurely soaped himself all over, standing up in the water to wash himself everywhere. Ducking his head he then soaped his hair and face, his fingers rasping over the soft bristles stubbling his cheeks and chin. Rinsing off, he finger combed his hair off his face before making his way across the pool and clambering out the other side. Using the remaining towel, he quickly wiped himself off before donning the clothes left in the pile, the shirt and trousers feeling rough against his sensitized skin. He picked up his discarded and ragged trousers and scowled at them, not sure whether to wash them or consign them to the midden. Shrugging he bundled them up with the soggy towel and, after collecting the bar of soap, padded out of the clearing and along the path to his home.

Wendy had made an impromptu washing line from a thin vine, tying it to a branch and draping her wet underclothes over it. She was currently holding up her torn and stained dress, obviously deciding what to do about it. As Peter entered the glade she turned her head and saw him holding up his equally travel stained trousers.

"I really don't know what to do for the best....I think they are both beyond repair."

Peter laughed at her sheepish expression and snagged the ruined dress from her fingers.

"I have a couple of chests full of clothes, there no need to keep these rags."

"Oh but...." Wendy started only to stop when Peter raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose you are right....I just...." She gestured down at herself, one hand still clutching her waistband. "I don't suppose you have any dresses hidden in those chests?"

"Can't say I've really checked, to tell the truth." Peter replied.

"Never mind.....but I could do with a belt...to keep these up."

Tossing the wet towel to hang beside the other one on the vine, Peter snagged her free hand and tugged her towards the tree.

"Come on....time to see your new home."

Pulling open the bark door once more he led the way inside, pointing out the ladders, one going up, the other down.

"Which way?"

"Oh up please..."

Going ahead of her, Peter clambered nimbly up the ladder and waited at the top for Wendy to follow. Once she had negotiated that obstacle she found herself standing in an odd shaped room with a wooden floor, the planks arranged around the thick branches of the supporting tree. The walls were an odd mixture of flotsam and jetsam from the wreckage of the ship held together with vines and platted grasses. The room was quite large and held various bits of homemade furniture along with leather bound ship's chests with rounded lids and an odd assortment of boxes. A plank table sat against one wall with a crude bench for sitting on beside it and along the opposite wall lay a thick, sail-cloth palliasse that Peter used for sleeping on. Above their heads was the thick matt of a thatched roof made of the stalks of reeds and grasses, tightly interwoven and apparently quite waterproof.

"It's......charming Peter." Wendy finally said, noting the expectant look on his face. "You made all this yourself?"

"Kinda....I salvaged quite a bit from the stuff washed up on the shore, and the hollow tree below was already here."

"How did you find it?"

Peter fidgeted and looked away. "I don't know how.....I just, kinda knew it was here."

"Oh.....so, what's down below then?"

"Come on..." Once more Peter snagged her hand and almost dragged her to the hatch leading to the ladder. He led the way back to the entrance, then down the next ladder to beneath the tree. It was dark and Wendy paused half way down when she heard a scratching sound. Almost at once she saw a flame flickering, then light flooded the bottom of the ladder and she could see her way clearly again. Reaching the bottom, she found Peter lighting a series of small candle stubs and ships lanterns placed around the underground chamber.

"Gracious...did you dig this out yourself?"

"No.....well not much...just the access for the ladder...the rest was already here."

The large tree above their heads had spread its roots deep into the earth but at some time the earth had collapsed and left a large chamber off to the side of the main trunk, the tap root burrowing further into the ground, clearly visible in the near side wall. The lateral support roots had spread out to the side and formed the roof of the chamber, thread like feeder roots spreading all over the walls and floor of the room and stopping any further collapse of the dirt walls.

The floor was uneven, dipping and climbing over more roots that protruded before diving underground again. In the lamplight it looked very warm and cosy with several more pieces of ship wreck converted into furniture along with another sail-cloth mattress set up on a ledge dug out of the dirt along one wall. Into one wall had been dug a series of shelves which appeared to hold food stores with several bottles and jars displayed there along with boxes obviously holding what looked like fruit and nuts. All around the walls hung various animal skins giving the room a rather barbaric look and evidence that Peter was a formidable hunter.

"When do you use this?.......I mean, you already have a bed upstairs....."

"When the storms rage, or when I need to feel safe.....I like it down here sometimes...it's quiet."

Rummaging in the boxes set up in his food larder, Peter picked out a bunch of slightly over-ripe bananas and handed them to Wendy. He also collected a selection of other curiously shaped fruits along with a handful of nuts. Their breakfast collected, Peter snuffed most of the candles and lanterns, leaving only two to light the room before leading the way back up to the tree house. Up top they dropped the food on the table before Peter once more descended to collect his pack and the water skin. A small barrel in one corner held fresh water and Wendy found a leather jug that she filled, along with two leather beakers. The table set, she then went over to the chests by the bed and levered open the lids to inspect the contents. They held an assortment of clothes and, to her relief, belts and boots. Pulling out a length of leather she wrapped it through the belt loops of her trousers and secured it around her waist, at last keeping her breeches from slipping off her hips. Finding nothing else of interest in that chest, she closed it and opened the next. Inside were more clothes and an assortment of personal effects, including shaving materials and what looked like clothes brushes. Unable to find a hair brush she chose one of the smaller, soft bristles clothes brushes and sat on the chest to try and bring order to her tangled locks.

When Peter returned he found her picking at a tangle that had matted the hair on one side of her head, the other side now relatively smooth from her vigorous attentions with the brush.

"You found a belt then?"

"Yes thank you....at least I don't have to worry about these falling about my ankles any more." Wendy laughed, not seeing the blush that rose in Peter's face as his over active imagination conjured up the image of Wendy standing only in the over-long blue shirt, her long pale legs bare beneath the hem.

Swallowing hard and willing his blush away, Peter settled himself at the table, angled so that he had Wendy in his line of sight, her own attention focused entirely on the battle with her hair. At last she vanquished the tangle and was able to brush her hair back to its usually glossy mane. It had dried in the warm air and now lay down her back in a cascade of honey blonde, the ends curling up slightly.

"Thank goodness that's done," she sighed, pulling the long strands out of the brush until she had a soft ball of golden hair in the palm of her hand. She looked around for somewhere to discard it and Peter pointed to the opening at the end of the room. It was a little like a balcony and looking down she could see that Peter had used it rather like a large rubbish dump, the ground below littered with discarded fruit rinds, bones and broken wood.

"Oh dear...that will never do." Wendy muttered under her breath, consigning the ball of hair to the pile but vowing to find a better way to deal with their waste.

She padded over the wooden floor to the table and perched on the bench beside Peter. He was using the hilt of his knife to crack the shells of the nuts, discarding the outers and heaping the sweet, soft kernels to one side. Wendy picked at the nuts, chewing them contentedly as Peter worked his way through the collection before eating some himself.

Inside the tree hut it was shady and cool, a faint breeze wafting in the open side and carrying with it the scents of the forest around them. Birds were calling in the branches above them and Wendy could here the faint thunder of the surf above the rustle of the leaves.

After consuming all the fruit and nuts and several beakers of the sweet water, Wendy yawned widely, her stomach full and her body clean, everything right in her world for the first time in days. Beside her Peter had folded his arms on the table and rested his head, intending only to shut his eyes for a moment, but a snore announced that he'd fallen asleep instead.

Wendy shook his shoulder. "Peter...you can't sleep here..you'll get an awful crick in your neck."

Lifting his heavy lids, Peter regarded her for a second before opening his mouth and yawning expansively.

"You're right......come on."

Ignoring her faint protest, Peter grasped Wendy's hand and rose from the table, pulling her behind him to the mattress against the wall.

"But Peter.....we can't....I shouldn't..."

"It's clean..I promise..." Peter assured her, falling onto the mattress and turning on his side, patting the sailcloth invitingly.

Wendy stood undecided looking down at him. It was one thing to share body heat when you're out in the open, it's quite another to willingly share a bed with a male, the impropriety of it made her feel quite unsettled. But it did look comfortable and Peter was already half asleep, and she did want to close her eyes, just for a moment. Biting her lip she crouched down and eased herself onto the strange bed, Peter shifting to make more room for her although there was plenty already. Laying on her side, her back to Peter, Wendy felt tense and stiff, unsure of herself and convinced that she really should not be doing it and maybe she should suggest sleeping in the room downstairs instead.

As if reading her mind Peter scooted up behind her and wrapped his now familiar arm around her middle, pulling her back from the edge.

"Don't want you to fall off the edge..." He mumbled against her shoulder before dropping his head to the mattress and almost instantly falling asleep, a small snore breaking the silence.

Wendy felt her muscles relax with that snore, his arm a welcome weight around her waist, his heat against her back a comfort. Not willing to risk waking him again, she relaxed into the strange bed and gave herself up to sleep, the sound of the birds overlaid by the soft snores behind her the last thing she heard before oblivion claimed her.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was late afternoon when she awoke alone, the smell of something burning bringing her awake in a hurry. Scrambling to her feet she climbed down the ladder and pulled on the string that opened the door to the outside. Following her nose she saw a faint track leading off to the side behind the tree near the rubbish dump. The smell of burning was getting stronger and she could see smoke rising from the bushes ahead. As she emerged from the shrubbery she saw a strange little building, not much more than a shelter, inside which appeared to be a stone fireplace which was currently burning brightly, a stock of firewood ready to be fed into its maw stacked off to the side. A crude table was the only other piece of furniture in the open sided hut and Peter was standing at it, deftly skinning and gutting some small animal, the skin already hanging on a pole waiting to be washed and cleaned.

"Peter?"

"Supper." He announced, holding up the carcass, his hands bloody with gore.

"Rabbit?"

"Squirrel."

Gulping, Wendy tried not to think of the small furry creatures that she and her brothers had put out nuts for the last winter, watching the clever rodents work out how to carry as many as possible back to their nests.

"I did wonder what you used to cook on as there is no fireplace in the tree." Wendy commented, keeping her distance from the butchery and seating herself on a knoll of moss.

"As you say....it is a tree." Peter agreed, grinning at her. Wendy watched as he finished cleaning the three carcasses before skewering them on smooth sticks ready for cooking. Picking up a bucket, Peter then sluiced the table down as well as clean his hands and knife, much to Wendy's relief. The fire had a crude grill made out of disparate pieces of metal and Peter lay the squirrel bodies so they rested above the flames on the metal rods.

"They won't take long to cook...." Peter remarked when he noticed Wendy's interested look. "Wanna take a walk?"

"Sure......er...there was one thing I wanted to ask you....um....is there...oh dear...is there a...water closet near the tree?"

Peter looked confused, his head canting to the side as he tried to decipher what a water closet might be. Wendy, embarrassed to have to ask, colour up.

"What's a water closet?"

"Gracious, how awkward.....it's where you do....your business?"

"Business?"

"Oh don't be so obtuse.....you know......a chamber pot, water closet.....personal business."

Understanding dawned and Peter grinned at Wendy's obvious discomfort at having to discuss such a private concern.

"Well when I'm on my travels I just...." He waved and hand.

"Yes I know that," Wendy rolled her eyes."But when you're home?"

"Over here." Peter resisted the urge to tease her further and indicated for her to follow. Still a rosy shade, Wendy walked behind him until he had circled some distance behind where she knew the tree-house was. There was another small shelter with only a roof and no sides at all. In the center was a hole in the ground with a bucket and shovel beside it. Wendy regarded it with some dismay but hid her feelings from Peter who appeared quite proud of his rough privy.

The smell of meat cooking drew them back to the cookhouse where Peter turned the skewers before once more indicating for Wendy to follow him. Leading her through the trees he remained in front of her, blocking her view of what was ahead.

"Where are we going Peter...surely...." Wendy's voice petered out when Peter stepped to the side and let her see what he'd brought her to.

"My own private cove." Peter announced, waving his hand expansively to encompass the small beach, its nodding palm trees and sparkling bay screened at each end of the beach by cliffs, the lagoon protected from rough weather by rocks that stretched across the mouth of the bay like a sea wall. Fine white sand ran down to the water's edge and tiny waves lapped at the hull of a small canoe that sat pulled up just out of the water.

"Oh Peter....it's beautiful."

"There's plenty of fish in the lagoon and the rocks keep the bigger predators out, so no sharks. There is a path over the cliffs but its a steep climb."

"It's lovely Peter......is there time for a paddle?"

"I'll go check on the supper....you..." He waved at the water, grinning.

Wendy smiled back and ran down the slope to the water, halting when she reached the water's edge. One wave pushed ahead of the others and lapped at her toes, the water quite warm and clear. A breeze lifted her hair and Wendy turned her face into it, breathing deeply of the clean, salty air, the zephyr a silky caress on her face.

This was a side of Neverland that she had not had the time to experience on her previous visit, being so caught up in their childish adventures and make-believe games. Now it was much more real and Wendy was starting to wonder if, when the opportunity ever came for her to go home, she would be able to leave Neverland, and more importantly, leave Peter.

She turned to leave the beach, her toes digging into the soft sand, but a sudden pain in her belly made her pause, her hands resting over her stomach as another twinge made itself known, her lips parting on a gasp as she bent over to relieve the pain. After a few seconds it eased and she straitened up slowly, unsure what had caused it. When it didn't re-occur she started back up the beach only to collapse when another pain lanced again through her belly making her cry out in shock at its severity. Curled up on her side, her hands pressed against her middle, Wendy could only grit her teeth and ride it out, the cramps pulsing inside her as she tried to curl herself tighter. As quickly as they'd come they eased, Wendy panting to try and relax herself. Briefly she tried to think what might be causing the cramps but another wave wiped all thought from her head as she curled up, biting her lip to prevent her crying out. When this one faded she tried to rise onto her knees, pushing against the sand with one hand while the other remained pressed to her abdomen. She was only half way up when the next one hit hard, a scream wrenched from her throat as she fell back to the sand, a rush of warmth between her legs heralding the onset of her first precipitous menstruation.

Peter had frozen for a second when he heard her scream, then he was bounding down the track and burst onto the beach to see her curled in a ball on the sand. Reaching her side he dropped to his knees and tried to see where she was hurt.

"Wendy...what is it? What's happened....where are you hurt?"

Still caught in a grip of a painful spasm Wendy could only gasp, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her hands clutching her middle. Feeling helpless, Peter could only watch, Wendy's body relaxing fractionally as the cramp eased, her forehead smoothing as her eyes fluttered open to gaze up at him.

"I-I-ts not supposed to-to.....be like this....Mother....Oh God..Mother said it would only be like....like a tummy ache."

"What? What's the matter?"

Another cramp made her shut her eyes, grit her teeth and curl up again, shifting her slightly on the sand. To Peter's shock the sand beneath her was stained red. Suddenly aware that the dark trousers were hiding a bleeding wound, Peter quickly hooked his arm under her legs, the other behind her back and lifted Wendy despite her groaning protest, the sand quite pink where she'd been laying.

"No...I'm..alright." Wendy gasped, unable to articulate what was happening to her.

"You're not alright, you're bleeding.....you're hurt!"

As he carried her back to the tree house Wendy continued to make faint protests, begging him to put her down and leave her alone. Ignoring her, Peter continued on to the clearing, already working out how he'd get her up the ladder.

Wendy was mortified, ashamed that her very private initiation into womanhood was being witnessed by Peter, wishing with every fibre of her being that she was safe at home with her mother on hand to explain and sooth and help her through this rite of passage, her transition from girlhood to being truly a woman.

They reached the tree and Peter managed to get her positioned over his shoulder so he could negotiate the ladder, reaching the floor above and carefully carrying her to the mattress to lay her down. Too caught up in her bodies expurgation of the lining of her womb, Wendy didn't pay too much attention to what Peter was doing until he lay hands on her belt and tried to undo her trousers.

"NO!" Wendy almost shrieked, batting at his hands.

"You're hurt.....you're bleeding....." Peter remonstrated, prying her fingers from his wrist to continue his attempt to remove her trousers.

As she was too weak from pain to put up much of a fight, Peter won the battle and managed to get the blood soaked trousers off. Wendy could only moan piteously in embarrassment and pain as she tried to cover herself with the long shirt.

"What happened? Did you cut yourself? Did you fall? What happened?"

Peter had fetched a bucket and cloths and was preparing to clean away the blood staining her legs and thighs when Wendy found the strength to sit up.

"Peter please...." She gasped, stilling his hand which had been about to lift her shirt. "Its not an injury.....it's something that happens to girls....to women......ugh!" She stopped as another cramp sent her back to the mattress, Peter watching helplessly, his eyes drawn to the red blood smeared on her thighs.

"What can I do...Wendy, tell me what needs to be done?"

"There's nothing that can be done.....it happens....every month....please, leave me the bucket...and....and a clean shirt..." Wendy pleaded, panting through the cramp knotting her belly.

"But..."

"Please Peter.......leave me....."

Not at all convinced it was for the best, Peter nodded reluctantly, leaving the bucket and cloths by the bed and quickly finding a clean shirt from one of the chest for her. Returning to the ladder he caught and held Wendy's pain filled gaze before lowering himself down and out of her sight.

Once alone, Wendy struggled to remove her soiled shirt, both horrified and amazed at the events taking over her body. As quickly as she could she cleaned herself up, wincing as she wiped away the evidence of her induction to adulthood, her hands shaking a little as she mourned the passing of her childhood forever. Once more presentable, she donned the clean shirt after creating a pad to put between her legs from a towel she found in one of the chests. The mattress was also stained so she used some fresh water to clean that, blotting it with another towel. Exhausted she lay back down, unable to do more as her head thumped painfully with a headache.

Half an hour later Peter popped his head through the hatch to check on her and found her asleep, her pale face washed free of pain. Seeing the bucket and bloodstained rags he swallowed hard, having a tough time believing that she wasn't more seriously injured. Gathering up the blue shirt and bucket with the rags, he disposed of them outside for washing later along with the towels before returning to the tree house. The forgotten squirrels were well cooked and he carried them up to the table, busying himself with preparing the meal, his eyes glancing frequently at the girl on the mattress, ever alert in case she called for him. The late afternoon was now turning to dusk with the sun dipping towards the horizon, leaving a sky shot with crimson and purple behind it. Peter lit a couple of lanterns when it got too dark to see, the yellow light flooding the snug dwelling as he sat alone at the table and munched the cold meat and fruit supper.

Wendy awoke an hour later and asked for a drink, Peter holding it to her lips as she swallowed the cool water gratefully. She then asked for another towel, which Peter supplied before he turned his back to give her some privacy. Blushing Wendy changed her pad, folding the used one over it bloody evidence and placing it in the now empty bucket to be washed later.

"I'm sorry you had to see all that Peter.....usually men aren't involved with this sort of thing."

Turning around Peter crouched next to the mattress and looked into her eyes. Wendy had ducked her head, hiding her face from him but he hooked a finger under her chin.

"What is all this about Wendy? Why were you bleeding...and why do only women do this?"

"Oh dear.....this isn't at all proper for me to have this talk with you..usually the father tells the son about.....all this."

"I don't have a father."

"No....I know you don't....its just.....men aren't usually interested in a woman's.....things."

Peter frowned at her evasiveness. "Don't you know what's happening either, is that why you won't tell me?"

"No...no...of course I know....I mean, Mother had the talk with me soon after my last birthday...its just....oh goodness this is awkward."

Peter huffed as she continued to prevaricate.

"Well I'd tell you if it was me....."

"Alright....alright, don't...badger me." Wendy rolled her eyes and sat up straighter, marshaling her thoughts. She felt completely out of her depth, her mind a jumble of theoretical knowledge and the facts now before her, the theory made real, so different from the calm approach her Mother had made it seem.

"Oh dear....I suppose I should start with that fact that girls...er...women have babies."

This time Peter was the one to roll his eyes. "I know that."

"Well because women have the babies, each month their body has to prepare for that possibility."

"Of having a baby?"

"Yes....so each month a woman's body gets ready, but if she isn't going to have one then her womb sheds its lining and it is expelled out of her.....er....her.....um.....body."

"Oh." Peter's forehead crinkled as he tried to understand. "So this lining....what's that used for?"

"It's where the baby grows inside the woman."

"In the....what was it?"

"Womb."

"Yeah....so, if she's not having a baby, she sheds this....blood....every month?"

"Yes....it takes a few days but after that she starts to grow another lining until the next month. Then it starts all over again."

"I see...I think. What about the pain? Is it supposed to hurt like that?"

"With some people it does.....Mother explained that she got really bad pains the first couple of months but not after that.....so maybe it's just when you first have your monthly courses, then it settles down."

"Oh." Peter appeared to think about it. "So how does a woman stop them?"

"Well.....I suppose the only way to stop them....is to have a baby."

"Do you want a baby?"

Wendy looked a little startled, her eyes flying to his.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Well....if you had a baby, then you wouldn't bleed and be in pain, would you?"

"I suppose not...but I don't want a baby right now.....I'm too young."

"Are you?...Oh. So how old do you have to be to have a baby?"

"Oh goodness....I don't know....and anyway, first you have to have a husband before you can have a baby."

"Why?"

Wendy blushed, finding herself floundering.

"I-I-t's something to do...to do with what married people do....when they sleep together....it makes babies."

"But what do they do?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Wendy shouted at him before bursting into tears.

Peter blinked, surprised at her outburst as she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"I'm sorry....I didn't mean to upset you."

Receiving no reply, Peter scooted closer and put his arm around her. Emboldened when she didn't pull away, Peter tugged her towards him so that her head rested against his shoulder while he rubbed small circles on her back to sooth her.

"I promise not to ask any more questions.....really." Peter assured her, dropping his chin to rest it on her hair as she hiccuped into his shirt.

Pushing herself away, Wendy mopped her eyes and sniffed, regarding Peter dolefully.

"Is there anything to eat?"

Glad that she appeared to have recovered, Peter pulled her gently to her feet and guided her solicitously over to the table.

"I've had my share so eat what you want." He offered as she eyed the slightly blackened roast squirrel sitting on a leaf in front of her.

"Thank you.....and Peter?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

Pouring her a beaker of water, Peter grinned down at her.

"About as much trouble as a parcel of monkeys," Peter teased, sitting himself beside her as she ate. "But a lot nicer to look at."

Smiling at his compliment Wendy chewed slowly. Fearing the return of the cramps, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the beaker of water and took a sip. Her fears remained unrealized, her abdomen not cramping once during the meal. Still feeling tender she lay back down on the mattress after changing her pad again, not feeling quite so embarrassed but still self conscious when she noticed Peter glance at the cloth as she placed it in the bucket to soak.

Laying on her side she watched as Peter cleared the table, wrapping the remains of their meal and carrying it down the ladder. When he returned he sat cross legged beside her, snuffing all but one of the lanterns so that the world shrank down to just them and the circle of light.

"Do you remember anything before Peter ?"

"No....at least nothing outside of dreams and nightmares."

"Tell me about your dreams."

Glancing down at her, Peter smiled crookedly and shrugged.

"They're all just jumbled images, feelings, faces....faces I can't put names to."

"Do you ever...." Wendy bit her lip. "Do you see my face in your dreams?"

Peter stared off across the darkened room. "No.....I don't think I've ever seen your face, not before we met on the beach, that is. I do remember seeing a man's face frequently in my more memorable nightmares."

"What does he look like?"

"Dark.......and dangerous with eyes that seem to glow red."

"Hook." Wendy whispered, remembering that glow appearing in the pirate captains' eyes just as he raised his hook to deliver a killing blow to Peter lying helpless on the deck.

"Why do I fight him all the time? He always has a sword in his hand and I'm always fighting him.....I can never tell where, or why...but we fight endlessly...."

Still haunted by her own memories of James Hook, Wendy didn't elucidate. "What else do you dream?"

Not entirely sorry not to talk about his nightmares, Peter smiled a little before continuing. "This is going to sound...silly, but sometimes I dream of being underwater, of swimming deep underwater with fish darting around me and I feel perfectly safe, not worried about breathing or drowning, just floating and watching the fish swim by."

"That sounds a nice dream," Wendy murmured, already half asleep. "I sometimes dream that I'm in a ballroom with everyone beautifully dressed and I'm dancing, the music so loud, and I'm whirling around in someone's arms but I can't see his face, even when I look up his face is all fuzzy.....but I love the dancing, its almost like flying...."

"I don't know how to dance," Peter mused, his chin resting on his knees. Looking up he saw that Wendy was watching him sleepily. "I think I'd like to dance with you....would you teach me?"

"Of course...I think I'd like to dance with you again...."

Peter gave her a quizzical look. "Again?"

"It seems so long ago...but you and I danced together just once, the night we watched the fairies...." Wendy yawned, missing Peter's skeptical expression.

The silence stretched between them, Peter gazing into the darkness while Wendy tucked her hand under her cheek and closed her eyes.

"Do you really want to go home?" Peter's voice pulled her from the lure of the darkness.

Already dozing, Wendy had to work hard to understand his question. "Why would I want to go home?"

"You said you did....before." Pete explained, finding himself holding his breath waiting for her reply.

"I was tired....but I guess I do want to go home...Mother and Father must be so worried..." Wendy's voice tailed off.

Peter heard her breathing even out as she slipped into sleep, her lips slightly parted as she dreamed.

"I don't want you to go home.....I want you to stay....." Peter whispered knowing that Wendy no longer heard him. Reaching down he gently moved a piece of hair out of her face, his fingers drifting down to trace the line of her cheek in a tender caress. "Please stay....."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: Four - Show and Tell (or Friends and Fungi)

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy sat on the white sand with her back against a large log, the driftwood bleached as white as the sand. Palm fronds rustled above her head and cast a welcoming shadow over her as she stared out at the bright water, the waves lapping with lazy precision against the shore, the horizon lost in the haze of distance and heat.

Feeling a trickle of sweat work its way down her back, she eased the cotton shirt away from her skin, wafting the broad leaf she employed as a fan in front of her face to create a cooling draft. Her body was more settled, the severe cramps now no more than a memory, the piece of cloth between her legs still bearing the badge of her womanhood but no longer bearing the stigma of pain. Her hand drifted slowly away from the loosened buttons of her shirt, careful not to brush against her tender breasts, another symptom her Mother had warned her about and now had direct experience of. Wendy smiled to herself when she thought of her treatment at Peter's hands, his manner both tender and blunt, apparently not subscribing to the usual male norm of disdaining anything to do with women's problems. He had willingly helped her to the hot spring that morning, leaving her to bathe and attempt to wash out the cloths she had used. As soon as she had dried and redressed herself, he'd appeared and carried the laundry back to the tree house, hanging it out and making her sit down, not allowing her to really lift a finger. She surmised it was partly because he'd had to do everything for himself for so long that he didn't think it odd to do it now, a perspective she found refreshing coming as she did from a society where such matters as laundry were an anathema to most males.

It made her feel as if she was made of the finest china as he fussed over her, his eyes following her until she shooed him away to go hunt, or whatever he usually did, leaving her to amuse herself as she saw fit. With obvious reluctance he had done as she bid, gathering his knife and other paraphernalia and disappearing into the forest to restock their larder. Wendy had wandered around the glade after renewing her acquaintance with the tree house, before exploring further, ending up at the cove with its enticingly warm ocean and shady beach.

Her eyes slid shut against the glare and she let her mind wander, reviewing all that had happened in the few short days since she'd been precipitated back to Neverland.

She must have dozed because she awoke with a start and blinked, the dark shape in the water a blur until she focussed. When she did she gasped out loud, her fingers pressed against her mouth.

The figure in the water stared back at her from obsidian eyes, the waves buffeting the creature as she wallowed in the shallows.

Opening her mouth the Mermaid emitted a sound that Wendy felt in her insides, setting them quivering. As if pulled by strings Wendy rose to her feet, dropping the leaf fan from lax fingers, and started down the slope of the beach towards the water. The Mermaid kept up the sound until Wendy was within a foot of the water then she stopped.

As if in a trance Wendy stood beyond the reach of the waves, swaying slightly, the rising breeze pushing strands of hair into her face.

Rising up on her tail the Mermaid regarded the human girl, blinking slowly as she studied Wendy from top to toe. As if satisfied, she opened her mouth and another sound emerged, much softer than the first. As if waking from a sleep Wendy blinked and look around, confused to find herself beside the water.

"What happened to me?"

"I call you, woman."

"Why?"

"You Pan's....you fix him."

The Mermaid's speech was labored and broken, the words interspersed with clicks and throaty noises that made understanding the creature a challenge. Wendy's forehead creased as she tried to decipher the words.

"Fix?"

"Pan....not Pan....you put right."

"You want me to.....help Peter remember?"

"Yes....yes.." The creature nodded enthusiastically, her sculptured lips pulling away from her sharp teeth in a parody of a smile.

Wendy stared fascinated, her previous encounter too brief to allow her to get really close to the mythical creatures.

Pulling her thoughts together, Wendy shook her head slightly to clear her mind.

"What happened to Peter......to me?"

"Pan need woman.....need....Pan alone."

"Yes..but why me?"

"You Pan's." The creature stated emphatically, sitting back on her tail and crossing her scaly arms across her chest.

"How did I get here....and how am I like..."Wendy waved at herself, "This?"

"Not important."

"Well it is to me.....how do I get home again?"

The Mermaid reared up, towering over Wendy so that she stepped back.

"You stay.....fix Pan.....never leave."

"But...."

With a slap of her tail, the Mermaid sent a sheet of water up the beach.

"Stupid woman....not listen...must fix Pan....or all die!" She hissed, baring her teeth in a grimace, her black eyes blazing.

Swallowing her fear, Wendy stood her ground.

"You fix him then....I don't know what you expect me to do."

"Be Pan's woman.....Pan return when Pan finish what he started."

"You're talking in riddles....I don't understand."

"Must leave...Pan approaches...can feel him....be his woman...."

"No wait...." Wendy reached to stop the Mermaid but reared back when the creature hissed violently, her webbed hands sprouting claws that swiped the air in front of the girl.

With a muscular flex of her tail, the Mermaid threw herself back into the water, the splash soaking Wendy as she threw her arms up to protect herself. When Wendy lowered her arms the Mermaid was gone, only ripples and foam to indicate she had ever been there.

Wendy stood on the sand staring blankly at the ocean, willing the creature to return and explain. A touch on her shoulder made her scream and spin around, losing her balance.

"Hey....steady..." Peter grabbed her shoulders with both hands to stop her toppling over, his brows drawn together in a frown as he took in Wendy's bedraggled state and white face.

"Oh Peter....oh you scared me...." Wendy gasped, leaning towards him and resting her head against his chest, her heart hammering as she fought back the moment of panic.

Feeling her trembling, Peter pulled her closer, his head turning to search the surrounding for some clue as to what had so frightened her. Seeing nothing, he gently pushed Wendy away and tilted her face up to look at him.

"What happened ?"

"A....Mermaid, she came right up here, on the beach....she spoke to me."

Peter eyed her speculatively, his hands coming up to feel her head for bumps. "Sure you didn't fall and pass out or something?"

Wendy slapped his hands away, taking a step back from him. "I'm fine Peter....it was a Mermaid....she spoke to me and told me.....things."

"It was a dream Wendy......you must have dozed off."

Almost stamping her foot in frustration, Wendy scowled at him. "I was not sleeping.....she called to me and spoke...she....." Wendy stopped, not at all sure what the Mermaid had really said or wanted of her.

"Go on....what did she say?"

"She said......I had to......fix you."

Peter gave a shout of laughter, his eyes dancing as Wendy scowled more ferociously. "Fix me? There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Yes there is.....you can't remember anything before you washed up on that beach, you said so yourself. And you can't remember Tinkerbell, or me or the Lost boys or Hook or....or...anything!"

This time it was Peter's turn to scowl, his eyes darkening in anger and frustration. "So what....who cares about them....they're not here, and I only have your word that they ever existed outside of your imagination!"

"Oh don't you dare say I dreamt it all up.....they are real, as real as you and I....."

"I wonder if you know the difference between what's real and what's not....I don't believe you saw a Mermaid....you were asleep and had a dream....that's all!" Peter shouted at her, his hands on his hips.

"I did not....you horrid, arrogant, conceited.....BOY!" Feeling tears pricking her eyes, Wendy flung away from him and ran up the beach, stumbling as her feet sank into the soft sand. Peter watched her go but didn't follow, his lips clamped together to prevent a string of curses escaping as he fought to control his temper.

As quickly as it had risen, his temper cooled and he started up the beach after her, pausing at the tree-line to look back at the sea, seeing nothing but sea gulls and waves, no evidence of anything else to lend credence to Wendy's claims. Huffing a sigh, he turned and disappeared into the trees, not seeing the dark head break the water out in the lagoon, the Mermaid's dark eyes glinting narrowly before she dived back under the surface.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy's healing feet scuffed through the soft leaf litter as she paced back and forth, her thoughts a jumble of confusion, still angry with Peter for his continued denial and angry at the Mermaid for her cryptic words, so tantalizing but confusing. What did she mean by 'fix'? What was wrong with Peter? What did she mean when she said that she, Wendy, could never leave? And did the Mermaid know how Wendy could go home?

One hand on her hip, Wendy continued to pace, oblivious to her surroundings.

From the concealing depths of a thicket a pair of shrewd brown eyes watched the girl pacing back and forth, a faint smile curling the thin lips set in a berry brown face. His thick, straight black hair was tied in a top-knot decorated with shells and bones carvings, streaks of white paint decorating the small man's face and body, his limbs well muscled and also decorated with painted patterns. Around his waist was tied a length of cloth, his feet bare with ankles surrounded by shell bracelets that clicked together faintly as he shifted. For all his primitive decorations, the small man held an expression of calm sagacity, his age indeterminate but his eyes holding the wisdom of the ages.

Unaware of her audience Wendy continued her musings, her brows pulled together in a frown. As she whirled around to start back on her path, Peter appeared in front of her halting her progress.

"Wendy please....." Peter started, holding his hands palm out in a pacifying gesture that Wendy chose to ignore.

"Don't Peter.....you think I'm making this all up...but I'm not. A Mermaid did speak to me......she did."

Using his most engaging smile, Peter lowered his hands. "I believe you."

Wendy regarded him suspiciously, her heart melting a little at the curl of his lips, her own begging to echo that smile but her mind ruthlessly suppressing the urge. "You believe me?"

"I believe.....that you believe that you saw a Mermaid."

"Good grief!" Wendy threw her hands up, stomping past Peter to resume her pacing. Peter darted forward to place himself in her path and Wendy had to pull up short or collide with him.

"I'm sorry.....but you have to admit it all sounds fantastic...almost unbelievable. Mermaids....Fairies...Pirates?"

"But that's what Neverland is Peter....fantastic, wonderful. Its a place where your dreams comes true....it was your place once...your dream."

"So you say....and apparently I can fly and I fight pirates...with a sword, I believe you said?"

"You could Peter.....if you only had a sword I'd show you!"

"I do."

Wendy blinked. "You do?"

"Yes....I found a long case washed up, in it was a pair of elaborately decorated swords as well as a pair of dueling pistols."

The wind taken out of her sails, Wendy finally gave into her heart and let her lips curl up into a smile the mirrored his own.

"Then I think it's time we test your memory."

Not waiting for Peter to reply, Wendy dodged around him and headed off back to the tree house.

"Hey.....wait!" Peter called, jogging after her.

In the bushes, the little man smiled broadly before giving a nod, satisfied that events were moving along apace. With a last glance at the now empty glade, he turned away and started to walk, quickly melting into the shadows as the forest swallowed him up.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter stared down at the intricate basket hilt of the sword clasped in his sweating palm. The weight felt both strange and familiar, the muscles in his arm flexing expectantly as he hefted the blade, finding his balance as he experimented with lifting and swinging the blade around his body and over his head. Wendy stood some distance away, also testing her blade, her own muscles protesting at the heaviness dragging her arms down, both hands having to hold the hilt upright. This was no childish blade, scaled down to her size; this was a fighting blade, albeit more ornately decorated, the steel lethally sharp and balanced to perfection.

Studiously avoiding thinking about the men the dueling blade might have killed since it was made, she swung it carefully, feeling it pull her off balance, her hands white knuckled as she attempted to control the pull of the counter swing.

Peter was feeling more confident, twirling the rapier with one hand, showing off his superior strength and ability as the metal flashed and sliced through the air before he stopped it in a graceful swoop, moving into the en garde position.

"This is easier than I thought," he crowed, grinning from ear to ear. Wendy smiled back, pleased that his body had not forgotten its skills even if his mind had difficulty remembering. Approaching, she also placed herself in the starting position, praying silently that her arm held out long enough to give him a run for his money.

"En garde!" Wendy cried, tapping Peter's blade with her own. Peter tapped her back and they backed away a step. Poised on the balls of his feet, Peter flexed his knees and lunged, Wendy parrying his feint and returned the move, their blades sliding against each other as Wendy pressed forward and Peter gave ground. As they tested their defenses the glade rang with the clash of metal on metal. Wendy could feel each blow up her forearm, her free hand coming to support the other as she fielded another blow, her knuckles turning white with the strain.

Peter appeared to be suffering no such strain, his blows controlled and deadly accurate, his body perfectly balanced as he moved like a dancer, blocking and feinting without any apparent conscious decision.

It ended when Wendy failed to properly block and her blade slipped, Peter's rapier over-reaching and connecting with her upper arm, drawing blood. Wendy's blade dipped as she clapped a hand over the wound, Peter dropping his own sword to the ground and rushing forward.

"Wendy, I'm sorry.....I didn't mean.....let me see!"

Just as shocked at the suddenness of the injury, Wendy let the sword drop from her fingers as Peter eased her hand away from her arm to better see the cut. Bright blood stained her shirt sleeve as Peter ripped the material before applying pressure, his fingers shaking slightly as he waited for the bleeding to ease.

"I'm so sorry....you dropped your guard and I couldn't stop...."

"I know...Peter it's alright....it's only a nick!" Touched by his concern, Wendy allowed him to help her to sit down, her arm sore and starting to throb but only bleeding sluggishly.

"I guess this answers the question rather emphatically." Wendy ventured a moment later, more in an effort to distract Peter who was still holding her arm, blood seeping through his fingers.

"What question?" Peter asked, flicking his eyes to hers.

"Whether you know how to sword fight...."

Peter only grunted, lifting his hand and watching the wound, ready to clap his fingers back if it continued to bleed.

"I think its stopped, but we need to bandage it," he pronounced, his expression serious.

Wendy attempted to lighted the mood and reached up her free hand to touch his cheek, bringing his eyes round to meet hers.

"It was an accident Peter....you didn't mean to hurt me."

"Stupid idea to fight in the first place....should have realised you're not strong enough....stupid."

"If you're going to start telling me that girls can't fight I'll box your ears!"

A smile suddenly quirked Peter's lips, his eyes dancing at her fierce tone. "I was going to say I thought you defended yourself admirably, but if you're going to box my ears...."

"Oh really!" Wendy huffed, unable to prevent a smile curving her own lips at his compliment.

With infinite care Peter helped her to her feet, not letting go of her until she assured him she didn't feel faint or dizzy, then they made their slow progress back to the tree house. Peter went back to collect the rapiers after he settled Wendy in the upstairs room, hurrying back to help her wash and bandage the cut and put the arm into a sling to avoid any jolting.

"This is rather silly Peter," Wendy remarked, gesturing to the sling.

"You don't want to open the wound and bleed all over the place, do you?"

"Well no....but don't you think..?"

"The sling stays.....at least until tomorrow."

Giving in to his dictatorial demands with a faint sigh, Wendy settled herself on the mattress with her back against the wall, watching Peter fill the beakers with water, one of which he passed to her before joining her.

"So.....I guess I know how to handle a sword." Peter stated after a few minutes.

"Yes Peter......you do." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Still think I'm making this all up?"

"You were right about the sword fighting....but that could have been a lucky guess....you've yet to prove that all the rest is for real." Peter retorted, ignoring the glint that appeared in Wendy's eye at his continued refusal to believe her.

"I see. I can't force the Mermaids to appear, any more than I can force the fairies....I guess we'll have to wait and see."

"What about the pirates and the Indians?"

"Well the Jolly Roger was obviously destroyed, for whatever reason, and Hook had already been swallowed by the crocodile, so he was done for. Maybe the crew were killed in whatever wrecked the ship."

Peter appeared to think about that for a few minutes before he ventured to speak. "Would you recognize this ship if you saw it?"

Wendy appeared startled but quickly recovered." I think so....parts of it certainly."

Peter swirled the last of his water around in his cup, staring into its depths.

"Can you swim?"

Amused, Wendy shot him a quick glance. "Yes...although not strongly."

Peter glanced sideways at her. "I know where the ship is....or at least where it went down."

"Where?"

"Not that far from here....just over the headland."

As he fiddled with his cup he wondered if he was doing the right thing, not at all sure that he wanted to find out more about his past. The sword fight had been a revelation, his body seemingly well able to take care of itself, his arms and legs responding to signals he wasn't even aware of giving, the sword feeling like an old friend in his hands. Even now he could feel the rush of exhilaration that set his heart thumping and his blood singing in his veins leaving him feeling more alive than ever before. He now wondered what other surprises were waiting for him aboard the wreckage of the ship Wendy seemed convinced was called the Jolly Roger.

"I'll take you there......but not until tomorrow."

Ignoring Wendy's pout, Peter collected the cups together and climbed to his feet. "I have to scale my catch......"

"I'll come and watch..." Wendy started, struggling to get to her feet one handed.

"No...stay here....rest....it won't take long."

"But......"

"NO!" Peter barked, making Wendy stop her struggles and stare up at him in surprise.

"Peter?"

Ignoring the hurt sound in her voice, Peter tumbled the cups onto the table and stalked off, not trusting himself to go if he looked back and saw the confusion in her eyes. Swinging himself down the ladder he yanked at the rope and stalked out of the tree, kicking up the leaves as he took himself off to the cook house. He didn't know why he was angry, only that he felt unsettled and unsure. Most of his insecurity seemed to stem from the girl sitting in the tree, his heart contracting painfully when he recalled how close he'd come to severely injuring her, her blood warm and sticky under his fingertips, his eyes riveted to the pulse beating in her throat. For a wild moment he'd wanted to press his lips to that pulse, to feel the life surging through her, a life that could so easily be ended with the slip of a blade. He felt pulled in all direction, needing and wanting to be near her, to touch her, talk to her but also scared to death of the power she seemed to have over him, her allure impossible to resist.

Needing to vent some of his frustration he subjected his catch to a rough scaling before slitting the fish from stem to stern and almost savagely gutting them, his violent emotions barely scratched by the mundane task. Needing some other physical activity to distract him, he grabbed the small hatchet that sat beside the woodpile and headed off into the thicket, selecting a fallen sapling to chop into firewood. The effort of hacking the dead wood into usable pieces proved mind numbingly effective, his body working up a sweat as he expended his excess energy. In the end he created enough firewood for a week and the fish done to a fine turn on the skewers. After wrapping the fish in the ever present leaves, he decided to leave Wendy to eat alone while he had a soak in the hot pool and washed off the evidence of his mornings work.

Wendy had been staring out at the jungle, her mind turning over recent events, when Peter returned to the tree house, one arm carrying a leaf wrapped bundle which he dropped onto the table.

"Lunch." Was all he said before going to the corner and snagging the bar of soap and one of the newly cleaned towels.

"Peter?"

"I need to wash off this sweat....I'll be back later."

Avoiding eye contact, Peter quickly descended the ladder and marched down the short path to the pool. Stripping off his stained shirt and dark trousers, he picked up his knife and laid it with the soap on a rock by the steaming water, his fingers untying the thong holding his hair back before he entered the pool. Dunking himself he rubbed himself all over to sluice off the worst of the dirt before soaping himself and his hair until both squeaked with cleanliness. Shaking himself like a dog, he reached up and pulled some of his long hair around and peered at it, grimacing at the ragged ends. Reaching for the knife he started to slice off his sun bleached locks, hunks of his hair dropping to the surface of the water where he scooped them up and dumped them on the side. As he worked he checked periodically on his reflection in the surface of the water, his fingers finding any long strands that he missed. It was crude and ragged but his neck and shoulders were no longer irritated and tickled by the unruly strands. At last he could run his hand over his shorn head and feel no missed hair, his fingers running over what was left in wonderment. Dunking himself under the water to remove any left over clippings, he broke the surface to find himself the subject of a curious pair of brown eyes, the owner sitting cross legged on the soft grass near the tree line.

"An improvement, I'm thinking." Remarked the little man, his eyes twinkling.

"Who the hell are you?" Peter growled, reaching for his knife once more.

"Not needing that, you'll be. I come to see if the rumours are true."

"Who are you and what rumours are you talking about?"

His knife clasped loosely in his hand, Peter regarded the stranger with narrowed eyes, noting the dark skin, glossy topknot and strange ornamentation, the bones and shells gleaming in the dappled sunlight.

"Who I am is not important, but you can call me Kiranowangakatangatowaki.....or call me Kirano if that is too long."

"That's a long name for a small man." Peter remarked, his lips quirking.

Kirano shrugged, "I was named for this island.....'Son of the island which gives life to all and lives in a dream'."

Peter regarded the small native with a shrewd gaze, noting the lack of any weapons other than the tiny bow strung over his chest and a stout staff that lay by the man's feet, its surface intricately carved.

"I don't intend to hurt you, Kirano..but I'm getting out of this pool now and getting dressed."

"As I would expect from one purported to be the Pan, cautious yet courteous...you have nothing to fear from me." The little man watched as Peter rose from the water, his knife laid to one side as he roughly toweled himself dry and donned his clothes. Sheathing his blade once more at his waist, Peter sat cross legged on the grass in front of Kirano.

"You freed me from the trap." Peter suddenly stated, receiving confirmation when Kirano inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"It was never intended for you, or anyone...I was hoping to trap a fine boar that is known to use that trail."

"Did you?"

"Alas the creature is more cunning than I and managed to evade my best efforts, he lives to fight another day."

"And that was your fire in the rift?"

"The nights are cool and my old bones get more brittle each year."

Peter snorted in amusement, noting the man's semi naked state and good physical condition.

"Why have I not seen you before now?"

"You were not ready."

"What's changed?"

"She has come."

"You mean Wendy?"

"She will put things back the way they should be."

"Things?"

"You....this place....the peoples that exist here."

Peter's brow furrowed as he tried to fathom what the extraordinary little man was saying.

"There are other's here?"

"Certainly....this is not a dead place...this island breathes, lives, grows, dreams....there are many who's lives depend upon your own."

"I don't understand...."

"It is not necessary for you to understand....you just need to accept."

"Then Wendy was telling the truth....about the Mermaid's, the fairies...the Indians?"

"Your woman is not given to telling lies....trust your heart Pan....it will lead you to the truth, maybe the greatest truth this world has ever known. It will lead you back to the beginning and onwards to the future."

"Maybe you can explain then......she says that I've changed, that I was not like this only a short time ago. What does she mean and what happened to me?"

Kirano sighed. "This place is like no other....it can change anything and anyone to suit its moods. It changed you, it changed her, it can change someone to save them, it can change someone to give them their deepest desire....you it changed because as the boy you were, you would not have survived, as a man you could....as you have, and as you will. She was changed because you no longer needed a child for company, you needed something that was your own, had always been yours and would be yours forever....so she was and so she is."

Shaking his head, Peter opened his mouth to speak, to clarify the riddles the mans was speaking but Kirano held up a hand and Peter snapped his mouth shut.

"I am not allowed to explain further....I can only speak as the island guides me...no more. She is restless and has need of you...we will return."

Stretching out his cramped limbs, Kirano rose to his feet, Peter also rising to find that the small man barely reached to mid thigh.

"But..." Peter started only to be stopped again by a raised hand.

"I will tell you no more.....this is a journey Pan...one you must make, with her or without her....with her, we all stand a chance to live and be what we should be...without her, you are no more, and no less than an ordinary man and this island....is just an island."

Picking up his staff, Kirano turned to leave the grotto, the shells around his ankles clicking together as he walked. Picking up his discarded soap and towel, Peter followed, more confused than ever and unable to make head or tail of Kirano's riddles.

"Hey wait......" Peter called, having lost sight of the small man. Bursting through the bushes into the clearing around his home tree, Peter saw Kirano performing a low bow to Wendy who stood framed in the entrance to the tree, her eyes meeting his in surprise and some bewilderment.

"Peter....this....er....man just appeared."

"This is Kirano......I...met him at the pool."

"It is a pleasure to at last meet the much beloved Wendy Darling." Kirano announced, drawing Wendy's attention back to him.

"Oh....thank you....Kirano?" Hampered by her arm still in a sling, and not wearing shirts, Wendy performed a shaky curtsy her blue eyes darting back to Peter and suddenly noting his altered appearance.

"Oh my gosh......you're hair......what did you do?"

Flushing under her scrutiny, Peter ran his hand over his stubbled head, the short strands feeling strange.

"I cut it."

"I can see that....." Wendy replied, a little shocked at the abrupt change, her eyes raking over his handsome face while her fingers itched to run through his shortened bristles. Clenching her free hand to still the urge, she returned her attention to the small man standing at her feet, his amused eyes watching their interchange with no small amount of interest.

"Um....Kirano? Would you like to share our midday meal...."

"It is long past midday Pan's lady, and I am hungry. I will share your meal...if I am permitted to add something to the repast?"

Seeing that he carried nothing more than a small bow, quiver and his staff, Wendy looked over to Peter who only shrugged.

"Um....certainly." Wendy replied, wondering what he could possibly add to the fish and water waiting on the table upstairs.

As Wendy and Peter looked on, Kirano walked over to a patch of clear ground and scraped away the carpet of leaf mulch with his staff until he had a bare circle of dirt. Standing with his feet apart he raised the ornate staff above his head with both hands before bringing it down hard, hitting the exact center of the circle of exposed earth at his feet. Immediately the earth started to heave in that small area around the staff, the ground cracking and breaking up as something pushed through. In the space of a few seconds bulbous white fungi were popping up all around the staff and even beyond the circle of cleared ground, all around Kirano's bare feet until the ground was white and thickly carpeted with gleaming white mushrooms.

Peter had edged closer to the tree and Wendy in a protective gesture, not at all sure what to expect, his eyes widening along with hers as they watched Kirano bring forth a feast of fungi. Just as the white caps seemed set to engulf the entire glade, Kirano lifted the staff from the ground and the explosion of growth stopped abruptly.

"You're sling please?" Kirano held out his hand to Wendy who slipped the cloth square over her head and stepped forward, careful not to step on the newly emerged mushrooms, to hand it to the man.

Bending down Kirano picked a dozen or more of the choicest specimens and bundled them up in the cloth, clutching the edges together in one hand while he lifted the staff again with the other. This time when he brought the staff down on the earth the white field of mushrooms started to shrink, the white caps disappearing back under the earth until none were left except those held in his hand.

"These will be acceptable, will they not?"

Kirano stepped over to the stunned pair by the tree and held the cloth bundle out to Wendy.

"T-t-thank you..." Wendy stammered, taking the bundle and peering past the tiny man at the ground beyond.

"How did you do that?" Peter asked, staring at the staff with new respect.

"A small gift granted to me by the spirit of this island....." Kirano shrugged, stepping past Wendy's legs and disappearing into the tree.

Exchanging a look with Peter, Wendy unwrapped the cloth and stared at the pristine fungi now cupped in her hand.

"I guess we're having mushrooms with our fish," said Peter with a cocky grin.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: Five - Something Old, Something New
Rating: PG15-sexual references (nothing toooooo graphic and mostly above the belt-but beware, deals with dawning sexuality between our dynamic duo)

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Lunch was a strange affair with Kirano seated between Peter and Wendy, the tiny man quite content with the sparse fare, the mushrooms eaten uncooked as they proved exceedingly tasty eaten au naturale.

At the end of the meal he announced that he had places to be and things to do, then before either of his hosts could object he was gone, down the ladder and outside, vanishing into the trees before Peter could do more than rise from his seat to pursue.

"Gracious..what a funny little man." Wendy remarked when Peter returned from his brief search.

"Funny or not, he knows what is going on here...with us...with you."

"He know's how I came here? How I can go home?"

Peter shot her a hard look, his brows drawn together in a scowl.

"Always with you it's about going home!" He shouted suddenly angry with her, his heart thumping painfully. Wendy appeared taken aback at his vehemence for a second before her own temper rose.

"Well I didn't ask to be brought here, Peter Pan. I was happy to be growing up at my own pace, and anyway....you-you...you never came back, so what was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know....I didn't know you existed until a few days ago!"

"Oh you are impossible!" Wendy shouted, getting up from the bench and standing toe to toe with him, jabbing a finger at his forehead. "It's all in there....you just have to remember...but you're too pig-headed to use the brains God gave you!"

"I'm not pig-headed!" Peter shouted back, his hand swiping at her finger, smacking it away.

"Ow!" Wendy yelped, glaring daggers at him, her chest heaving as she raised her hand to box his ears. Peter was too quick, his own hand capturing hers before she could deliver the blow, his eyes flashing sparks as he pulled her against him, his own breathing ragged.

"You little she-cat...you were going to hit me!"

"So.....you deserve it for being such a horrid...horrid boy!"

"Is that the worst you can call me?" Peter laughed at her, infuriating her further.

"No....Its not....being who you are, the worst thing I can call you...is a MAN!"

"What?"

"A Man...a big, boorish, overbearing, grown-up-never-to-play-again man!"

Staring down furiously into her flushed face, Peter felt something build up inside him until he had to act or explode. Keeping his long fingers wrapped around her weakly flailing wrist he kept her other arm pinned to her side when he circled his arm around her then Peter bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. It was more effective than he'd ever imagined, Wendy freezing into immobility as he moved his mouth over hers, her own at first stiff and unresponsive but quickly softening as he continued to kiss her.

As the seconds passed Wendy could feel all her resistance melt into nothing as his lips explored hers, the tip of his tongue hesitantly touching the seam of her lips until she parted them, as curious as him to find out how it felt to share so intimate a sensation. Her arm had quickly lowered, Peter still loosely circling her wrist until he let go altogether, resting his free hand on her hip. Wendy raised hers to hesitantly wrap her fingers about the back of his neck, those same questing fingers brushing the short hairs on his head producing sparks behind his closed eyes.

As Peter pressed harder, she opened her mouth wider, his tongue darting inside, inviting hers to explore as well. Shyly she did so, almost jerking in surprise when they met tip to moist tip, her body suddenly becoming aware of the lean length of his pressed closely to her, squashing her tender breasts against his chest.

After a minute or more, which to the oblivious pair seemed to last an eternity, they parted, pulling away with a clinging of lips and a blinking of lashes until they stood for a second staring at each other, both with the same look of wonderment in their depths.

"Good grief...." Wendy breathed, loosening her hold on his neck, a tide of colour flooding her face before she hastily disengaged herself and stepped away. As surprised as she, Peter let her go, his hands falling to hang by his side, his chest suddenly tight and his heart jumping about erratically.

"I-I....er....I have to go....um..." Peter stuttered and stammered, his expression one of baffled amazement as he turned to leave her.

"Yes....I think you should...er.. go, that is." Wendy marveled that she was able to string two words together and even more marvelous, remain coherent. Her heart was drumming a tatoo that threatened to deafen her, her lips tingling from the kiss, her fingers already wandering up to touch them in wonder.

"Right.....I'll go..." Peter continued to back away, almost falling down the hatch before he twisted and found the first rung. As he descended he risked a brief look up at Wendy and surprised a dreamy look on her face, provoking a smug smile to crease his own before he disappeared from view and out of the tree, his blood singing in his veins.

In the tree house, Wendy had collapsed back onto the bench, her eyes wide.

"Oh dear...what would Mother say?" She mused to herself before a smile crept over her face, her eyes dancing.

The brief kiss, or thimble as she'd called it back then, that she'd shared with Peter aboard the pirate ship had been so sweet and yielded so unexpected a result that she'd thought all kisses would be like that. But what she'd just shared with him had been vastly different, more raw, more intense, more everything. Every nerve ending seemed to have sparked into life, her awareness of every contour of his body etched on her memory, her fingers almost itching to touch the short, silky hairs at the back of his neck again.

"Oh dear me....."

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Peter was on fire, his pulse thrumming from that all too brief contact with Wendy. Unaware of his direction, he found himself standing on the beach, the water blue and sparkling in front of him. Suddenly feeling the need to cool off he stripped off his shirt and shucked his trousers before diving head first into the sea, his body slicing through the waves until he surfaced some distance into the lagoon.

The sea cooled his body but did little to still his thoughts. Uppermost was the overwhelming desire to rush back and kiss Wendy again, this time not to stop but to keep going and explore the feelings that had been welling up inside him. As he trod water, he licked his lips, tasting the brine from the sea but also remembering the feel of her against his mouth, the slick touch of her tongue as it tangled with his.

Groaning aloud he lay back in the calm sea and floated, staring up at the clouds scudding across the blue sky, the sun heating his skin as he wallowed. For long minutes he just reveled in the freedom of swimming in the sea, the clamoring of his body pushed to the back of his mind for a brief moment, but eventually he had to take notice that some parts of his body were not subsiding at all. Treading water once more he tentatively reached down under the surface and wrapped his hands around his hardness, his lips parting on a long moan as his hand started to move provoking the same reactions as before. Finding it distracting to have to tread water at the same time he let go of his body and struck out for the shallows. When it was became shallow enough for him to rest on his knees but still have the water up to his shoulders, he once more employed his hand around his manhood and started to stroke, the small waves buffeting him as he panted to draw breath, the unbearable tightness coiling in his belly as before until he threw his head back, mouth open and spilled his essence into the sea, a waves almost knocking him over as he shuddered and twitched, knees grating against the sandy bottom of the lagoon.

Panting heavily he released his grip on his body and flopped forward, coming to rest on his hands, his nose barely above the rolling waves.

Crawling forward so that half of him stayed in the water and half out, he lay on his side with his eyes closed as the waves rolled over him, pushing and pulling at his legs and lower body.

He wished now that he'd had the foresight to ask Kirano about what was happening to him, why his body seemed to be taking over whenever he got close to her, touched her, kissed her.

Groaning aloud, Peter rolled onto his front and cradled his head on his arms, the sun burning a hole between his shoulder blades and on back of his now exposed neck. Feeling exhausted and gritty he pushed himself to his feet and lurched up the beach, snagging his clothes and tugging them on.

He was already wondering when he could kiss her again.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The afternoon was drawing to a close when he finally returned to the tree house bearing a selection of fruits for their supper. He found Wendy sitting on the bench by the open window, the fading sunlight falling on her lap where a needle flashed as she darned the ragged hole in the shirt she'd worn that morning. Peter dumped his load of fruit on the table and approached her, not at all sure of her mood.

"I found needles and some thread in one of the chest." She spoke hurriedly, not giving him the chance to speak first. "I figured we didn't have enough to be wasteful, so I'm going to darn this tear then start on my dress and those trousers." She pointed to the pile of fabric at her feet. "I'm supposing, given that most of the shirts are either made from silk or the finest cotton, that they belonged to Captain Hook.....but I don't think it really matters who they belonged to. Do you?"

Peter could only look at her as if she'd run mad.

"What are you talking about?"

Wendy stopped her sewing to look up at him, noting the water darkening his short hair, a drip snaking down the side of his neck.

"Did you go for a swim?"

Remembering what he did during the first swim caused a hot blush to colour his face. Ignoring her enquiring look, Peter went back to the table and grabbed one of the rounded coconuts and pulled out his knife. Winkling out the holes in the end, he carefully poured out the juice into one of the cups before bringing the hilt of his knife down on the nut and cracking it open. With his face no longer flaming, he turned and offered a piece to Wendy who refused, holding up the sewing as an excuse. Shrugging Peter picked up a couple of pieces and carried them over, sitting himself down cross legged beside the bench.

"Peter....about what happened."

Concentrating on the white flesh of the coconut, Peter grunted a reply.

"Well.......I don't think we should do that again."

Choking, Peter put the back of one hand to his mouth, swallowing hard.

"What?"

"I don't think we should....er...kiss again."

"Why not....you enjoyed it...I...er..enjoyed it..what's wrong with kissing?"

A little taken aback by his enthusiasm, Wendy couldn't help a smile from tilting her lips. "You liked it?"

"Didn't you?" Peter retorted, not meeting her eye.

"Well....I suppose I.....well, yes....of course I did...I just..."

"So when can we do it again?"

Startled Wendy dropped the needle and the shirt and they all slithered to the floor.

"But.....again....?"

"Yes......but this time without all the shouting before hand."

"Oh...yes, I suppose so.....but..um...I have to finish this sewing first." Wendy said hurriedly, grabbing the clothing from the floor and bending her head to continue darning.

"Good...later then." Peter reiterated, chewing happily, still not meeting her eyes.

"If you say so Peter."

Despite her calm voice, Wendy felt hot and fidgety inside, her fingers only shaking a little as she plied the needle, her mind not at all convinced that she should have agreed to Peter's suggestion, sure that it would all end in disaster or at least the end of the world. Working herself into a fine state of nerves, she managed to prick herself on the needle three times before she heaved a sigh and gave up the darning, blaming the failing light as the excuse.

Hearing her comment, Peter rose to light the lamps, discarding the now empty coconut shell out of the window to land down below with a hollow thump. As Wendy bundled up the sewing to set it aside, he gathered up the small barrel that held their fresh water and tucked it under his arm.

"I'll just go fill this."

"Yes...of course....take your time." Wendy called as Peter disappeared down the ladder. Pulling the bench back to the table, she sat down and regarded the selection of fruit. Picking up a large, yellowy-green fruit she used a small paring knife she'd unearthed along with the sewing kit and cut the fruit open. Inside densely packed, round black seeds glinted in the lamp light, the flesh already oozing beads of juice as she scooped the seeds out. Cutting the flesh into slices she took a bite and found it sweet and delicious.

Her appetite engaged, Wendy consumed the fruit with relish, consuming two banana's on top of the papaya, her hands and mouth sweet and sticky with juice.

Peter had returned with the barrel and she asked him to pour some into the bucket so she could wash off the stickiness. That done, she disposed of the rinds and skins out of the window, grimacing as they disappeared from view.

"There has to be a better way of disposing of our rubbish than out the window."

Peter was sitting at the table with a short stick, wittling away at the wood and sending chips flying over the table.

"It's worked fine so far....why bother?"

"Because eventually it will smell and it makes a dreadful mess down there."

Peter raised his head and sniffed. "I can't smell anything."

"Oh good grief." Wendy grumbled, flopping down on the mattress and putting an arm over her face.

Peter instantly put down his knife and the half-whittled stick and sauntered over to the bed, flopping down on his stomach beside her.

Apart from a slight tensing of her muscles, Wendy didn't move.

"Wendy?"

"Yes Peter?"

"Do you think....could we try that....kissing again?"

Wendy slowly lowered her arm and turned her head to look over at him, noting that his bottom lip was pulled in under his teeth and a light seemed to be shining in his eyes.

"I suppose so.....but nothing else mind.....just....kissing."

"Cross my heart..." Peter tried to match action with words but nearly overbalanced, causing Wendy to giggle nervously. Shuffling over using his elbows, Peter positioned himself so that his head could easily lean over hers without putting any weight on her. The side of his body was pressed up against hers, her arms resting bent at the elbow, fingers interlaced across her rib cage.

Wendy was staring up at him looking slightly apprehensive, her wide blue eyes as fathomless as the ocean, the long lashes blinking slowly as she returned stare for stare with him. Keeping his eyes open he lowered his head until there was only a hairs-breadth of space between them. He was close enough to see his reflection mirrored in her dark pupils before he closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers. This time his tongue came out immediately, licking at the softness of her lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of the fruit juice before begging entry to her mouth. Wendy's eyes had slid shut at that first contact, the lashes like dark smudges against her cheeks. At his insistence she parted her lips and allowed him entrance, his explorations taking in her teeth and gums before tangling with her own tongue. Peter angled his head to give him greater access and deepened the kiss, Wendy arching her neck to greatly increase the pressure as their lips slid over one another, tongues dipping and delving and discovering what each tasted like.

Needing to draw breath Peter lifted his head and broke the kiss, but almost instantly returned to lick and suckle the plump morsels parted so temptingly for him to explore. Wendy tried to capture those busy lips, her own wanting him to stop darting about and press against her. Reaching up she cradled his face in her hands to keep him still then pressed her advantage, returning his biting kisses until he groaned and once more sealed his lips over hers, his tongue hot and silky against her own.

Somewhere along the way she registered that Peter was no longer laying beside her propped up on his elbows but had his body half over hers, their legs entangled, hip to hip, his forearms bracketing her head, fingers buried in her hair as his mouth pressed kisses against her lips, cheeks and chin, progressing in slow degrees to her neck. His weight felt so right on hers, her own body arching against him, her feet running up the back of his legs and down again, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, keeping him close to her. Despite still being fully clothed, heat seemed to spring at every point of contact. Peter wanted to strip off his clothes, and Wendy's too, to feel skin on skin to relieve the ache building in his bones, his flesh needing to feel the coolness of the air to stop the fire consuming him.

Wrenching herself away with difficulty Wendy drew in a gasping breath, Peter's lips still mapping the skin of her neck, inexperience no barrier to his mounting desire to explore every inch of her.

"Peter....stop....please....oh...you have to stop!"

Only half hearing her breathless words, Peter returned his attention to her mouth, cutting off further protests, Wendy giving into his demands until they broke apart again minutes later. This time she pushed against his shoulders.

"Peter....stop.....NOW!"

Finally registering her voice, Peter lifted his head and stared down at her, his own eyes glazed with swirling emotions.

"Stop?"

"Yes stop....this is going too fast....you said we were only going to kiss...."

Peter grinned. "We are kissing."

"Peter!"

"What's wrong....this is nice....kissing you is nice...isn't it?"

"It's perfectly nice....but I just feel....oh I can't explain..." Pushing herself out from under him, Wendy rolled onto her hands and knees, tugging her shirt down and pushing her hair out of her face. Peter lay on his side, his expression one of frustrated bafflement as he watched her scramble to her feet and go over to the window, her back to the room.

Scrubbing at his cropped head, Peter sighed gustily and sat upright, his body still clamoring for more while his head acknowledged that things might have been going along a path they were neither of them ready for.

Peter decided to break the silence hanging heavily between them. "I'm sorry...I thought you were enjoying it."

"I was..it was very...pleasant. It's just.....oh you don't understand."

"No..I don't understand.....what did I do wrong?"

"Peter...only a week ago I was just on the brink of growing up, still a child to look at even if, in my heart, I was already all grown up. Now I'm back here in Neverland...somehow I have to return you to the way you were, which I have no idea how, and my body has aged so much that I hardly recognize myself. Everything is moving too fast....I don't know..." Wendy gestured helplessly. "I don't know what to do, what to feel."

"You want to go home." Peter stated flatly.

"Yes....no....I don't know.....please understand." She gestured to encompass the room. " All this...I thought it...you....had been left behind....a nice dream but destined to be forgotten in time. I never expected to see you, or this island ever again."

Hurt by her words, despite acknowledging the raw truth behind them, Peter lurched to his feet, scrubbing his hand across his mouth.

"Well I wish you'd never come here either....I was fine without you here...I was fine!" Lashing out, Peter caught the edge of the bench with his foot and sent it flying to crash against the wall. "I don't need you to remember for me....I don't need you and your stupid make-believe...go home....go back to where you came from....and take your stupid kisses with you."

Flinging away from her, Peter made for the hatch and shinned down the ladder before Wendy could articulate a reply to his outburst. Outside he dashed his hand across his eyes to stop the moisture pooling on his lower lashes from spilling over.

"Stupid girl and her stupid mouth...to hell with them all!"

Setting off at a run Peter disappeared into the trees, his feet carrying him along the dark and shadowed path, leaping over fallen branches until he eventually tripped and fell on his hands and knees somewhere deep in the forest, his chest heaving, the tears finally falling.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The tree house was in darkness when he returned several hours later. Silently he climbed up to the room, lifting the hatch and securing it behind him. With only the slanting bars of the waning moon to light his way, he padded across to the mattress and the soft sounds emanating from the sleeper curled upon it.

Wendy lay on her side, her hair spread out around her head, her hands open against the sail cloth. The lips that had caused him such previously unknown pleasures were slightly parted and tilted at the corners as if their owner dreamt of beautiful things in her sleep.

Crouching down, Peter reached out a gentle finger and traced their outline in the air above her face, careful not to actually touch her.

"I'm sorry.....I'm sorry I don't remember you from before...I'm sorry I don't understand what's happening now....I'm sorry..."

As if hearing him even in her sleep, Wendy sighed and turned towards him, her eyes still tightly closed, her face illuminated by a weak bar of moonlight that stretched its long fingers across the bed.

As if finding the sight of her an unbearable torment, he rose to his feet and prepared to leave but a sound stopped him before he'd gone more than two steps. Restless in her dream, Wendy turned over, her hand now resting where Peter usually slept, the fingers spread wide as if questing for his warmth and substance. From her lips issued a name.

"Peter...." As soft as a breath but a clear as a crack of thunder, her utterance of his name froze him in place, his body responding to her call as if pulled by strings. Gritting his teeth he tried to resist only to hear her say his name again, the sigh so faint he had to strain to hear her.

"Peter.....don't go.......don't leave me...."

Convinced that she must be awake, Peter lowered himself to the bed and carefully crawled up beside her, laying down so that he faced her but didn't touch her.

"Wendy?"

His whisper didn't disturb the sleeper, her face still soft and unmarked with worry or anger. This time when he reached out for her shadowed features he allowed himself to touch her, finding her skin soft and warm, a spark shooting up his arm when he touched her parted lips. Groaning internally he curled his fingers into a fist to stop himself giving in to the desire to stroke the velvet of her cheek or tangle his hand in the long strands of her hair.

"I can't leave you.....can I?" He asked himself, pillowing his face on his hands as staring at her shadowed face. "Not now....not ever...."

Pressing his lips tightly together, Peter shifted himself so that he was now on his side facing away from her and the temptation she presented to his body and mind. Feeling that he'd never sleep peacefully again he closed his eyes, images running like darting fish behind his eyelids before sleep dragged him unknowingly into the darkness.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He was dreaming he was swimming underwater, the feel of the sea like silk caressing his naked skin as he twisted and turned, stretching his limbs to their fullest, feeling the muscles pull and strain, his blood thumping in his chest and a tingling starting low in his belly. He could see fish darting among the coral, their bright colors flashing like the sunlight on water, always just beyond his reach when he went to grab them. Laying on his back he could look up and see the surface of the sea far above him, waves rolling over it leaving bubbles and foam behind, his body not straining to breath as he floated unconcerned below, far from the air and sunlight above. He felt again the tingling down below and looked down at himself to see his body once more hard and wanting, the water doing little to cool or soften his overheated skin. Needing to touch himself he reached down but somehow he couldn't seem to connect, the heat starting to build unbearably as he tried again and again to grasp his own flesh to relieve the tension building up in his muscles. He started to panic, feeling long tendrils of seaweed wrap themselves around his legs, tethering him to the sea bed, more of the long whippy leaves wrapping around his torso and arms preventing him from touching anything let alone himself. Struggling he tried to free himself, his mouth opening wide to call for help but finding his voice gone, the seaweed turning into hands that held and stroked him until he thought he'd run mad with the sensations swamping him, the hands having no bodies that he could see, no faces that he could identify, just the feeling of fingers dancing over his skin, building the tension to a pitch while he squirmed to free himself, touch himself to relieve the burning need.

Then she was there, gliding towards him in the water, her hair streaming out behind her, rippling in the water. She circled him lazily, her blue eyes mocking him as he floated, trapped by the seaweed,only his head free to twist and turn as he followed her movements. He couldn't see her legs but did notice that she was not wearing a stitch anymore than he was, her rounded flesh teasing him as her hair covered her then was pushed out of the way by her twists and turns, always keeping her body facing him as she circled.

"Wendy?" He called to her, begging her to release him, to not leave him, to touch him. As if hearing him, she came closer, his body straining towards her as she floated closer until she was only a few inches from his face, her lips parting before she closed the distance and sealed her lips over his. Peter felt himself devoured by her, his heart rising in his chest to be swallowed whole, his body screaming for release as she continued to kiss and consume him. As they kissed he felt something wrap itself around his hardness, squeezing and caressing until he felt stars start to burst behind his eyelids, his body exploding into a thousand pieces with his release, the water, Wendy and seaweed all drifting into the ether, leaving him floating peacefully in nothing, his body still shuddering and trembling in the aftermath of his shattering climax.

With a sudden jerk he woke up.

For long seconds he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling of the tree house, his body feeling tremors pass through it as he fought to come fully awake, the disturbing images of his dream parting like tendrils of fog as he blinked to clear his vision.

It was still early, the sun barely risen to cast a pink glow into the hut as he studied the thatch roof and tried to calm his thumping heart. As the dream released its grip he turned his head to find that sometime during the night Wendy had snuggled into his side, drawn by his warmth, laying with her arm across his chest and her leg thrown over his hips.

He lay tensely still until her even breathing soothed him and he relaxed, his free arm coming up to lay across his eyes as he let out a long breath. Wendy shifted and pressed closer, her leg bending to bring her knee up. Peter hissed as her leg brushed against his body which was up and eager for attention. Groaning softly he reached down to push her leg away, perforce leaning into her and feeling her soft contours mold to his torso, not helping to lower his level of arousal one whit.

Fearing that he would embarrass himself if he didn't do something and get away, Peter attempted to disengage Wendy from his side without waking her.

It proved harder than he thought.

As he shifted to turn on his side to face her, she shifted with him, clinging to his body, her hand dragging across his chest before clutching at his shirt to anchor herself. It brought her head to rest just under his chin, her hair tickling his face. The rest of her was now pressed against the length of him, her softness molded to him as if she was half of his whole, her curves fitting his hollows, her leg still crooked over his hip bringing her lower half in intimate contact with his.

No better off, Peter bit his lip in unbearable torment, his body impossibly hard and fighting the restraints of his clothes.

As if feeling the tension, Wendy squirmed against him, forcing him to groan again, the sound enough to wake her and make her stiffen in his arms.

"Peter? What are you doing?" Came her muffled voice against his shirt.

"Nothing..." He gritted out, fighting his bodies urges with all his strength.

Finding herself plastered to him, Wendy started to disentangle herself, unwittingly brushing against Peter and making him draw the air into his lungs with a hiss.

Thinking him in pain Wendy stopped, her eyes wide as she noted his tense features.

"What is it Peter? Are you hurt?"

"No....just watch what you do with that knee."

Startled Wendy glanced down between their bodies, noting the position of her leg poised so near his groin. As she stared she also noted the outline of his hardened body through his trousers and she blushed from head to toe.

Careful not to touch him unnecessarily, Wendy backed herself off the bed, Peter flopping onto his back in relief, his arm once more covering his eyes as he fought for control.

Wendy was panting slightly herself, trying to avert her eyes from his trousers but finding herself drawn to the outline of his body as if pulled by strings.

"Can't you do something....about that?"

Lifting his arm, Peter glared at her. "Nope....it's your fault it's there in the first place!"

"What?"

"Well what do you expect when you plaster yourself all over me....I'm only a male, after all."

"What?" Wendy's voice rose an octave, her mouth agape at his audacity to blame her for his body's behavior.

"I said...." Peter started to repeat but stopped when Wendy held up her hand.

"I heard what you said....I have to go and....do something." Pushing herself to her feet, her face still pink, Wendy backed away to the ladder and felt for the rungs with her bare feet. Her last view was of Peter, arm once more flung over his eyes, her own drawn irresistibly to his groin and the outline still clearly visible.

Gulping, she hurried down the ladder and out of the tree.

Peter listened to her departure and ground his teeth in frustration. Knowing only one way to meet his bodies needs, he thrust a hand down his trouser front and, being already on the brink, only needed a few strokes to leave him gasping and trembling, his body at last satisfied.

A little calmer he rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his arms.

Continuing to live in close quarters with Wendy was obviously going to strain the limits of his endurance to the extreme. Groaning again he closed his eyes and gave into the pull of sleep once more.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy walked the short distance to the privy and took care of her immediate needs, shivering slightly as her bare feet came in to contact with the dew covered leaf litter of the forest.

She didn't want to return immediately to the tree house so let her feet lead her down the path to the beach. There she sat herself down at the base of a palm tree and stared out at the sea.

Thinking back on what had just happened she couldn't repress a smile and a giggle from escaping her lips. Poor Peter. Wendy had brothers, she was not unaware of a boys anatomy, her brother John often caught out adjusting his trousers because of an embarrassment by his body, especially whenever Wendy had a friend over, the girls giggling together as the boys vied for their attention.

This was different. This was Peter, a grown up Peter with a body verging on manhood and all the accompanying needs of that state. But also a Peter that only a short time ago had been just a boy, with no understanding or desire for love and the intimacy involved with the physical side of love, that is until she kissed him.

Startled, Wendy thought again about that kiss, given in haste and despair aboard the Jolly Roger, a final farewell in expectation of the blood and death to shortly follow. Then is had given Peter a surge of life, invigorating him and freeing his spirit so that he soared into the air, an explosion of emotion that blew the pirates into the water and Hook into the rigging. But of course Peter remembered nothing of that, and now he couldn't even fly, let alone turn pink and explode.

Maybe all this was her fault, maybe that simple kiss had caused everything that had followed. How she didn't know, but maybe Kirano did.

Convinced that this was all her fault, Wendy trudged miserably back through the trees, too upset to notice the small, brown man standing in the middle of the path.

"You called for me?"

Taken unawares by his sudden appearance, Wendy gasped, her heart beating a rapid tatoo.

"Goodness, you frightened me." Catching her breath she stared at him. "Did you just say I called for you?"

"You were thinking that I could help you....were you not?"

"Well yes....but..."

"Then I am here. Come let us be seated." Indicating a fallen tree, Kirano seated himself on the mossy bark and waited for Wendy to follow.

"Firstly....this is not your fault....at least not in the way you perceive it to be."

"But my kiss...." Wendy interrupted only to have Kirano hold up his hand.

"That was inevitable from the moment the Pan first saw you. You were a creature he could not dismiss, or banish or ignore. You were what he had been waiting for."

"I was?"

"You are also what he needs now to 'fix', as Elosia put it so crudely, him now."

"But I don't know what to do."

Kirano caught her eye and gave her a level stare, Wendy finding herself abashed by his candid look. "All you have to do, Pan's Lady, is to love him."

"But surely...."

"Just love him...stay with him....be to him all that he has never had."

Feeling a lump in her throat, Wendy stared down at her hands. "I don't know if I can.....I'm not old enough for all this."

"So you purport, and so you continue to excuse yourself....but is it really the truth? When you made the decision to leave him the first time and return to your world, was that the decision of a child? Did you wantonly want to hurt him, hurt yourself?"

"No.....I-I felt it was the right thing to do."

"Then why are you fighting your heart now.....you are not a fool. You have willingly embraced your decision to grow up, something men and women who reach their dotage are still unable to do.....your body is a reflection of what you feel in here," He pointed towards her chest, "and in here..." He pointed to her head. "When the two are in harmony then what age you are is irrelevant."

Seeing the indecision still puckering her brow, Kirano huffed to himself. " Do you think that to be grown up is just about wearing elaborate clothes and having pretty manners? Growing up means accepting that you are not the only person in this world, that what you do impacts on everyone around you. Growing up is accepting responsibility for your deeds and your feelings, and the affect they have on those you love and care for." Kirano paused, letting his word sink in.

"What must I do?" Wendy asked, raising her head.

"Do you love him?"

"I.....yes."

"Then you are already half way to bringing him back. His memory will return in time. The more he shares with you, the more he will trust you and come to love you. The Pan has had little to hold onto, you are his lodestone, his evening star."

"What happened Kirano....to Neverland, to the fairies to everything?"

"You race ahead of yourself Pan's Lady....suffice to know that you are already effecting a change and life is returning where once it was gone."

"I am......where, what has returned?"

Giving her a broad grin Kirano pointed to himself. "Do not underestimate the ability of one person to change a world."

Wendy tried to understand, her hands clasped in her lap and clenching convulsively.

"Will I ever go home again?"

The little man regarded her gravely, his brown eyes sympathetic.

"You do not ask the right question. If you are asking if you will see your parents and brothers again....only time will tell. If you are asking permission to run away and hide like a child from your feelings and your situation....to run away from the Pan? That will never be given. Nothing that has happened has been by chance and the future is not always clear.....your future, and the future of this place and the Pan are, and always have been, in your own hands. Have a gentle touch."

Wendy regarded the calm brown eyes with a shrewd look.

"I think, Kirano...that you are a master of dissembling."

"Why do you say that, Pan's Lady?"

"You give me hope but tell me very little of what I should do. You expect me to accept that I can never go home, but say that I might see my family again....it's all so jumbled." Wendy raised her hands helplessly. "I need time to think about it all."

Hopping off the log, Kirano stood leaning against his staff looking up at Wendy.

"Just remember to listen to you heart Pan's Lady....it will guide you."

Turning on his heel Kirano marched off, his glossy top knot swaying as he walked. Glancing down at her hands Wendy looked up again and found him gone.

Surprised, Wendy slid from the trunk and stared in the direction she'd last seen him. There was nothing to see or hear to indicate the little brown savage had been talking to her only seconds before.

A rumble from her stomach reminded her that the sun was climbing in the sky and the morning now well advanced. She felt apprehensive facing Peter, but Kirano's words repeated themselves endlessly in her head. "All you have to do is love him." Feeling completely out of her depth, Wendy scuffed her way along the path towards the tree house, unaware that her slow progress was being keenly observed from above.

Before she had reached out a hand for the vine to open the door Peter let out a whoop and swung down towards the ground, landing nimbly in front of her.

"Going somewhere?" He asked, adjusting the pack on his back.

"Well....to get some breakfast actually."

"Nope....it's on the run this morning...have you forgotten I said I'd show you where the ship went down?"

"No...I hadn't forgotten....but after last night...." Wendy eyed him apprehensively. Lifting his free arm he ran his hand over his head in a gesture that was becoming familiar to Wendy as a sign that Peter was not entirely comfortable with the conversation.

"Well.....last night was last night....." Peter said dismissively. "I've packed food and drink and a change of clothes....lets get going."

Shaking her head at his lightning change of mood, Wendy turned to follow him as he led the way out of the grove and along the path to the beach. Halfway along he veered to the left down a half hidden track which almost at once started to climb.

"This will take us over the headland and into the next bay." Peter explained, passing her a hand of banana's which she munched as she walked.

"Why didn't you build a home over there? Surely it must have been arduous carting all that stuff over to this side."

"I was able to ferry most of it on the outrigger, there's a narrow channel that you can't see unless you're on top of it."

"Oh....so you brought it all around by sea."

"And there were reasons why the cove wasn't suitable....you'll see why."

They walked on in silence for a little way, the path opening out and leaving the trees to wind over the exposed headland and almost to the cliff edge. The view was magnificent, Wendy able to see all of Peter's cove clearly, as well as the start of the mountain range behind them and a long stretch of the coastline in either direction. Breathing deeply she lifted her face to the sun, watching the flashes of white as sea birds hovered and swooped along the cliff edge before dipping down to fish in the sea below.

"This really is a beautiful place Peter...so clean and free."

"And empty...."

Hearing the note of sadness in his voice she impulsively reached for his free hand, curling her fingers around his. "It's not so empty Peter...I'm here....Kirano is here....."

"But for how long?" Peter retorted, looking away from her and out towards the expanse of ocean surrounding them.

Wendy drew in a deep breath and let it out. "I'm not leaving here.....not leaving you Peter...."

"You said you wanted to go home...it's all you do seem to want."

Tugging at his hand she made him turn and face her. "Peter I had no choice about coming here... there was no warning, no preparation. Of course I'm upset about it and worried about my family...they will be worried about me, don't you see? But I....I think now...that I wanted to be here....have always wanted to return to this place...return to you. I just didn't realize how much before now."

"Do you really mean that? You want to be here?"

"Yes...yes I do.....but I still also want to find out what happened...to you and the other creatures and people that used to be here."

Peter was staring at her intently, trying hard to read the truth in her face, in her eyes. "Then let's get moving....the tide will be on the way out when we get there, and at it's lowest, the best time to search for the wreck."

Suddenly flashing a brilliant smile Peter turned and started to walk, Wendy's hand still held tightly in his own.

Slightly stunned and breathless from the force of that smile, Wendy could do no more than follow his lead, a smile lighting her own face as a great weight seemed to lift off her shoulders, her decision made.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: Six - Over and Under and In between

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy was left in no doubt why Peter had chosen the next bay over for his home. As they descended the headland Wendy felt a chill steal over her as the lush jungle rapidly gave way to scrub and spindly trees, their leaves sparse on blasted branches.

"Oh Peter.....this is awful..."

"Now you see why I didn't want to stay here..."

They continued down the slope, the ground beneath their feet changing from the silky, sandy soil of the headland to a gritty powder the colour of grey ash. The contrast between the two pieces of the same coastline was unbelievable unless you remembered that this was Neverland, the island of dreams where anything was possible. At the base of the cliffs they made their way through a forest of black rocks that towered over them, their peaks like daggers pointing at the sky. The beach that opened out after the rocks was covered in grey sand, the waves lapping at the shore sounding like the hiss of sibilant voices, whispering with each ebb and flow.

"I don't like this place...." Wendy whispered, gripping Peter's hand tightly as they progressed to the water's edge. The sun still shone above them but it didn't seem to impart any heat, the looming black cliffs sucking all the light and warmth from the air.

"Imagine how I felt waking up to find myself washed up here!" Peter replied, his voice not a whisper but still hushed.

Looking out over the circle of the bay Wendy could see more black rocks breaking the surface of the sluggish sea, a reef that extended from the end of the headland and stretched out towards open water. Shielding her eyes with her free hand she stared out at the horizon, something moving on top of one of the taller rocks catching her eye.

"Do you see the flag?" Peter asked, noting the direction of her stare.

Wendy squinted harder and stared in disbelief as the flapping blur became a ragged flag.

"There's a ship out there?"

"Yup....I'm assuming it's the one you called the Jolly Roger...unless there was more than one ship sailing these waters."

"Not that I was aware of....goodness it looks to be part of the rocks."

"It is...pretty much...we're lucky there's been no major storms in the past months...apart from what I've stripped from it, it's almost intact, just wedged tight amongst the rocks."

Wendy eyed the expanse of water between the beach and the reef.

"How are we going to reach it?"

"I use a canoe, apparently left by fisherman who trawled the seaweed beds for crabs..."

"Goodness....how do you know that?"

Peter shrugged."Crab shells in the bottom of the boat...a net with seaweed..."

"Oh...of course." Wendy stared at the expanse of water apprehensively, biting her lip. Peter tugged on her hand and led her along the beach to a small outcrop, behind which lay a canoe turned upside down on the gritty sand. Together they righted the boat and carried it to the water's edge. Peter handed her a paddle while he stowed his pack in the bottom of the canoe.

Feeling oppressed by the looming cliffs and dark rocks Wendy rubbed her arms while she waited.

"Climb in, I'll push us out."

Wendy stepped into the boat setting it rocking, seating herself near the front as Peter dug his feet into the beach and pushed the canoe into the water, jumping in behind her as they bobbed over the small waves. Picking up the paddle Wendy looked over her shoulder and Peter indicated for her to take the left side while he paddled the right. Slowly they set out across the bay, leaving the oppressive beach and heading towards the row of rocks laid out like sharp teeth, jagged and black against the blue of the sky.

As the canoe cut through the calm water Wendy glanced down and saw a forest of seaweed swaying with the current just below the surface, the long strappy fronds like hair, undulating with the flow of the water. It looked dark and sinister and Wendy was heartily glad Peter hadn't asked her to swim through it. The little boat continued across the bay until they reached the first of the rocks, the sea swirling around its base, the swell lifting the water up and down the dark edges coated with black mussel shells and grey limpets.

They could now make out the hulk of the ship, canted to one side, its spars and rigging pointing at an angle to the sky like gaunt fingers. Peter steered them closer, only the dip of their paddles and the slap of the waves against the rocks to break the unnatural silence surrounding the wreck. Wendy could see that almost all the canvas had been ripped from the spar's, the ropes hanging in tangled disarray like broken spiders' web.

"Do you see anything you recognize?" Peter's voice coming from behind her made her jump.

"Oh!...er...no...not really...I didn't really see the ship except from the main deck and captains' cabin."

"Then we'll need to get aboard."

Carefully, avoiding the jagged points of rocks appearing and disappearing in the swell, they paddled nearer the hull, Wendy spotting the rope ladder hanging down to the water, the end floating on the surface.

"Is that how you got aboard?" She pointed to the ladder and Peter nodded, manoeuvering their craft to come alongside.

"Climb up and find me a length of rope, I need to tie the canoe to the ladder." Handing over his knife, Peter steadied the boat while Wendy reached for the ladder, the rope slippery and smelling strongly of tar and brine. The hull loomed over their heads like a smooth cliff, the planks stained and dark, coated in black barnacles and tufts of bright green sea weed. Wendy pulled herself up, her feet finding a grip on the old wooden slats of the ladder, each step taking her higher up the side of the ship, Peter, down below, watching her anxiously. Hooking her leg over the side rail, she finally set foot on the deck of the ship. Bending down she found a coil of reasonably thin rope and cut off a length, dropping it over the side to Peter who quickly tied the canoe to the ladder. Within minutes he was clambering over the side of the ship, the pack on his back.

Wendy was picking her way across the wreckage strewn deck, the whole ship tilted at an angle making walking difficult. She was heading for an ornately carved door under the raised deck of the helm. Peter followed, his eyes looking for any sign of changes since he'd last visited.

Wendy reached out a shaking hand to the door, pushing it open and stepping into the short corridor, another door facing her. In her minds eye she remembered Mister Smee opening it for her and the strains of music that drifted out to greet her as she approached. That time the cabin had been full of light from candles and lanterns hanging from the beams and set in elaborate sconces around the room. Now it was shrouded in darkness, the room in chaos with its furniture thrown about and broken. She felt Peter come up behind her and stand at her shoulder, looking in at the carnage.

"This was his cabin....James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger." She told him, her voice devoid of emotion. Peter stepped around Wendy as she stood in the doorway, unable to move as a myriad memories swamped her.

"This was where I found most of the trunks with clothes.....apart from those, I didn't take anything else. I don't know why, but I didn't want to spend much time in here." Peter stepped over a smashed table, it's once shiny top covered in dust and scratches. Wendy remained near the door, her arms wrapped around her body. She could see what appeared to be the remains of Hook's beautifully decorated harpsichord in one corner, canted on its side, the cover gone, the strings rusted and sprung.

Peter was poking around near the huge dining table, its slab top swept clear of the gilt and gold plate that Wendy had last seen on it, the fine Venetian goblets smashed and twisted on the decking below.

"There's some fine cloth here....it'll make great slings and bandages." Peter called out, bundling the material together before turning to pick his way back to her. Almost back to the door he suddenly let out a yelp and bent double, hopping on one foot.

"Dammit..." Leaning down he fished about on the floor looking for whatever he'd stubbed his toe on in the gloom, his fingers closing around something metallic which he held up in triumph only to hear Wendy let out a cry. In his hand he held a wickedly curved implement that shone dully in the dark cabin.

"What the heck is this?" He asked, turning it to and for, testing the point by thumping it down on a piece of wood where it stuck before he pulled it out again.

"It's his...hook." Wendy explained, feeling a little faint.

"What....Hook's hook?" Peter waggled his eyebrows at her, attempting to lighten her somber mood.

"Don't joke Peter....he had no right hand and used metal hooks instead...there was another one.....a double hook he was wearing when the crocodile got him."

Peter swopped the hook from his left to his right hand, slashing it though the air before tucking it into his belt where it glinted dully.

"Come on....lets get the hell out of here...there's nothing we need in this rubbish."

As Peter pushed past her Wendy cast one last look at the room, her eye suddenly caught by a glint from something on the floor. Stepping forward she bent down and brushed her fingers over a small pile of dirt accumulated in one corner by the door. As she cleared the dust a chain appeared, the links so fine it was almost like a thread. Carefully she pinched it between her fingers and pulled, the chain coming free of the planking. It was long and Wendy lifted it until, with a slight resistance it came completely free, something suspended and making the chain swing as Wendy stood upright and held it in front of her face.

"Hey Wendy....look what I found!" Peter's voice made her jump, so intent was her scrutiny of the pendant slowly twirling from her fingers. Not able to see anything clearly in the gloom of the cabin, Wendy lifted the chain and slipped it over her head, the pendant disappearing inside her shirt. Turning on her heel she left the cabin and crossed the corridor to the room opposite.

Peter was peering into a small cupboard half hidden behind a pile of heaped furniture. He was dragging something out and Wendy waited for him to pull it into the center of the room before leaning closer.

"What is it?" She asked, batting her hand in front of her face to clear the cloud of dust swirling in the air.

Peter was clearing a clean patch on the front of the medium sized box, a metal plate dulled by age and dirt clamped across the seam of the lid. Peter was rubbing at an image stamped into the metal and Wendy squinted to try and make out what it was.

"It looks like....a...child...I think." She offered, wetting a finger to clean off more of the dirt. "And there's a name....or initials...." She traced her fingers over the elaborate engraving, trying to make out the letters almost illegible under the scrolls and flourishes. Unable to decipher it, she stepped back. Peter also peered at it but was at a loss to make it out.

"Let's take it with us."

Lifting the box onto his shoulder, he waited for Wendy to lead the way out, following her up the ladder and back to the ruined deck.

Craning her neck, Wendy stared up at the ragged skull and crossbones flag flapping lazily from the top of the mast. Looking down she saw the huge central mast, her mind flooded with memories again. As if in a dream she stepped over and around the littered deck and stood facing the broad wooden column of the main mast. This was where Hook had tied her, her fingers tracing a deep scratch in the wood where his hook had dug into the timber beside her head as he demanded a last story from her. Another long scratch on the side showed where Hook had slashed her bonds, dragging her forward in front of the howling crew before threatening her with the plank. Looking down she saw the hatch where the Lost Boy's and her brothers had sat, bound and crying, surrounded by the motley crew.

"Wendy?"

Peter's concerned voice broke in to her revery, his face swimming into view as she focused once more on the present, the past fading away as she blinked at him.

"Are you alright?" Peter peered at her, noting her far-away look.

"Y-yes...I was just.....he made me walk the plank."

"What?"

"Over there." Wendy pointed to a space in the railing. "He blindfolded me and tied my hands...I had to walk out on this horrible plank with the ship rising and falling and the wood wobbling....I was terrified I'd lose my footing," Wendy laughed, the sound not the least mirthful. "But that was the point....wasn't it?"

"Why was he making you walk the plank?" Peter asked, feeling that Wendy needed to tell someone about her experience.

"He found out that you liked me...because all my stories ended in a kiss. He knew you were still alive, that the poison hadn't worked, so he wanted to destroy anything you'd cared for....me."

"Ah Wendy..." Peter sighed in sympathy, any further comment stopped by her fingers against his lips.

"He thought the crocodile was down below, you see....we heard it ticking, and Hook was deadly scared of the beast so he wanted to appease it by feeding me to it....as well as thwart you."

"What happened?"

"I walked the plank, then he made me turn around before he stomped on the plank making it bounce. I managed to keep my balance the first time, but the second....I fell. I was never so scared in my whole life...I thought I was about to die, eaten by a crocodile at the worst, drowned at the very least."

"But you weren't..." Peter prompted when Wendy paused. A smile suddenly lit up Wendy's face, her eyes focusing on him, sparkling with an emotion Peter hardly had time to analyze before she continued her tale.

"You were there waiting to catch me, just before I hit the water...I could hardly believe it...we all thought you were dead from Hook's poison, then we thought you might have survived, but I never expected you to be there at the ship....but you were....you caught me in your arms and we stayed hidden under the plank while Hook wondered what had happened to me, then Tink lured them to the other side of the ship while you took off my blindfold and cut the ropes...."

"I rescued you.." Peter repeated quietly, almost to himself, trying to imagine himself doing what she described.

"Yes Peter...you rescued me....after that, all we had to do was rescue the Lost Boys and my brothers, fight the pirates, defeat Hook and sail home."

"Oh..that's all we had to do?" Peter raised his eyebrows at her, his expression incredulous.

"But that's another story....." Feeling much better for having told him, Wendy suddenly found the day looking a little brighter, the old ship just a forgotten wreck, the ghosts of Hook and her time there laid to rest for a little while. "Didn't you say you brought breakfast?"

"Um...yeah....you want to eat here?"

"Well it must be nearly dinner time...and I certainly don't want to eat on that horridly gritty beach....how about up there?"

Shaking his head at her sudden change of mood, Peter followed her up the tilted companion way to the poop deck where they perched on a pile of rope, Peter emptying out the various supplies he'd packed.

Sitting watching the seagulls bobbing on the calm sea around the ship Wendy munched happily on a piece of coconut while Peter cut up a melon, passing her a juicy slice.

They were no wiser as to the fate of the crew or the ship or why Peter had been washed up on the beach, but Wendy felt that she had faced an important part of her memory, a part that had fueled nightmares for weeks after her return to London. Having related it all to Peter while standing actually on the deck where it all took place had managed to banish her fears, the reality of her standing on the deck and having Peter beside her relegating the nightmares back to the realm of fantasy, having no power to upset her anymore.

Their meal consumed, Peter led them back to the rope ladder where they descended to the canoe, the box taken from the ship stowed in the middle of the boat before they paddled away.

"Can we go around the other side before we leave?" Wendy asked, still puzzling over the fate of the ship and its crew.

"Of course....there's a break in the reef up ahead, it's deep enough for the canoe to pass through."

They paddled the length of the ship, rounding the prow and negotiating the narrow channel cut into the rocky reef. As they approached the sea-ward side Wendy couldn't help a gasp as they saw the extent of the damage. A gash was cut into the side of the hull almost from stem to stern below the water line, as if someone with a gigantic sword had split the craft open, gutting it. Wendy could see ropes and hammocks hanging down inside as well as water sloshing darkly past the jagged splinters of smashed timbers. Some of the timbers appeared to be pointing outward, suggesting that something had exploded out from the ship, the timbers at the opening blacker than the surrounding planks.

"There must have been an explosion....maybe the powder magazine..." Peter commented staring at the damage with little interest having seen it before.

"Must have been.....can we go home now?"

Happy to leave the depressing sight of the Jolly Rogers' final resting place, Peter steered the canoe past the ship and back towards the beach, the sea still calm around them. They were both silent on the trip back, Wendy lost in her thoughts, Peter intent on getting them back to shore in one piece.

The grating of the shingle under the hull announced their arrival back at the beach, Peter hopping out and holding it still while Wendy clambered out, taking the almost empty pack while Peter hauled the craft up onto the beach before reaching for the box.

After returning the canoe to it usually resting place, Peter and Wendy crossed the gritty beach and passed through the black rock spires, the path rising rapidly as they headed back over the headland. Before they passed beyond its view, Wendy turned around and stared down at the black cove that had been witness to something momentous, its mystery still unsolved.

Peter's warm fingers wrapping around her own, pulling her from her introspection, her eyes meeting his, his lips pulling in to a slow grin that she mirrored with one that set his heart thumping.

"Let's go home."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The box sat forgotten until after their evening meal, the light of the candles casting shadows that hid it from view, dumped as it was on the floor. Wendy had found a pack of well worn playing cards in one of the chests and the evening was filled with laughter as they played a simple game of snap, Peter setting the candles jumping every time he slammed his open hand down on the cards to capture them. Wendy giggled when he found her hand before him, Peter always making sure he held back so as not to squash her fingers, both of them grinning like fools as Wendy's winnings stacked ever higher.

"Aagh you won again!" Peter cried as Wendy swept up the pile of cards and shuffled them into her own, Peter left with only a handful to play on. "I give up....." He threw the remaining cards into the air to land haphazardly on the table, one floating to the floor. Bending down to pick it up he noticed the box and decided that a distraction was needed.

"Hey, why don't we see what's in that box."

"Oh you....you just don't want me to win outright," Wendy remarked, gathering up the fallen cards before returning them to the painted tin that kept them safely together. Putting them aside she watched as Peter lifted the box onto the table, moving it about to shed as much light on the metal plate as possible. Getting up, Wendy collected a cloth and dampened it before coming back to sit beside Peter as he tried to decipher the inscription. Taking the cloth he wiped at the metal, the dirt lifting and leaving behind a shiny, gold coloured metal.

"Oh look....there's a hole in the center.....like a key hole," said Wendy, pointing to the dark indentation, currently filled with dirt.

"I still can't make out what these letters are..." Peter muttered, scrubbing more dirt from the plate.

Wendy traced her finger tip over the scrolls and curlicues, briefly tracing the outline of the childlike figure engraved in the corner. Looking more closely at the letters she pointed to one, "I think...this might be a...P....and this one....it looks the same."

"P...P?"

Wendy almost heard the penny drop in her head. "P..P...Peter Pan!"

"Me?"

"Yes look.....it's hard to make out, but it's definitely two P's...one overlaying the other."

"Why would this be aboard the ship?" Peter queried, lifting the box to shake it, his ear pressed to the side. "There's something loose inside, it's rattling," he informed her replacing it on the table.

Wendy stared at the box, tilting her head to look at its sides. " I wonder if there's a secret latch to open it or something."

They spent the next few minutes turning the box in all directions, pressing the smooth surface as well as the few carvings in an attempt to trigger any secret buttons.

"There's nothing happening....and this plate isn't moving...." Peter reached for his knife, preparing to prise the plate off but Wendy put her hand over his.

"It needs a key...." Suddenly remembering the chain she'd slipped over her head, Wendy lifted it out from her shirt, Peter's eyebrows rising as it appeared, the small pendant glinting in the candlelight.

"Where did you find that?"

"In the crack of a floorboard in the Captains' cabin."

"Why didn't you tell me ?"

"I-I...don't know....I forgot about it."

"Hmmmm...." Using the tip of his knife, Peter picked at the dirt in the small hole. "Funny looking key."

Wendy held the pendant in her hand, the metal still warm from contact with her flesh. It was wafer thin, the edge indented with notches, the surface decorated with swirls and scrolls that echoed those on the box. Lifting the length of chain over her head, Wendy pooled it in the palm of her hand, the key too fragile looking for the purpose intended for it.

Peter finished digging what he could out of the slot before using the cloth to clear what was left. Wendy held out the chain and pendant and he lifted it from her hand. Pinching it between his thumb and first finger Peter pushed it carefully into the lock, the pendant sliding in effortlessly. Having inserted it to the hilt, Peter glanced up at Wendy before twisting the key to the right, surprised when it moved smoothly and evenly with no resistance. After a full turn there was an audible click and the metal plate suddenly parted in the middle, the edges formed and cleverly disguised by one of the letter shapes.

Peter and Wendy exchanged another look, both apprehensive for different reasons.

Peter used his knife to prise the lock wider, the box splitting sideways, creating a seam where one had not been apparent before despite their exhaustive search. Concealed hinges allowed the lid to open upwards, revealing the contents. Both Wendy and Peter leaned closer to see inside.

Peter dipped his hand in and pulled out a roll of paper, the vellum yellowed with age, bound with a red ribbons and wax seal. On the seal was the same intertwined letters pressed into the surface. Laying it to one side, Peter delved further, his fingers closing over a velvet pouch which he tipped up, an ornate locket almost as large as his palm falling out.

"Look at this..." Peter held it out on his flat palm for Wendy to look at, the facia of the locket decorated with seed pearls and diamond chips set in sky-blue enamel surrounding a pretty landscape painting set in the center.

"Oh its beautiful." Wendy breathed, touching the painting lightly with her fingertip. After admiring it, Peter placed it on the table and looked once more into the box. Once more putting his hand in he pulled out a cloth wrapped bundle which contained a much smaller box, one Wendy recognized. "It's a ring box!"

Releasing the tiny catch, Peter opened the box and couldn't help his mouth dropping open. Inside sat a heavily engraved gold ring, the outer edge beveled and faceted. Lifting it from the velvet Peter held it between his thumb and first finger and turned it over to catch the light. On the inside of the ring he could see writing deeply cut into the gold.

"For My Beloved...Forever In My Heart." Peter read out, turning the ring around to see the words before passing it to Wendy, dropping it into her cupped palm.

"What lovely words.." Wendy breathed, admiring the intricate pattern on the rings surface, the engraving seeming to form letters but despite peering at it closely she was unable to make them out.

Peter had picked up the scroll, fiddling with the ribbons and turning it over to peer down the center like a telescope. Putting it down he picked up the locket, turning it over and staring at the back where the entwined 'P's were surrounded by an inscription. Tilting it towards the light he read it out.

"For Our Son On The Occasion Of His Birth....."

Finding a catch on the side, he pressed it and the top popped open. Carefully Peter swung it upwards revealing a another lid, this time clear, in which sat a tiny plait of honey coloured hair that curled at the end, tied off with a blue ribbon. Inside the gold lid, set in a filigree frame was a tiny painting of an infant, its tiny round face staring out of the painting with an expression of pained surprise. Leaning over Peter's shoulder Wendy couldn't help but make a moue of amusement.

"Aw what a pretty baby..." She cooed, smirking at Peter's wry expression. "What's in the other side?"

Turning the locket over, Peter activated the catch on the bottom, the plate springing open, this time to reveal two matching miniature portraits of the infants parents. Staring down at them, Wendy felt a chill sweep over her, the mother's eyes staring up at her as if trying to impart some message. Tearing herself away from the mother, Wendy looked at the father and gasped aloud.

"Oh Peter.....it's you!"

Despite the man wearing clothes that appeared to be from a previous century and the hair being the wrong colour, the older man could have been the mirror image of the younger man sitting next to her holding the locket.

"Who is he.....I don't understand..." Peter whispered, looking up at Wendy for an explanation.

"I-I-I-" Wendy stammered, knowing the truth but not wanting to voice it.

Peter dropped the locket on the table and rose to his feet, backing away from the table. Pointing a finger, he gestured to the jewel sitting discarded on the table top.

"You're going to say they're my parents...aren't you?"

"But Peter......you do look an awful lot like the man, and you have the woman's coloring...would it be so dreadful if they were your parents?"

"Why was that shut away in the box, why was it hidden aboard the ship....what does it mean?"

"I don't know....maybe the parchment will tell us what it's all about."

"NO!...I don't want to know....don't read it!"

"But it will tell us what we need to know..."

"What...what will it tell us....that my parents didn't want me any more? That they gave me away to a-a-a....pirate?"

"You don't know that.....maybe Hook stole the box thinking it was treasure....maybe he found it...you won't know unless you read the scroll!"

Keeping an eye on Peter, Wendy reached for the roll of parchment, fingering the wax seal before pulling it away from the ribbon, the wax breaking and crumbing into pieces. Untying the ribbon Wendy carefully unrolled the vellum, the edges cracking as it flattened out. Peter remained in the middle of the room, torn between the overwhelming urge to throw the paper out the window and an equally strong desire to know what had been written about him.

Bringing one of the candles closer Wendy ran her finger over the elaborate script, deciphering the words written in legal cant.

"It's their combined wills....." Wendy said, her forehead furrowed as she worked to understand the convoluted jargon. "It speaks of a son born to Emilia and Phillip Panferris, the Earl and Countess of Strathvern.....the son was christened Peter James....."

"Peter James..." came a faint echo from behind her.

Wendy heard the whisper but carried on.

"This document outlines the disposition of their combined estates....leaving it in its entirety to their son....a portion of his inheritance to be granted on the occasion of his twenty fifth birthday.....but given the remote possibility of his parents dying before he attained his majority, the boy was to be kept under the wardship of his father's best friend......oh my God...."

"What?"

"The friends name......it's.....James Hook, former Captain in the service of His Majesties Admiralty."

"Captain Hook?....the pirate that tried to kill you....kill me?"

"One and the same..." Wendy read further but the rest of the document just detailed the terms of the property entailment. Letting go of the end Wendy watched it roll up, her fingers playing with the faded satin ribbon.

Peter paced behind her, his thoughts chaotic.

"What happened to them......how did I end up here....and with Hook as a pirate?"

"If Hook had this document I can only assume your parents died and you became Hook's ward....how you ended up here and became Peter Pan....I can't begin to solve that mystery."

"What does it mean to be a ward?"

Wendy pondered that. "I suppose it would mean that he...er...Hook would have control of your inheritance until you reached twenty five..."

"And until then?"

"I don't know exactly...I suppose he would be able to dictate how your inheritance was managed...disposed of...."

"And if I were dead?"

Wendy looked up, aghast. Their eyes met across the room, troubled sea-green and shocked blue.

In a sudden move, Peter darted to the table and scooped up the locket, ring box and key chain, throwing them into the box before cramming the scroll in after them. Slamming the lid Peter hefted the box as if to throw it out the window. In desperation Wendy threw herself in his path, wrapping her arms around him to stop him.

"Don't Peter.....it's important....."

"It's lies....all lies....I-I-I don't remember!"

Dropping the box to the floor, Peter wrapped his arms around Wendy, burying his face in her hair, shaking from head to toe.

Slowly they sank to the wood floor, never letting go of each other.

"Shhhh Peter....it's alright....you will remember....it doesn't matter....shhhhh," Wendy rocked him in her arms, unconsciously copying her Mother when she soothed one of her brothers if they were hurt. She almost wished they'd never found the box, or that she'd never seen the glint of gold with the key attached in the cabin. But they had and she did and now she knew some of Peter's history, even if it did pose an even greater mystery than before.

"We'll find out what happened......I promise, you'll remember and we'll solve this mystery....shhhh" Continuing to rock him, Wendy held onto Peter as he shook against her, her fingers combing his shawn head, stroking him, calming him.

"H-how can we find out? H-hook is dead......my...my parents must be dead.....everyone is...is...dead!"

"I don't know......" Wendy whispered, not at all sure that the mystery could ever be solved if the main participants were unavailable to shed light on the questions raised by the box.

Thinking back to what Peter had told her when they first met, Wendy tried to reconcile that with what she knew.

"Peter.....when we met that time in the nursery....you told me that you heard your parents talking about your future...and...and you didn't like what they were saying...so you ran away to Kensington Gardens and lived with the fairies...."

"I said that?"

"You did....I remember because I thought it was so brave....and so exciting...."

"Where's Kensington Gardens?"

"It's a beautiful park in London....there's lots of trees and pretty paths and fountains..."

"Did you ever go there?"

"Once or twice....my Aunt took us to see the lovely flowers.."

"Did you see any fairies?"

"No....but I didn't know you then...and I didn't know that fairies existed either...so they might have been there and I simply didn't see them."

Peter lifted his head from where it had been nestled against her shoulder at looked Wendy in the eye. "But they do exist....you said so. Here, on Neverland."

"Yes Peter....they most certainly do exist."

"Then why haven't I seen them?"

"Well you've heard them....that bell-like sound is how they talk, so they are still here, but why they haven't been around...I don't know. Maybe they're waiting for you to remember them."

"You think so?"

Wendy nodded, refusing to let any doubt colour her answer.

"I'm sure that you have more influence than you think on what happens in this world, this island.....you just have to believe."

Biting his lip, Peter ducked his head, suddenly embarrassed to be still clinging to Wendy. Dropping his arms he moved away, coming to sit with his legs folded Indian style, his elbows resting on his knees.

Wendy felt his going keenly, her arms already missing him. Tucking her legs up, she wrapped her arms around them instead, her chin resting on her knees as she watched him.

After a long silence, Peter raised his head and looked back at her. "What are we going to do?"

Lifting her head, Wendy canted it to the side. "We could go looking for them. I know that the fairy tree you showed me was very near the Indian village. Maybe if we go there, we'll find the fairies."

"Do you think they'll know what happened....I mean not just now, but when I was.....younger?"

"I think we can try and find them......it can't hurt and maybe it will help you remember."

They lapsed into silence again, the candle starting to gutter before Peter climbed slowly to his feet. Holding out his hand, he helped Wendy to hers, letting go of her hand almost immediately.

"We'll go to the Indian village...it'll take us a day to get there."

Wendy nodded her head, a lump in her throat preventing her from speaking.

Silently they prepared for bed, Wendy slipping into a lace edged man's nightshirt which reached to below her knees while Peter refilled the water barrel before snuffing the last candle, plunging the tree house into darkness. Wendy already lay on the pallet, facing the room, her eyes drawn to window and the dark trees beyond. Shedding his shirt, Peter crawled onto the mattress behind her, the sail cloth rustling as he flopped down face first.

"Peter?"

"Hmmmm."

"Do you ever dream of flying?"

Silence greeted her question, the minutes ticking by until she thought he must have gone to sleep.

"I have dreams about being underwater.....and sometimes I have dreams of running through the jungle....and sometimes I'm swooping through clouds and skimming over the sea, the view impossible unless you're a bird.....and I feel so free and light.....invincible...as if nothing and nobody can catch me."

Shifting over so that she faced him, Wendy reached out a hand and touched his naked back, Peter's head turned away from her.

"You'll fly again Peter....I know you will...."

Lifting his head Peter turned to face her, his teeth gleaming in the darkness as he grinned at her.

"Will you come and fly with me?"

Wendy grinned back at him. "Anytime..."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: Seven - Hunting High and Low
Rating: PG13+ - heavy petting somewhere ahead

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After a quick bath in the hot spring and a leisurely breakfast, Wendy was more than prepared for the trek ahead of them. Peter had found another pack for her to use and she made sure they both had a change of clothes and other necessities while Peter packed the food, both carrying a bladder of water. The weather remained fine, any hint of rain falling during the dark hours, never during the day, which amused Wendy having come from a country where rain was a climatic hazard whatever the time of day. Peter also packed, in his own bag, the locket and ring, leaving the scroll behind because Wendy said it wouldn't take too many more openings to crumble altogether.

Packed and prepared they departed the tree house late in the morning, a chorus of chattering birds following them into the forest, sunlight slanting like fingers through the branches.

Peter had been unusually taciturn all the morning, his expression set. Wendy had felt similarly tongue tied but decided not to press him to tell her what was the matter, she could guess at it anyway.

As Peter led her along a winding track, her thoughts turned to the document that had caused all the trouble. She was no legal expert, having never seen or read someone's will before, but it was clear that Peter was the son and heir to a considerable property somewhere in her world. It was also clear that he had been put under the wardship of James Hook sometime in the past. How they had both ended up in Neverland, arch enemies, was something she hoped they would find the answers to. Breathing deeply she looked around, marveling anew at how beautiful Neverland was in the mornings, the vegetation lush and verdant, the animal life abundant and colourful, the weather equitable and almost predictable.

"Are you tired?" Peter's voice broke in to her preoccupation and she quickly smiled at his look of concern.

"Not a bit....have we much further to go?"

They had been climbing steadily for the last hour, the forest starting to thin as they climbed over a ridge, Peter having explained that the abandoned village was quite a bit further around the coast and it was easier to cut across the island than go along the coast.

"Over this ridge, then across the river, through the swamp and past the plain."

"Gracious....it sounds like we're going around the world with so many different regions."

"Well...none of them are that big.....we could have gone round the cliffs but that way is quite difficult in places."

"hmmmm so you said. So Peter....what sort of animals are we likely to see?"

"Oh lots.....of course there's the goats who live on the plain and along a stretch of the coast....did you know goats eat seaweed?"

"No I didn't...but I suppose it's a plant like any other."

"Now that we're out of the forest we don't have to worry about the wolves any more...."

"Wolves!" Remembering the healing bite on her shoulder, Wendy absently scratched it through her shirt. "You mean they've been with us all this time?"

"I don't think so.....I killed one of their pack, they won't want to risk attacking me knowing I can kill them...wolves are quite clever like that."

"You almost sound proud of them?"

"Do I? Not really.....I respect them."

Wendy shivered, glad to have left the creatures far behind. "Are there other dangerous animals here?"

"Oh I imagine there are....." He saw a look of alarm cross Wendy's expressive face. "But I haven't seen any....not recently."

"Well that's a relief.....oh, but what about the crocodile? You said you heard ticking, so it must have come near you at some time."

"I've seen tracks....he must be big because he certainly cuts a swathe when he moves about, but I haven't actually seen him....only heard him."

"Was it anywhere near where we're going?"

Seeing her face pale Peter hurried to reassure her. "No...no, not even close....I was on the other side of the mountain when I heard the noise you say is a clock inside the beast...so there's nothing to fear here."

"Oh good....I was worried...." Wendy broke off when the screech of a monkey filled the air, the cry taken up by others in its troop until the trees rang with their alarm cries.

"Now what's got them all upset?" Peter stared up at the trees, seeing the monkeys swarming in the canopy, heading away from where they were standing. As the noise of the apes died away both Wendy and Peter strained to hear what could have alarmed the creatures. Faintly, carried on a breeze that seemed to be strengthening came the unmistakable hollow sound of a ticking clock.

At once Wendy and Peter turned to stare at each other, almost at the same moment a loud crash sounded from further down the hill, galvanizing Peter into action. Grabbing Wendy's hand he yanked her around and started running, veering off at right angles and starting down the flank of the ridge heading for the denser tree line. Wendy had no time to voice her fear, her attention all on keeping her footing and sucking air into her lungs as they continued at a pell-mell pace down the hill. A roaring sound suddenly erupted behind them and Wendy almost screamed, Peter's hand pulling her onwards over the ground, a vibration warning them that something huge was directly behind them.

Peter was heading towards a dense grove of forest, his eyes assessing the height and climb ability of the trees even as he leapt over a fallen log. A yank on his arm alerted him to Wendy's fall as she lost her footing and tripped over the log. Scooping her up with one hand about her waist, Peter hauled her upright and once more picked up the pace. Behind them birds were screaming in alarm, flocks rising up from the bushes and trees as the huge predator barged through, intent on the prey fleeing before it.

Peter and Wendy reached the base of a huge oak, its trunk quite the broadest that Wendy had ever seen. Giving her no time to catch her breath Peter boosted her into the lower branches, scrambling up behind her and pushing her ever upwards. With as much speed as she could muster, Wendy climbed and climbed, scraping her hands on the rough bark, her feet scrabbling for purchase as Peter urged her on. She didn't dare look behind her as the sound of their pursuer came closer, the tree trembling with the weight of its tread on the ground.

Sobbing in fear Wendy followed Peter up the tree until they were near the apex of the canopy, the ground lost to view, screened by the dense branches. All around them rose the chorus of alarm, the monkeys adding their screeches to the cries of the birds as they flew in agitation around their nests, the monkeys already leaping to the next tree and safety.

"Hold onto the branch and don't let go!" Peter shouted above the racket, pulling Wendy's arms forward to hug one of the branches before following suit. It was only just in time as the tree suddenly shook violently as something rammed it. This time Wendy did scream, her face pressed to the bark as her teeth rattled with another shake of the tree, the beast below thwarted of its prey, determined to shake it loose from its safe perch.

Three more times the preternaturally large reptile thrashed against the sturdy oak, its tail sending shudders to the tips of its branches, the crocodiles mouth opening to emit a roar that sent the hair on her neck to stand straight up.

"Make it go away!" Wendy sobbed, her eyes squeezed tight shut as the tree seemed to shudder, the creature below determined to shake them loose.

Opening her eyes she saw that the branch Peter had been clinging to was empty, a shaft of pure terror making her gasp before she screamed again, the tree swaying from another attack.

"PETER!"

Leaning over she tried to see down the tree, thinking that Peter must have fallen, her wide eyes trying to see past the enveloping greenery to the ground below. Seeing nothing, she tried to release her fingers from the branch but her body refused to comply, her muscles frozen in place. Sobbing, she called again but still heard nothing but the roaring below and the cry of the birds above. Abruptly the sound below stopped, the tree shivering to a halt from the last blow, Wendy still feeling the tremors in her limbs despite the tree being perfectly still.

"Oh please, please let him be safe....please, please..."

After several long minutes where neither the tree moved or any sound came from below Wendy managed to release her death grip on the branch, her muscles screaming for her to move, her breath leaving her lips in harsh gasps. Willing herself to climb she started down the tree, her breathing sounding unnaturally loud in the silence, even the birds alarm calls no longer sounding, the monkeys long gone. Inch by terrifying inch she backed down the tree, desperately trying to see the ground from her high perch. Every few feet she would pause and call for Peter, hearing nothing in reply before she started her descent again. Panic started to choke her as the branches started to thin, her first view of the ground, still many feet below, enough to make her freeze again. The huge crocodile lay still, almost wrapped around the trunk of the oak, its massive tail drawn back as if to land another mighty blow on the bark, splinters of wood already showing where the beast had whipped the tree in the pursuit of its prey. Now the creature lay quiet, the body supine as if asleep, only the faint sound of ticking coming from inside armor clad body. Even as she listened the ticking seemed to slow down, as if the spring inside the clock was finally coming to the end of its life, the ticking becoming erratic until it stopped altogether, the silence almost as nerve-wracking as the sound had been before. Looking down the length of the creature, she noted that the sides were not moving, that it didn't appear to be breathing. Taking heart, she climbed a little lower, the leaves parting to give her a clear view of the trampled ground around the tree.

As her gaze traveled to the beasts' head she felt her heart leap into her throat. Buried up to its hilt in the beasts' skull was Peter's knife, the handle the only thing visible, a trickle of fluid oozing around the wound. Further along the snout Wendy could see something gleaming and almost fainted at the sight of the metal hook buried in the creatures eye socket. The crocodiles other eye was still open but appeared glazed over, the orb black and blind to life.

With the beast laid out below there was almost nowhere for her to get down without stepping on the creatures scaly skin. Restraining the urge to give in to a fit of hysterics, Wendy gingerly climbed down the last few feet, her bare toes recoiling from the touch of reptilian skin as she dropped onto the crocodiles back, rapidly scrambling to the earth and prepared to take flight if it stirred.

Frozen on the spot she waited for any sign that the creature was still alive, her breaths coming short and sharp as she fought to keep the fear at bay. Finally she convinced herself that it was truly dead and her focus instantly turned to Peter.

"Peter...where are you?"

Calling she circled the tree, keeping as far from the dead crocodile as possible. Crushed under the end of its tail she found his pack and goatskin, the bladder burst and the pack flattened, oozing juice from the fruit within. Swallowing hard Wendy searched further, calling all the time but hearing nothing in return.

Widening her search she approached a thicket, the branches broken and flattened, her eyes suddenly seeing something white in its heart. Pushing the branches aside she suddenly saw him, his head thrown back, his limbs lax as he hung suspended in the branches of the bush, blood staining the shirt in many places.

"Oh God.....no please don't let him be dead..."

Shucking her own pack, Wendy scrambled through the thicket to reach Peter's side, her fingers reaching out to touch his face to assure herself he still lived. Finding his skin warm to the touch she let out a gasping sob, hooking her hands under his shoulders and dragging him out of the bush to lay on the mossy ground. Peter's eyes were tight shut, his lips parted as he breathed shallowly, Wendy's hand over his heart confirming a strong beat which went a long way to calming her fears.

"Peter...Peter what did you do? You foolish, brave, silly boy....oh please wake up....please..."

Cradling his head in her lap, she used the corner of her shirt to wipe the blood from his cheek and corner of his mouth, the lip split and his chin cut. None of his other wounds appeared to be still bleeding so she left them alone and prayed for him to wake up. She shuddered to think of the huge beast mere feet away from them, her panic rising at the thought that it might still come back to life, Wendy quite unable to lift Peter to safety if it did.

"Please, please wake up....we have to get away from here..."

As if hearing her pleas Peter let out a moan, his muscles tensing seconds before his lashes fluttered and he shot upright, eyes wide as he stared around him. Gasping, his head turning violently from left to right, he tried to rise only to collapse back again after giving a hoarse cry, his eyes rolling up in his head before he hit the ground, Wendy doing her best to cushion his fall with her arms and body.

Finding him once more insensible, she tried to wake him by tapping his cheek and calling his name. Getting no response she lay him back on the ground before scrabbling to her feet to collect her pack and water skin.

Dampening a cloth she wiped it over his face, begging him to come back to her even as she worked, the cool liquid reviving him so that his eyes opened and he stared up into her worried face, blinking slowly.

"W-W-endy?"

"I'm here....oh Peter..what happened.....I thought you were dead....."

Swallowing on a dry throat he tried to speak but could only croak. Tipping up the skin Wendy trickled some water into his mouth before recapping it. Peter tried again.

"The crocodile.....dead?"

"Yes you brave fool.....it's quite dead, with your knife in its brain and Hook's hook in its eye."

"It worked then.....I was right."

"Right? What were you right about......why didn't you stay up the tree with me....why did you leave me ? I was sure you'd been killed."

"It wanted....the hook.....so I gave it to it..."

"The hook?"

"Because of its former owner....I guess." Staring up at her he suddenly grinned. "Hey Wendy.......I flew......"

Shocked, she stared down at him, not sure she heard him right."You what?"

Lifting his arms he made a motion like something zooming through the air. "I flew....it tossed me off it's back and I flew through the air....just like you said...only the landing was a little rough."

Unable to help herself Wendy laughed at his self-satisfied smirk.

"Oh you foolish boy....that wasn't flying...that was falling with style."

Wendy giggled again and Peter joined her, a rumbling chuckle rising until it jolted a bruise and he stopped abruptly, gasping in pain. Wendy was instantly contrite, asking him where it hurt and chiding him when he said, "everywhere!"

Helping him to his feet, Wendy offered her shoulder to support him, the pair of them making their slow way back to the carcass for Peter to inspect.

"It came after the hook, don't you see..." Peter explained, pointing to the gold appendage still lodged in the reptiles eye socket. Wendy shuddered, avoiding looking at the gory sight, her attention all on keeping him upright.

"We have to get away from here Peter.......there'll be scavengers coming soon to investigate and we need to find cover for the night."

"Not before I get my knife....and that hook....and a souvenir!"

Ignoring her protests, Peter did just that, pulling the hook from its bloody wound before climbing on the creatures head and tugging his knife out, the blade pulling out with a sickeningly wet sound. Wendy felt faintly nauseous and busied herself with getting her pack back on before going to the tail to see what could be salvaged from Peter's.

After cleaning the blades on leaves and moss, Peter tucked them both into his belt before joining her. "Reckon this will make a fearsome trophy, don't you think?"

Wendy looked up to find a bloody tooth held in front of her face. In disgust she batted his hand away and turned her back before she gagged. Slightly offended by her lack of enthusiasm, Peter tucked the large tooth into his belt beside the hook, determined to fashion it into a necklace at the first opportunity.

By dint of much heaving and tugging they managed to free Peter's pack and water skin from under the crocodiles heavy tail, the fruit inside the pack emptied out as it was all squashed and useless for eating.

Suddenly a howling sound rose in the distance and Peter's head shot up, suddenly alert.

"We have to go now.....they're on their way."

"Who?" Wendy asked as Peter grabbed her hand and started to hustle her away from the cadaver.

"The wolves....this will make a great feast for the predators of Neverland....it is time we left them to it."

Shuddering in disgust, Wendy followed Peter away from the huge oak that had sheltered them, the body of the giant crocodile curled around the trunk, now just a meal for the hungry beasts of the forest.

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They managed to cover quite a distance before the sun forced them to call a halt, Peter limping as they dumped their packs in the lee of an earthen bank, the roots of a long dead tree forming a natural cave to shelter them. Wendy gathered firewood while Peter created a fireplace, the dry tinder catching easily as he struck the flint, sparks setting the grass alight and flaring quickly into a roaring flame. With the fire burning steadily, they emptied their supplies. As they'd walked they'd collected anything edible they could find along the trail, the resulting meal made up of nuts, berries and other assorted fruits along with some mushrooms which Wendy thought looked a little suspect, but Peter assured her were fine to eat. Some of the meal they ate raw, but the nuts they roasted in the embers and the mushrooms were cooked on the ends of sticks. They had passed a clear stream not far from their present camp and Wendy went there to refill the empty skin, leaving Peter to oversee their meal. Despite his bravado she was well aware that he was in a deal of pain, what little she'd seen pointing to a fine collection of bruises as well as cuts and scrapes.

When she returned to the fire their meal was ready, Peter passing her a flat rock to use for a plate, the nuts already cracked and ready to eat, the mushrooms black and juicy.

They ate in silence, wrapped up in their thoughts, too tired to go over the days events. With the meal eaten, Wendy gathered fern fronds to make a soft bed at the back of the root-formed cave, a breeze keeping the smoke from invading the shallow shelter. Peter tried to help her but she waved him back, aware that his injuries were making him stiff as he struggled to rise.

"Just rest....I'll be back in a tick."

Armed with bundles of fragrant green leaves she plumped them into a makeshift bed then helped Peter to lay down, his face drawn with tiredness and discomfort. Almost at once his eyes closed and he drifted into sleep, Wendy left to bank the fire and collect what remained of their meal and wrap it for the next day. After taking care of her ablutions, she stowed the packs inside the shelter before laying down herself, facing the fire and watching it burn down. Peter snored softly behind her, his arm coming up to drape over her waist in what was becoming a familiar sleeping position, his nose buried against the back of her neck. Warm and comfortable, Wendy felt her eyes droop shut and gave herself up to sleep, Peter a warm weight against her back.

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Wendy was dreaming, her body twitching in sleep as she wandered the realm of unreality, recent events creating a chaotic mix of bizarre imagery.

In her dream she was walking along a beach, her clothes drifting around her like a cloud, the gossamer thin layers swirling around her like seaweed, ebbing and flowing as she walked. She looked out to sea and thought she saw something in the water. shading her eyes she saw someone struggling, their arm raised to signal for help. She tried to call but nothing came out of her mouth. Frustrated, she ran to the water's edge and tried to enter the sea but found an invisible barrier stopping her. As she stood horrified, she saw that the person in the water was Peter, his face barely keeping above the surface, his eyes imploring her to help him. Beating her fists against the invisible barrier she tried to shout to him, but nothing came out and she watched him struggle, helpless to aid him. Eventually he sank below the water and didn't reappear. Wendy became panicked, scratching at the barrier between them, her hands sore from banging against it with her fists. Suddenly the barrier disappeared and she almost fell on her face, just catching herself in time. Running forward she found the water frozen solid, the waves caught in mid-break. Despite the cold she jumped over the low waves and ran to where she'd last seen Peter. Looking down at the frozen sea she could see his body below, his face upturned to the surface, his mouth open as if still calling to her. In despair she knelt on the sea and beat her fists against the solid surface, making as little impression on that as she had on the other barrier. Tears started to flow as she sobbed in grief, one tear dripping down to land on the hard surface. Instantly it melted, pitching her into the water, the cold making her gasp. Hands seemed to tangle in her skirts and she fought them, her lungs bursting as she strove to reach the air but the hands kept pulling her further underwater until she released the breath she was holding and water rushed in to fill her lungs. As she gulped, she found herself staring through the water at Peter, his hair grown back and floating round his head like a corona, his eyes a green as emeralds, his lips blue and pulled back in a grimace. Suddenly he spoke and she started, hearing his voice for the first time.

"You were supposed to rescue me....save me......help me...but you didn't and I died..."

"I tried to reach you...." Wendy tried to explain, reaching out for him but he floated out of reach.

"You didn't come in time...and I died...died..died...died....."

With a violent jerk and a gasping sob Wendy woke up, her body trembling in reaction to the nightmare, her hands covering her face as she cried inconsolably.

Peter had been roused by her cry and now pulled her over to wrap her in his arm, rocking her as she continued to sob noisily against his shoulder. The fire was only a few glowing embers in the pre-dawn light, the sun not yet risen. A few birds twittered in the gloom, barely awake themselves as Peter continued to rock her, his hands stroking soothing patterns on her back as she shuddered and wept, his shirt becoming soaked with her tears.

As she showed no signs of stopping, Peter tried a different tack, his hands coming up to push the hair from her face, his lips brushing against her forehead as he murmured soothing words against her heated skin. Her eyes tight shut, Wendy didn't stop him as he kissed her temples then her wet lashes, the tears salty on his lips as he lapped and kissed them from her eyes and cheeks. Her lips were still trembling with the force of her crying when he closed his lips over hers, sucking the tender flesh and drawing them in one at a time between his own, stilling their trembling and stealing her breath until he felt her start to kiss him back, her arms stealing up to wrap around his shoulders, her eyes now lightly closed as she surrendered to the comfort of his embrace. Clasping her closer Peter deepened the kiss, his tongue begging entrance and being welcomed, her own stroking and teasing him until he felt fire start to burn in his limbs, his nerve endings sparking and firing with life as he pressed her softness ever closer, her curves fitting against him like she was part of him.

Wendy wanted to absorb him into her skin, to meld her heart with his so they would never be separate, but one body, one mind, one heart forever. Peter hands were stroking her down her back and sides, his thumbs brushing ever closer to her aching breasts that were crushed against the hard wall of his chest. Pulling back a little she allowed his wandering hands to follow their natural progress and gravitate to the front of her shirt, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the hard points of her nipples bringing an unbearable sweetness to the kiss that seemed to want to never end.

Frustrated in his quest to touch her, Peter burrowed under the edge of her shirt, his fingers dancing up her ribs to find the warmth of her breasts, the nipples hard against his palm as he fondled the firm flesh, a moan from Wendy spurring him on to lift the shirt higher, Peter rolling them over to free her other breast for his exploration. The kiss had become messy with each trying to devour the other, lips and tongues tangling in a dance destined for only one conclusion. Releasing her mouth, Peter nibbled and kissed his way down her neck, Wendy arching against him, his fingers still stroking her breasts, his mouth descending further until his hot lips closed around one hard nipple, a shard of sensations instantly melting Wendy's insides until she whimpered and tossed her head. Peter continued to plunder her chest, alternating his attention from one taut peak to the other, his hands never still as his mouth suckled and kissed, his fingers finally heading to the waistband of her breeches in a quest for what lay below.

Finally coming to her senses Wendy grasped his wrist, wrapping her fingers around his hand to stop him, her skin flushing with a hot blush as she opened her eyes and found herself exposed to both the morning sun and Peter's gaze. Oblivious to his partner's change of heart, Peter continued to wrap his tongue around her nipple, his hands leaving the front of her trousers to reach around and squeeze the globes of her bottom instead.

At this Wendy squeaked and pushed him away, he tried to follow but found his lips barred from her flesh by her cotton shirt, her legs scrabbling to push her away from his side as he reached for her.

"Wendy? Where are you going?"

"I-I-I.....er....I have to go take care of....er...something."

Not bothering to explain further, Wendy marched purposefully around the fire and disappeared into the trees, her shaking hands busily tucking her shirt back in to her trousers.

Belatedly realizing that his attempt to comfort her might have gone a little further than planned, Peter thumped the dirt with his fist, consumed with a mixture of frustrated ardor and guilt. Throwing himself onto his back he groaned out loud, the pain from his scrapes and bruises finally dragging his attention away from his taut body and thumping heart. He ached all over, from his head to his toes and everywhere in-between, the in-between having nothing to do with his battle of the day before and everything to do with how close he'd just been to Wendy.

Groaning again he covered his eyes with his arm and tried to will his body to soften and relax. After several long minutes of thinking about anything cold and everything horrible to tame his wayward body he finally regained some control, his heart beating at its normal rate, his skin no longer twitching with awareness. Satisfied that he was not about to embarrass himself, Peter dropped his arms and rolled onto his side. Wendy was sitting by the fire feeding bits of twigs to the embers watching the baby flames lick at the dry wood before flaring into life, putting larger and larger branches into the flames as the fire rekindled. Her concentration was all on the fire, her eyes smudged with tiredness as she stared at the sparks rising into the morning air.

Levering himself upright Peter held one arm around his middle to mitigate the sharp pain that lanced down his side making him wince. Carefully he got onto one knee, his breath hissing between his teeth. Gathering himself for the next effort he almost jumped out of his skin when Wendy's hand closed around his arm, her other snaking about his back to support him. With her help he was able to rise, his limbs protesting every movement as he limped over to the fire and sat down again. Still not speaking Wendy unpacked the meal from the night before and handed him a share, sitting across from him and eating her own food without looking at him.

"Er....Wendy?"

Lifting her head she met his eyes, her lips pressed tightly together.

"I was....um....only trying to.....comfort you?"

"I know Peter...it just went..."

"Too far....I know....I'm sorry."

Wendy looked down again, fiddling with the core of an apple she was half-heartedly consuming. Heaving a sigh she raised her face once more and fixed him with a look.

"I just don't feel...." Wendy started, Peter feeling his heart start to slow down, dreading what she was about to say. "I just feel....I'm not ready for all this......for all these feelings. I mean, the kissing is nice and I like sleeping with you...but I...." She floundered, her hands waving in the air.

"But?"

"We're not married!" She finally blurted out, turning quite pink before dropping her eyes back to the fire.

Peter's eyebrows climbed to his hairline before dropping to frown in perplexity. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I asked my Mother once what the words trollop and whore meant." Wendy smiled wryly to herself. "I think I shocked her badly. You see I heard one of the coal men describe a girl with those names and I wanted to know what they meant. After I explained Mother told me that they were the names used for women who slept with men without being married to them, sometimes receiving money or goods in exchange for their...er...favors."

Peter was still having difficulty understand what she was trying to explain, his brow still furrowed.

"I'm not a trollop Peter.....neither am I a whore. I won't....do that with you, not now...not ever."

"Not even if we get married?"

"W-wh-at?"

"Well if you were to marry me....you wouldn't be a trollop or a whore...you'd be..."

"Your wife."

"Er....yeah....my wife. That would make me your husband, wouldn't it?"

"Well....yes."

"Then we could sleep together and kiss and......do that other stuff as well."

"Um...I suppose so."

Peter's brow finally cleared and he sent her a wide grin. "That's easy then.....we'll get married."

"But Peter.....we can't!"

"Why not?"

"Well....there's no church here on Neverland...no priest."

"Do you have to have those to be married?"

Wendy felt herself foundering. "Well not always...there is a registry wedding by special license. You don't need a church or a priest for that but you do need a justice of the peace to make it legal."

"But what if the people that want to get married aren't anywhere near a place with a church, priest or a whatchamacallit available?"

"I-I-I don't know."

"There must be a way for people to get married if there's no-one around who can do it."

"I had heard that Captain's on ships can marry people."

"Well that's no help....the only one on this island is dead!"

Bristling as his derisive tone, Wendy frowned across the fire at him.

"Well who said I wanted to marry you anyway?"

"Don't you want to marry me?" Peter asked, staring at her disbelieving.

"I haven't said I would and I haven't said that I wouldn't....the only thing I have said is I won't....do that....with you because we aren't married."

Peter stared at her for a second, unable to decipher her last statement, completely confused by the conversation as a whole. Shaking his head he absently poked a stick at the fire, sending sparks into the air.

"Well if you don't want to do....that, and you don't want to marry me so we can...do that...what's the point of you being here?"

Recognizing the pout for what it was, Wendy rolled her eyes and clambered to her feet. "Oh really, you boys are all the same...if you can't have what you want...you sulk!"

"I'm not sulking!"

"Oh yes you are....I know a sulk when I see one, and you are unequivocally sulking."

"So what....you're just a stupid......trollop!"

Outraged, Wendy could only gape at him before turning on her heel and march, shoulders stiff with affront, out of the clearing and out of his sight. Wishing the words back Peter dropped his head in his hands and sighed gustily, wincing when the move caused one of his bruises to remind him of its presence in no uncertain terms.

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Chapter: Eight - There and Back
Rating: PG13

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Wendy returned to their makeshift camp after she had calmed herself down with a dunk of her head in an ice cold stream and an internal dressing down for being such an idiot as to think herself in love with a boorish oaf like Peter Pan. For however long it took to solve the riddle of his parents and his memory Wendy was going to have to keep her distance, both physically and emotionally. It was clear that if she allowed him the slightest leeway he'd take that as permission to take everything, her heart, her body and her soul.

His ignorance, while endearing, was part of the problem. Emotionally he was still the boy she'd left in Neverland, curious, noble and self-serving, he was also kind, almost foolishly brave and quite possibly the love of her life. His notion that they marry merely to satisfy his curiosity about physical intimacy was an issue she felt woefully inadequate to address.

Wendy admitted, but only to herself, that she was just as curious, his kisses creating a desire in her that she was almost afraid to acknowledge, so intense the sensations. But in the end, when he had his memory back, when they had solved the mystery of James Hook and Peter's history, what then? Was she to choose a life on Neverland with him, to forget about her family back in London? Or would she, could she, return to the life she'd left behind and grow up without him?

She had told him she wouldn't leave him, Kirano had told her to listen to her heart, her body tempted her to let him take her ultimate prize, but her head, her head reminded her that Peter had only wanted to remain a boy and never grow up. Hook had said that growing up was a barbarous business and Wendy was starting to agree with the deceased pirate. She had never felt so muddled or torn in different directions, not helped by her bodies wayward reactions, apparently helpless to resist Peters' ample attractions.

But resist him she must, if only for her own sanity.

Denying the clamoring of her body and heart, Wendy decided that until things became clearer, she would have to keep her distance from Peter.

Her mind made up she pushed her wet hair from her face, tucking it behind her ears before drawing in a deep breath. Mentally girding her loins she entered the clearing to see Peter still sitting by the fire as she'd left him but with the packs beside him, apparently ready to go.

"How much further to the Indian village?" She asked, her eyes on the fire.

"A full day as we'll be going slower." Getting to his feet, Peter couldn't stop a grimace crossing his face.

"We could wait another day if you're in too much pain."

Peter shook his head. "I'll be fine...it's just a little sore."

As he reached down for the pack, Wendy darted forward and snatched it out of his reach, swinging it onto one shoulder before gathering the water skins and slinging them over the other. "I'll carry these, they don't weigh very much. Your one is empty after all."

"Wendy.....about what I said..."

Already turning to leave Wendy twisted her head around. "Don't Peter...it's not important."

"But..."

"We have a long way to go..."

Wincing at her cold tone Peter started to kick dirt over the fire, dousing the flames. Wendy had already turned away, flicking her wet hair over her shoulder as she waited for him. Shaking his head he sighed and walked over to her, the fire put out.

Passing her he set out down the track, Wendy's footfalls behind him.

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Peter hated being at outs with Wendy, her silence, like a whip, flayed his nerves until he wanted to stop and shake her to make her talk.

That it was his fault they were incommunicado was little comfort, as he had no idea how to set everything right again. It had seemed to make sense to him that if they were married then there would be no need for them not to be together in every sense of the word. But apparently there was more to it than just saying the words, it required a ceremony and someone in authority, requirements that Neverland simply didn't have, at least not in the way that Wendy explained it.

Life had suddenly got a whole lot more complicated.

As the morning progressed to afternoon they crested the ridge and were starting down the other side when Peter drew to a halt on a ledge that gave them a view over the area of coastline that had supported the small Indian village.

"You did say the place had been deserted....didn't you?" Wendy asked, arching a brow as Peter stared in confusion at the multiple columns of smoke rising from the forest below.

"It was.....there was nothing there!"

"Well it would appear that someone has returned."

Shooting her a fulminating look, Peter swung away and headed down the slope, Wendy close behind.

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They needed the rest of the afternoon to reach the outskirts of the village, Peter still nursing his injuries and Wendy loaded down with the packs and water skins. They had eaten their lunch as they walked, not wanting to waste time making a fire, the fruit snatched from handy bushes along the trail. Still munching on a hand of bananas, Wendy tossed the remains away when Peter signaled her to crouch down.

"We're nearly there....I want to scout ahead before we go any further."

"But if it's the Indian's they're your friends Peter."

"We're only assuming it's the same Piccaninny tribe that you knew before...maybe its a whole new bunch.....either way I'm not taking any chances."

"And what do you want me to do while your scouting?"

"Stay hidden......I'll come back if it's all clear."

"And what do I do if you don't come back?" Wendy had risen to her feet and stood in the center of the trail with her hands on her hip.

"What?" Peter had also risen, the Indian's forgotten for the moment.

"You heard me." Tossing her head she tilted her chin. "I'm coming with you."

Peter gaped at her. "You hardly speak to me all day and now you want to argue with me?"

"I don't want to be left behind."

"I wasn't going to leave you behind...I was going to come back for you."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "And I said...."

"Do all girls argue all the time, or is it just something special to you?"

All her best intentions of keeping her distance flew out of the window as she stepped toe to toe with Peter, their faces only inches apart, hers perforce tilted up to his, oblivious to their surroundings.

"Whoever is camped at the site now, we can investigate together."

"It might not be safe!"

As he stared down at her, his temper rising, he still had to marvel at her spirit, her eyes flashing up at him like twin stars. So absorbed in his admiration he didn't notice the figures moving stealthily towards them, Peter and Wendy surrounded before they even noticed their approach.

"Seri pas nichasa."

The deep male voice made Peter jerk his head up in alarm, the sound of bow strings pulled back making him reach for his knife only to have his arms seized and pulled behind his back before his fingers got close. Wendy had whirled around and stood with her back to him, facing the man who'd spoken.

They were surrounded by armed and painted redskins, their bows notched and ready to fly, their leader standing slightly in front of his braves, regarding the young people with an enigmatic expression.

"Seri pas nichasa?" The man spoke again, the words foreign to both Wendy and Peter's understanding.

Despite being bound and held by two braves, Peter tilted his chin and addressed the man. "Is this how you greet travelers? We mean you no harm."

"Then why do you sneak up on our village....although if you were, you were making a poor hand of it. The youngest girl-child in our camp could have done better."

Wendy gaped at the man, his English perfect with only a trace of an accent. Shutting her mouth hurriedly she glanced back at Peter before speaking.

"Please......we only came here to see who had moved into the village. It had been empty for so long we were.....curious."

The leader gave her a perplexed look, exchanging glances with his braves before bursting out laughing, the braves joining him.

"You must be touched by the sun. Our village has been here more moons than I've been alive, or even my Father's Father has been alive. We have never gone anywhere but here."

Wendy exchanged a surprised look with Peter. "But Peter said...."

"Peter?" The man interrupted her. "Where is this Peter?"

"I am Peter.....Peter Pan."

The brave stepped closer, brushing Wendy to one side to peer into Peter's face, searching his features as Peter stood his ground.

"You cannot be the Pan....he is..." The man indicated the height of a child with his hand. "And you are big."

"So I've been told....but I am Peter Pan."

Narrowing his eyes, the man stared at him, brown meeting green in a clash of wills. Abruptly turning away the leader signaled and Peter found himself free, his hands absently rubbing at his wrists to ease the rope burn.

"Come....you must meet our Chief and the Elders....they will want to speak with you."

Not waiting for an answer, the man signaled his braves to lower their weapons before surrounding Peter and Wendy and starting back along the trail with them at the center of the hunting party.

Wendy had been largely ignored, separated from Peter by the broad backs of the braves walking in front of her, their faces carefully inscrutable. As they walked along the trail Wendy glanced at the proud faces around her but recognized none of them, their eyes avoiding hers, none of them so much as brushing against her.

Perplexed she trudged along behind them, unable to see much beyond the wall of copper skin surrounding her. Her nose twitched when the smell of campfires filled the air, the noise of many people starting to filter through the trees as they thinned until they were suddenly standing at the edge of a substantial camp, tall tepee's positioned at even intervals all over the large circular grounds, a broad avenue splitting the camp in two down which the hunting party marched with their captives.

Wendy stared around her, peering between the bodies that marched beside her seeing her stare returned by the women and children of the tribe, the crowd starting to trail behind the braves as they traversed the wide path between the tents. Voices washed over them, some calling to members of the hunting party who lifted hands to wave or answered back in their own language. When they finally halted a sizable crowd of Indian's surrounded them, the voices dying down until they all stood in silence. The leader of the hunting party stepped forward and entered a large, ornately decorated tepee, decorative spears on either side of the doorway holding back the flap of the opening. Almost at once he reappeared and stepped to the side to allow free passage to another man who stooped as he left the tepee, before straightening up. His head was crowned with an ornate feather bonnet which draped down his back almost to the ground, a large fur hide covering his shoulders like a cloak and secured with a bone broach at the front. In his hand he held a heavily carved staff taller than himself, the top and bottom surrounded by shell beads which rattled loudly when he thumped the ground for silence.

"Who are these strangers that you bring amongst us?"

The leader bowed to his chief and turned, pointing to Peter.

"This one claims to be called Peter Pan....the other is of no importance."

Wendy, still partially hidden behind the wall of redskins let go an outraged gasp, dark eyes turning to frown as she opened her mouth to retort only to have a large red hand clamp over her lips to silence her.

Ignoring the slight scuffle behind him, Peter lifted his chin and stared back at the chief, meeting the brown eyes fearlessly.

"I am Peter Pan."

The Chief stepped forward, his braves parting before him until the man stood in front of Peter, his dark eyes traveling over the young man from the top of his head to his dusty toes.

"I know of Peter Pan....and you are not he."

At a wave of the Chief's hand Peter once more found himself held tightly from behind, his struggles useless against the brawny braves.

"I am Peter Pan......I just got.....big."

The Chief smiled at that, his eyes narrowing at he flicked a glance at the boy struggling to free himself.

"If you are Peter Pan.....then fly....crow.....these are things that Peter Pan would do without a second thought."

"I can't." Peter ground out.

"Then you are not Peter Pan....you are just an ordinary boy. Take them away."

Turning his back on the captives the Chief quickly returned to the tepee and ducked inside. Instantly the crowd burst into a babble of voices, conjecturing on who the strangers were while the captives found themselves bundled away, Peter bound hand and foot and Wendy still held tightly to prevent her crying out. They were taken to a small tepee near the back of the camp, the hide held to the ground by many wooden stakes to prevent anyone slipping under the edge while the single entrance was small and guarded by two braves. Peter and Wendy were pushed into the small tent after being stripped of the packs and Peter's weapons, including the golden hook. They both sprawled on the pile of skins against one wall, Peter narrowly missing the central pole before hitting the ground, unable to prevent his fall with his hands bound. As the braves left they shut the flap, plunging the tent into semi gloom, the only light coming from the smoke hole at the top of the tepee. Quickly righting herself, Wendy scrambled over to Peter and started to work on the knots of the thongs binding his hands, Peter laying still while she worked. Once free he went to the entrance flap and pulled it back only to have a large hand appear and push him back with such force he stumbled and fell back against the central pole with a yell, the flap closing once more. As he made to get up Wendy grabbed his arm to prevent him throwing himself at the tent flap.

"Peter, there's nothing you can do!"

Shaking off her hand he clenched his fist and thumped the dirt floor before throwing himself to the side, his face like thunder. Brushing herself off Wendy settled herself on the opposite side of the tent and crossed her legs Indian style.

Outside they could hear the murmur of voices as people went about their business, the laughter of children and barking of dogs punctuated with the chatter of women as they passed. Occasionally someone would stop and speak to the guards outside the tent and Wendy would listen intently but they spoke in their own language which she couldn't understand. Peter lay on the pile of skins to the side, his face covered by his arm, his head turned to the tent wall.

After a long stretch of silence Wendy looked up from her contemplation of the dirt floor and stared across at Peter.

"What are they going to do with us?"

"I don't know."

Another silence stretched the tension further between them. This time Peter was the one to break it.

"Did you recognize any of them from the time before?"

"I don't think so.....I only spent a very little time in the Indian camp before and really only met Tiger Lily."

"Did you see her out there?"

"No."

Again they lapsed into silence, Peter not moving from his position on the skins, Wendy several feet away, the gulf between them widening with each minute.

Both of them jumped when the tent flap suddenly opened admitting a frowning brave followed by a woman bearing a tray.

The brave stood to one side, his arms crossed and a wicked tomahawk in one fist, watching the captives closely. The woman knelt down and placed the tray on the ground, lifting off the jug and crude mugs as well as a plate holding what looked like flat bread and slices of meat.

The meal laid out, the woman rose gracefully to her feet, the tray tucked under her arm. All the time she'd kept her head bent but just before she turned to go she lifted her head and stared directly at Wendy, her brown eyes full of curiosity, then widening in recognition, her lips parting as if to speak. Before she could the brave ushered her out leaving Wendy to stare after them, Peter having not moved an inch since the flap opened. Once alone he rolled over and sat up, one leg bent as he stared at the food and drink left for them. Wendy was still staring after the Indians, her brain trying to work out where she'd seen the woman before.

"At least they don't intend to starve us." Peter remarked, reaching for a piece of the bread and wrapping it around several slices of the meat.

"I think I know that woman....I think...I think it might have been Tiger Lily."

Peter was already chewing on a mouthful of food and spoke around it.

"Why didn't you say something then?"

"She looked as if she was going to speak but that brave hustled her out before she could."

"Hmmmm..."

"What are we going to do Peter?"

His only reply was to shrug, still occupied with the food left for them. Wendy glared at him, baffled and confused by his strange mood.

"I don't understand......I wish Kirano was here, he might have some idea of what to do next."

"I'm not sure I can do much, dear lady." Kirano's voice coming from beside her made Wendy jump so violently she screamed, twisting around to find the pint-sized savage sitting calmly beside her as if he'd always been there. Peter was sitting staring over at the man, his hand half way to his mouth, his eyes wide.

"How did you do that?" Peter barked, replacing the food on the plate.

"Wendy called....I came." The dark skinned man replied, shrugging indifferently as he reached for a handful of the food.

"Goodness you frightened me half to death." Wendy gasped, her hand pressed to her chest to still her hammering heart.

"So sorry dear lady....it is in the nature of surprises....to surprise."

"Yes....well, as you say." Wendy murmured, her pulse slowing down at last.

"Now....you want to ask me something?" Kirano raised a dark eyebrow inquiringly, his mouth working as he chewed.

"Well yes.....the Indians don't believe that Peter....is Peter."

"Don't they? How unfortunate. Did you tell them he was the Pan?"

"Of course...but they remember Peter as a child and as he can't fly, or crow or do any of the things he used to, they don't believe him."

"I see.....that is a problem." Kirano turned to face Peter, who had listened to Wendy's explanation of their predicament with a frown marring his forehead. "And what of you, young man? Has none of your memory returned?"

"Nothing worth noting...certainly nothing to tell me how I'm supposed to fly and crow and stuff." Peter replied, his eyes dropping to the ground. "I did find out I can fight with a sword."

"That's a start, I suppose." Kirano wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "And how are things progressing between you two?"

Both of the young people beside him suddenly found something else to look at other than each other, their faces rosy with blushes.

"Hmmmmm I see...." Kirano tipped up the jug and poured himself a drink, appearing to mull the problem over as he sipped.

"While you are at odds with each other there is little likelihood that anything will be sorted out regarding your memory. You both need to be working together, not pulling apart."

Staring down at his feet Peter mumbled something which neither Wendy nor Kirano could make out.

"Speak up Peter....what was that?" Kirano prodded, leaning forward.

"She won't marry me."

"Oh really Peter, this is hardly the place...." Wendy started only to have Kirano raise his hand to interrupt her.

"Why won't Wendy marry you Peter?"

Still staring at his feet Peter mumbled again, Wendy rolling her eyes but keeping her mouth shut when Kirano raised his hand.

"Wendy won't marry you because...?"

"I called her a....trollop."

"And is that the only reason?"

This brought Peter's head up, his eyes frowning at both Wendy and Kirano. "She said she was too young...and that there was no-one to marry us even if she wanted to...which she doesn't."

Turning his head Kirano raised an eyebrow to Wendy.

Blushing furiously, Wendy opened her mouth but found the words strangled in her throat. Closing her eyes she counted to ten silently then took a deep breath.

"What Peter said is true.....we had an argument and I decided we would not suit."

"Then I have failed. There is nothing more I can do....." Lifting his hands in defeat, Kirano rose up onto his feet. "It is time for Wendy to return to whence she came...."

"What?" "NO!" Wendy and Peter cried out at the same time, both shocked at Kirano's pronouncement. The little man looked consideringly at them both, seeing the truth in their eyes and the conflict in their hearts.

"Then I will give you another chance to resolve this....more than just your futures are dependant on the return of your memory, Peter Pan. And more than your virtue is at stake if you choose to leave now, Wendy Darling."

Despite the man's small stature, he projected an aura of stern authority which both young people respected, even if they didn't entirely understand why.

"I don't want to leave." Wendy whispered, her face hidden behind the curtain of her hair. "But I don't want to get married either...at least not right now..I need some time."

"I'm sorry I called you a trollop.....you're not, you know. And if you don't want to marry me....that's okay too. I understand."

"Do you Peter?"

"No....but I won't press my unwanted attentions on you. At least not unless you want me to."

Glancing up at him, Wendy saw his lips curved into a smile as he stared down at his hands, peeping up briefly to see if she was looking his way. Seeing her blue gaze fixed on his, his lips pulled further apart, her own mirroring his until they sat staring at each other, grinning like fools.

Forgotten, Kirano smiled to himself before fading away, his presence no more substantial than mist until nothing remained but his memory.

Glancing to the left Wendy suddenly realized that Kirano was gone, her eyes darting around the tent before coming to rest once more on Peter.

"How does he do that?"

Peter only shrugged, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the place Kirano had sat. Seeing something, he rose to his feet and started inspecting the tent wall, his fingers finding a long slit cut into the skin. Peeping through he saw the edge of the camp only a few feet way. Careful to replace the edges of the cut so that it appeared invisible, Peter turned back to Wendy and sat beside her.

Putting his mouth close to her ear he spoke. "We'll leave tonight...do you think you can find the fairy tree from here?"

Shivering from the feel of his warm breath against her skin, Wendy could just manage a nod before turning to face him. Finding herself so close to Peter, she blinked at him, noting that his hair was starting to grow out, the short stubble starting to curl against his scalp. Unable to prevent herself she reached up and ran her hair over his head, the short strands like silk against her finger tips.

Suddenly realizing that she was stroking his head, his lips pulled into a smirk, she snatched her hand back and turned away from him, resisting the urge by clenching her hands in her lap.

"That was nice....why did you stop?"

"I-I...promised myself I wouldn't get so close to you."

"Because I called you that name?"

"Y-yes, and because I think we're not ready for.....this."

"Wendy?"

"Yes."

"I really want to kiss you right now."

Startled, she turned to face him again, her eyes wide. Leaning forward just enough Peter pressed his warm lips to hers, his eyes sliding shut as did hers. It was soft and sweet and unbearable short, Peter pulling away, his eyes opening to see that hers were still closed, dark lashes laying softly against her cheek. Smiling he leant forward again and kissed her again, Wendy adding her own pressure to the kiss, her head tilting to change the angle as, by unspoken agreement, the kiss deepened, lips parting to allow tongues to tangle.

The tent, Indian village and Neverland all faded away as the world narrowed down to just the two of them, their senses attuned to each other in harmony, their lips sealed one to the other, Peters' hands cradling her face, her own at the back of his head and neck, both unwilling to break the contact for more that a few seconds before resuming.

Somehow, without ending the kiss, they ended up laying side by side on the bed of skins, Wendy's' arms wound about his shoulders while his fingers threaded through her hair, holding her head gently as his mouth explored hers. Pulling away he stared down at her with hooded eyes, drinking in her swollen mouth, her cheeks flushed with colour, her eyes blinking sleepily up at him.

"Why don't you want to marry me?"

"Because I'm scared." Wendy replied with inate honesty.

"Of me?" Peter asked, his heart thumping as he waited for her reply.

"No....not really. I think I'm more scared of myself and the way you make me feel."

"Does this scare you?" Peter asked, lowering his head to press light kisses against her mouth, the corner of her lips, her nose then her cheek. Wendy had closed her eyes, submitting to his teasing caresses, her lips pulling into shy smile. When he stopped she opened her eyes and stared up at him.

"No....that doesn't scare me."

"Good."

Bending his head he resumed his teasing kisses, Wendy returning the pressure with nips and kisses of her own. So caught up in their own world they failed to notice the flap of the tepee lift and the man enter, his face changing from serious concern to wry amusement, his presence ignored by the young people at his feet. Exchanging an amused glance with the brave that had entered with him, the man cleared his throat loudly, his eyes staring up at the sides of the tent.

Peter heard him and froze, his eyes popping open to find Wendy staring up at him in alarm, her gaze going past his shoulder, a blush suffusing her face as she noticed their audience.

"Peter......get up!" Wendy hissed, pushing at him and struggling to get up herself.

Clambering to their feet, Wendy tried to bring some order to her disheveled hair, while Peter positioned himself just in front of her, protectively.

The tall man regarded the wary couple with an amused glint in his eye.

"For captives that have no idea of their fate, you seem remarkably calm."

Wendy was gripping Peter's hand behind his back, her fingers trembling in his.

"Have you come to tell us?" Peter asked, refusing to give in to his own fears for himself and Wendy.

"I am here to inform you that the elders are meeting tonight to decided what to do with you. It seems there is someone here that has recognized one of you, confirming that what you say is the truth."

Wendy's fingers suddenly squeezed his, Peter realizing she was thinking of the woman, Tiger Lily.

"Then why are we still being kept under guard?"

"For your own safety.....the meeting tonight will decide the truth."

"Are we not to be allowed to speak?" Wendy interrupted, stepping up to stand beside Peter's shoulder.

"What could you add? You are prejudiced, he is your man."

"I would tell the truth of what I know." Wendy replied indignantly.

"You would not be believed."

"I don't lie...how dare you say I do."

"Whether you lie...or not, is irrelevant. Your fate will be decided tonight."

Before Wendy could voice another protest, Peter squeezed her hand asking her wordlessly to remain silent. Fuming, she did so.

"There will be guards posted outside this tent, so do not attempt to escape, it will not aid your cause."

Not waiting for a reply the man turned on his heel and left, the braves following him out, closing the flap behind him.

Putting his finger to his lips Peter indicated for Wendy to remain silent while he crept to the flap and lifted it just enough to peep outside. It was growing dark and he watched the man walk across the camp, leaving two brawny braves to stand either side of the entrance, their arms crossed over their bare chests.

Releasing the flap, Peter returned to where Wendy stood, the gloom of the tent almost impenetrable, only her pale face and white shirt easily visible within the tent.

"When its full dark we'll make our escape." He told her, keeping his voice pitched low.

"What if they've posted someone to guard the back of the tent?"

"Then we'll fight our way out....don't worry Wendy...we're not going to wait to find out what they decided, we'll decide our own fate."

"Oh Peter..." Crossing the short distance between them, Wendy threw her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his shoulder, Peter quickly wrapping his own arms around her and holding her close, all their previous enmity forgiven and forgotten.

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Wendy awoke with Peter's lips brushing her ear as he whispered to her.

"Time to wake up sleepyhead."

Rubbing her eyes she stared into the darkness of the tepee, her body tense with expectation. Peter was rising to his feet behind her, his hand groping for, and finding hers in the darkness, pulling her to her feet to stand beside him. Together they approached the tent flap and carefully peered out, the dark bulk of the two guards readily visible against the flare of the fire burning between them. Replacing the flap they snuck across the dirt floor to the opposite wall, Peter opening the cut slit, sticking out his head to check for another guard. Finding the way clear he passed through the gap, holding it open for Wendy to climb through before grabbing her hand and crouching low, both of them crossing the bare ground until they reached the shelter of the sparse trees, the soft ground deadening their footfalls as they ran through the forest. Out of sight of the Indian camp, Peter and Wendy paused in their flight, Peter holding Wendy close to his side as they fought to regain their breath. Wendy was trembling with fear and excitement, her hand pressed against Peter chest, his heart thumping against his ribs under his shirt.

"Do you recognize anything here?" Peter asked in a whisper, Wendy turning her head to look at their surroundings, trying hard to remember what it had looked like when Peter had lured her away to watch the fairies.

"There was a large grove of elephant ear ferns, you were hiding among them." Wendy told him, her breathing still labored.

"Then we'll need to circle the camp until we find it...come on, don't let go and keep low."

Staying within the deep shadows of the forest, they moved stealthily under the trees, the few fires still burning within the Indian camp casting little light beyond the tepees but providing a point of reference as they edged their way around the edge of the village. At one point a dog barked and Peter pulled Wendy to the ground in the deep shadow of a tree, Wendy pressed close to him as they waited for the alarm to be raised. Their luck held and the dog found itself told to be quiet, nobody bothering to investigate what had caused it to bark in the first place. With the village once more quiet they resumed their search, Wendy exclaiming when they found themselves amongst the very plants they'd been searching for, the huge leaves brushing against them as they waded through the mini-forest.

Turning her back on the camp Wendy tried to pierce the darkness and find the path that lead towards the fairy tree, remembering that Peter had flown her there, rather than walk across the forest floor. As she searched the darkness she spotted a pin-point of light in the distance. Peter also saw it and squeezed her hand. Silently they pushed through the large leaves until they stood within the circle of a grove of tall trunks, the bark covered in moss that hung down like hair. Staring up and around they searched for the light they'd seen. As if conjured from the air a tiny light appeared above their heads, flitting about way up in the branches, never still but darting back and forth, a trail of fairy dust twinkling behind it as it danced in the darkness.

Peter stared upwards with his mouth agape, his eyes following the darting light, hardly believing what his eyes were seeing.

"I didn't dare believe that they existed.." He breathed, his eyes tracking the darting creature as it floated down towards them.

"Didn't I tell you, you only had to believe...." Wendy replied, her arm lifting as if to touch the fey creature that fluttered still beyond their reach, the air glowing with fairy dust that cascaded down onto the pair watching below.

Slowly the fairy descended to where they waited, her wings beating rapidly as she circled above the couple, her movements jerky with suspicion and alarm. Keeping herself out of their reach the sprite started to speak, her voice reaching Peter and Wendy as a series of tinkling bells interspersed with ringing chimes that seemed to indicate the fairy was expecting them to answer her.

Peter felt something tickle the back of his mind, the chimes and bell-like sounds teasing his senses, the sounds forming words in his mind until he felt his lips forming the words, speaking them aloud.

"What are you doing here?"

Surprised, Wendy turned to Peter and stared at him. "Why do you ask that?"

"Not me.....her." He pointed to the fairy.

"You understand it?"

"I-I..er...think so."

"Peter..that's wonderful...you remember!"

"I'm not sure....I hear the sounds,and then words form in my head..."

The fairy was hovering just out of reach directly above them, listening to their conversation. When Peter paused she chimed again, bobbing up and down in her excitement.

"She's asking who I am?" Peter told Wendy when she looked to him to translate.

"Tell her Peter." Wendy urged, excitement coloring her voice.

Drawing in a steadying breath, Peter turned back to face the fairy. "I am Peter....Peter Pan."

As soon as the name left his lips the fairy darted down directly into his face, her wings brushing against his skin as she darted around his head her hands touching his skin, his shoulders and head becoming coated in fairy dust until he appeared to glow, Wendy stepping away from him as the fairy wove strange patterns in the air around him, Peter laughing as the fairy tickled him with her wings.

As she stepped back a hand suddenly clamped itself over her mouth, her body pulled back against a hard chest by an iron arm. "Don't make a sound m'dear...we wouldn't want to spoil the lads moment, would we?"

Squirming helplessly against the hard arm dragging her backwards, Wendy could only watch as her world turned black, the hand over her nose and mouth suffocating her until she slumped in her captors' arms, insensible.

Unaware of the struggle taking place a stones throw from his side, Peter stood enthralled as the golden fairy continued to dance around him, her voice sing-songing around him as she bombarded him with questions of where he'd been hiding all the time, why he hadn't been to see them in such a long time, all fired at him in a bell chime that he heard in his head as words. Opening his mouth he allowed some of the dust to soak onto his tongue, his skin instantly tingling when he swallowed, a warmth pooling in his stomach, spreading outward to encompass his arms and legs until he felt as light as air, his arms coming up to spread out from his body, his head falling back on his neck, eyes closed.

Peter had felt nothing like this since he'd awoken cold and shivering on a black beach, the closest he could equate with the warmth flowing through him was when he kissed Wendy. Twirling on the spot he spun around, feeling something well up inside him, bursting to break free, his heart fit to burst with something bright. A chime from the fairy snapped his eyes open and he shouted in surprise to find himself floating high up among trees, the tendrils of moss floating in an unseen wind around him as he rose, his body as light as a feather. Looking down the ground appeared far below, lost in the darkness and shadows, his view distorted by the golden glow surrounding him. Another chime from the fairy drew his attention back to her, her body darting so fast about his head she appeared a blur, her fairy dust spiraling around him, soaking into his shirt and trousers, changing them from cotton and fine wool into skeleton leaves and soft kid leather that molded to his flesh like a second skin.

The fairy finally stopped her hectic flight, hovering in front of his face, her hands reaching out to him, a smile splitting her tiny face.

"Welcome back.....Peter Pan."

Filling his lungs Peter suddenly let go a loud crow, the sound echoing around the forest sending birds flapping from their nests, animals scurrying from their burrows in alarm, head's popping out of the serene ocean lapping along Mermaid Bay, their gleaming eyes exchanging knowing glances before diving back under the water.

With a surge of power Peter jack knifed his body and dove through the air, twisting and turning as he refamiliarised himself with the sensation of flying, the fairy keeping up with him as he corkscrewed through the air, tumbling and somersaulting, pinwheeling up and down and around the tree trunks, oblivious to the fact that they were almost invisible in the darkness.

"I'M FLYING!" He cried out into the night, putting on a burst of speed that returned him to where he'd started. Touching down lightly he spun around, expecting to see Wendy waiting for him. Instead he was greeted by several copper skinned bodies rising from among the leaves, their painted faces regarding him in awe as he stood, legs apart, elbows bent, his fists resting on his hips, an arrogant tilt to his head.

As he stood there the glade rapidly filled with more of the Indians, those in front kneeling on the ground as others formed up in ranks behind them until the entire village, braves, women and children were all around him, their faces pressed to the earth in abeyance to the Pan standing before them.

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Chapter: Nine - What Was Old is New Again.

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Wendy opened her eyes to darkness, blinking not helping as she strained to see something, anything. Her hands were tied behind her back, her feet also bound. By stretching out her legs, her bare toes made contact with a rough wooden wall, her fingers finding more planking beneath her when she rolled onto her back. Rolling onto her other side brought her up against another wall, the rough wood scraping her face before she recoiled. The air smelt musty, no waft of fresh air finding a way into her prison, no chink of light between the planking. With difficulty she wriggled herself around and used her hands to inch her way up the wall, her fingers bloody by the time she managed to lever herself upright. Panting she tried to get on her knees but found that above her head was a low roof, barely enough room for her to sit up, let alone stand up. Her mind filled in the blanks and concluded that she was in a box, panic spiking in her belly as she opened her mouth and screamed, deafening herself in the confined space. Almost at once she heard a scuffle and the roof of her prison suddenly lifted off, flooding the box with light, making her shut her eyes against the glare.

"Tut tut m'dear...so much noise from such a little girl."

Hard hands gripped her under the arms and hauled her out of the plank box, dropping her onto a rock floor where she lay blinking to clear her vision. A man holding a lamp stood over her, crouching down to peer at his captive. Blinded by the lamp, Wendy could only lay on her side and squint up at him, noting his gleaming boots only inches from her head. The rest of him was clothed in midnight blue velvet embroidered with silver thread. His face was in shadow but she could see that he had a head of dark hair that hung past his shoulders in heavy waves. Swallowing she looked at the hand holding up the lantern, noting it to be the man's right hand, meaning that the person she thought it was, wasn't.

"I think it's safe enough to release you now."

A flash of a blade near her face made her flinch, her hands suddenly free, pins and needles making her grit her teeth as circulation returned to her extremities.

"Who are you? Why have you kidnapped me?"

"Oh I think kidnapped is a bit of a strong word....let's just say I thought it was time I did a bit of reconnaissance, found out the lay of the land, so to speak."

"Who are you?"

"Well I would have thought that was obvious, Miss Darling....." The man left the lantern beside her and stepped back apace. Extending one leg he swept her an elaborate bow, his right hand almost sweeping the ground before he lifted his head to stare right at her, the lantern illuminating his face from beneath.

"NO.....you're dead!" Wendy's eyes widened fearfully as she beheld the familiar features of one Captain James Hook, formerly of the Jolly Roger.

"Captain Hook at your service fair Wendy." He flexed his right hand, staring at it and smiling before turning back to her. "And all in one piece, as you can see."

"But how?"

"How am I alive? How did I get my hand returned?"

Wendy could only nod, her voice strangled in her throat.

"Well my girl, that's part of the reason I have you here....to explain what the hell is going on in this accursed place!"

Reaching down, Hook grabbed Wendy's shirt front, hauling her upright and bringing her face close to his, his fist twisting the material and making her choke.

"So Wendy Darling.....how is it that I find you back here on the island, and, might I say, so grown up?"

Wrapping her hands around his wrist, Wendy fought to free herself, black spots starting to dance in her vision as his choke hold tightened. Just as she thought she'd pass out he abruptly let go, Wendy staggering and falling to her knees, her head dropping to the ground, almost resting on his booted feet.

Gasping she put a hand to her throat while she scuttled, crab-like, across the floor and away from him. Hook followed until he had her bailed up in a corner of the cave room, her head hitting the wall and making her wince.

"Speak up girl! How long have I been.....dead?"

"I don't know......I don't know how you can be alive, let alone how long dead."

"Don't play dumb with me....something brought me back from hell, and I'm suspecting that you had something to do with it....you and that flying spawn of the devil, Peter Pan."

Shaking her head, Wendy could only stare up at Hook mutely as he leaned over her, his booted foot striking out and catching her in her side, sending her sprawling again. Hook stared down at her as she fought for air, her arms wrapped around her ribs.

Snorting with disgust he turned his back on her and marched over to the other side of the cave, throwing himself into a chair placed beside a table, both appearing to be relics from his destroyed cabin.

Breathing shallowly to ease the pain, Wendy leaned against the chill rock and stared across the room at her tormenter.

The man was unmistakably Hook, but somehow he was whole again, and looked years younger than when she'd known him, the lines of his face not as deep, his bitterness not so evident in his expression. And he still had his hand, the one Peter had cut off and thrown to the crocodile, only the crocodile was dead now and Hook was still alive.

Hook stared broodingly at the cave wall, his mind turning over what he knew.

He'd awoken back to life, naked and alone in a cave, the sound of the sea booming faintly at the end of a long tunnel. It had been dark and he'd groped his way along the slimy passageway towards the circle of daylight. The entrance of the cave was already flooded with the incoming tide and he had to swim, buffeted by the waves until he was clear of the cliff face. His initial confusion had deepened when he realized he had two hands to use, his right now looking as hale and hearty as his left, both flexible, both strong. His body felt young again with no stiffness or pain, his hair as black as midnight with no hint of grey in the strands. Treading water he stared back at the entrance to the cave that had birthed him, the black rocks rising up like jagged teeth. Turning he saw a reef and struck out towards it, realizing as he got closer that a ship lay wrecked across the rocky spine. With long tendrils of seaweed threatening to drag him into the depths, Hook swam around the wreck until he saw the ladder hanging down.

Nimbly he scramble up and onto the deck to stand dripping amongst the debris of his ship. Shivering he made his way to his old cabin, the door hanging off its hinges when he pulled it open, his eyes sweeping over the remains of his cabin with a mixture of regret at the loss of so many beautiful items and anger at whoever had caused the carnage.

Rummaging produced several suits of clothes, one of which he quickly donned, the habit of dressing feeling strange now he had two hands to help himself. Finding his boots proved harder but not impossible and soon he was feeling more the thing, being warm, dry and dressed as he should be. Arming himself proved the next task, the case with his swords missing from the cabin, despite a lengthy search. Infuriated he left the cabin and made his way to the armory, snatching a cutlass and scabbard from the collection and strapping it about his hips before doing anything else. He also took a brace of pistols, plus ball and powder before returning up and onto the main deck.

Breathing deeply, he stared around him, noting the lack of any bodies or skeletons, his crew having apparently abandoned ship, leaving the Jolly Roger to the mercy of the sea. A glance over the seaward side confirmed that the ship was never going to float again, her belly split open to the sea, gutted and dead in the water. Turning away from the rail he marched to the landward side, staring at the grey beach only a decent swim's reach away. Looking at the surface of the water he could see the oily strands of seaweed barely below the water and surmised that anyone foolish enough to try would be dragged down and drowned by the tangling arms of the weed before they got further than a length from the ship. What he needed was a boat.

Making his way up to the poopdeck, he peered over the stern of the ship and grinned. Hanging halfway down, tangled in a mess of ropes, was the small painter used to ferry goods to and from the dock. Cutting it free, he lowered it to the sea and rowed himself to the shore, the boat grating on the gritty sand as he pulled it above the high tide line.

Standing with his left hand resting on his sword hilt, Hook surveyed Neverland with a jaundiced eye. He remembered his last encounter with Peter Pan, remembered the desperation as he tried to remain aloft, the crocodile leaping almost its length out of the ocean, its jaws wide in anticipation. The last thing he remembered was seeing Pan sweep his sword down in a final, damning signal, his despair as the children chanted him to his death - old, alone, done for. And then he was, the jaws of the beast closing around him with crushing force, darkness blinding him as he died inside the creature, done for, forever.

But now, without explanation or good reason, here he was again, reborn, renewed, no longer old, no longer done for, still alone but then when had he ever not been alone.

Squaring his shoulders and brushing off his lapels, James Hook set off in search of whatever lay in wait for him, his purpose unclear and his resources insubstantial but his desire burning bright - to find Peter Pan and end the brats' existence once and for all.

Now he sat brooding in a cave, staring at the means to his nemesis end, Wendy Darling, Peter Pan's Achilles heel, Hooks for the taking, like candy from a baby.

He had been shadowing the Indian encampment ever since he'd found it, sure that at some stage Peter Pan would visit his redskin friends and his patience had been rewarded. He'd watched their arrival the day before through his telescope, laughing to see them incarcerated, surprised to see that the brat and his lady love were no longer children but several years older, Peter almost as tall as himself, and Wendy - well she had grown into quite a delectable morsel. How easily he'd been able to pluck her from his side, the stupid boy so intent upon his fairy flummery he'd lost his lady to a pirate, without even noticing.

Hook laughed out loud at the ease with which he had snatched her away, holding out his two hands and flexing them, loving the feel of the muscles and tendons as he fisted his hands then spread them out wide. This time he'd win, this time it would be Peter who would be bested, who would be beaten and cowed. He might even cut off a hand, or a foot to remind the brat of the moment, an unforgettable reminder, a scar that would make him repulsive to the women that used to flock around him, make him a creature of darkness, to hide away from, to scare people away.

All of this Hook would bring him, all of that would Hook wish upon his fair head.

"And you, fair Wendy, will be the instrument of his downfall."

Hearing her name drew Wendy out of her haze, her eyes flicking to the man in the chair, her lips pressed together to prevent a cry of pain and fear passing them.

"What do you want with me?"

"What do I want? Why child......I want Peter Pan at my feet, I want him cowed and beaten.....I want him.....dead!"

"No...." Wendy's moan as she turned her head away infuriated Hook. He pushed himself out of the chair and marched over to her, crouching down and reaching for her face, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him. Her wide blue eye stared up at him, Hook feeling a rush of satisfaction to see fear staring back at him.

"What I want, m'dear, is for your beloved Peter Pan to come and rescue you...which I'm sure as eggs is eggs, he will do." Still gripping her chin he turned her face from side to side, noting the way her mouth trembled in fear but her eyes spat defiance. "You certainly have grown into a bonny baggage, I wonder if the Pan has even noticed what he has under his nose. Has he kissed you again, I wonder?"

"That's none of your business!" Wendy tried to wrench her face out of his fingers but found herself held tight.

"So he has. Has he gone further I wonder."

Unable to control her bodies reactions, Wendy blushed under Hook's knowing look, the man's eyebrow climbing as he felt the heat in her skin. "I see, rash youth, always too eager, they never appreciate taking their time."

Without warning Hook tilted Wendy's head back, his own coming down as he fastened his mouth over her, his hard lips grinding against hers in a savage kiss that left her breathless and shaking when he finally released her. Drawing back Hook stared at her lips for a second before rising up to tower over her, his hands resting on his hips.

"Let us hope the impetuous youth doesn't come for you too quickly, I think I'll enjoy having you as my captive for a little while yet."

Angry at herself for not resisting more, Wendy raised her arm and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, glaring daggers at Hook as he laughed and returned to sit in the chair, one long leg draped over the arm.

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Peter stared at the bowed backs of the redskins searching for, but finding no sign of Wendy. Relaxing his arms he approached the nearest brave and tapped him on the shoulder. When the man raised his head Peter spoke to him, unknowingly in his native language.

"Where is the girl who was with me?"

"She is gone."

"Gone?"

"When we came in search of you, we saw her taken by the spirit."

Others were starting to look up, listening to Peter and the brave.

"She was taken that way." One woman pointed off into the darkness, others nodding their agreement.

Peter felt a spike of fear twist his gut, his joy at rediscovering his memory destroyed by anxiety for Wendy. Above his head hovered the fairy that had restored him, her chimes ringing in his ears.

"What do you mean I'm too weak to go against him? Who are you talking about?" Peter had turned his back on the Indians and was striding through the ferns, the fairy bobbing in front of his face.

"You cannot face him yet....there is still much you must do." It chimed, batting at him with her wings to stop him.

"I don't understand!" Peter growled, stopping when the fairy flew into his face.

"That is why you must stop.....first you must restore us to our number."

"Restore you?"

"I am all that is left of the fairy population.....if you do not restore us, we will cease to exist all together."

"How do I do that?"

"You just have to believe."

"But....." As he spoke a memory of holding a tiny body in his cupped hands jumped into his head. "Tinkerbell." Peter breathed.

"Yes....yes, remember she that you brought back....now you must do the same for us."

"But....all I did....." Peter stared at the tiny sprite as she nodded her head vigorously. "All I said......was.....I do believe in fairies."

As the words dropped from his lips a tiny flicker of light sparked into life, growing quickly into another sprite who danced around his head.

"I do believe in fairies." Peter said again, and again a light sparked into being, the two joined by a third. Understanding what he had to do, Peter turned back to where the Indian's were gathered.

"I do believe in fairies, I do, I do.....I do believe in fairies, I do, I do...." As he chanted the brave he'd spoken to started to say the same phrase, quickly joined by others until the entire forest rang with the sound of their voices, all chanting as Peter, each completion of the chant bringing forth a pinprick of light that in turn evolved into another fairy. Very quickly the air above their heads was filled with a multitude of sprites in every colour and hue, their light making the clearing as bright as day, darting and swirling in spirals of colour, ever higher among the trees, sprinkling fairy dust on everything and turning it golden.

Abruptly Peter signaled and the grove fell silent, only the musical chimes of the fairies filling the sudden quiet as Peter walked into the center of their throng, his body glowing with a golden light as fairy after fairy approached to touch him.

As the Indian's watched in awe, Peter spread his arms wide and rose into the air, clothed from head to foot in gold, the fairies fluttering around him as he rose, swirling in a spiral, Peter at its center. As the throng rose individual fairies started to dart off is all directions, fluttering off into the darkness like sparks, weaving and dodging until they disappeared into the night. Those left continued to spiral ever upwards, leaving Peter behind until they disappeared from sight, Peter floating back to the ground and the Indian's waiting patiently.

He lifted his head and stood once more, arms akimbo, facing the redskins.

At some hidden signal the people all stood, the Chief pushing his way to the front.

"We did not recognize you as the Pan. We are sorry we treated you badly."

"That is not important Chief.....what is important is finding out who or what has taken my Wendy. I've sent the fairies to search where they can, but I think you know something."

"We only know what you have already heard. The spirit took her off into the trees."

"What is this spirit...what form does it take?"

"It is the form of the man who is dead......was dead."

"Are you saying.....no, I have no idea what you are saying."

"Pan....the man who was dead, who appeared as a spirit and took your woman....is Hook."

Peter stared at the chief in disbelief. "How can this be?"

The Chief spread his hands wide. "How can any of this be....you appear to us as an ordinary boy, but now you are undoubtedly the Pan. There have been no sprites in these woods for a very long time, now there are more than one can count. You said that we were not here before...but here we are......come forward Rising Dawn."

A woman stepped forward, her features pretty but far older than the face Peter remembered. "Tiger Lily?"

"No....my name is Rising Dawn....my mother's name was Tiger Lily."

"But she was.....I remember her as a girl."

"It would seem that time has become.....flexible." The Chief suggested, waving Rising Dawn back and taking Peter by the arm. "It is said among my people that the past, present and future are not fixed, but a moment that moves back and forth, faster and slower depending on the view of the watcher. To us, we have never left this place, have been here many generations. But to you, we appeared to have gone, then come back,and you have gone from a boy to a man. Now a man who was dead has come back to life. I think it is all part of a circle."

"Circle?"

"Of life and death and this place."

"You mean Neverland."

"We call this place another name, one whose meaning had been lost in the mists of the ancestors until now. Kiansenchu, the island of no tomorrows."

"Neverland."

"All things are possible here, you have seen that yourself. They follow no rules but their own and we are just travelers sharing the same path."

"Then what am I?"

"You are what binds it all together."

Overwhelmed, Peter pressed his hands to the sides of his head and dropped to the ground. "What does it all mean?"

"It means, my son that you can decide what happens here." Kirano's voice made Peter's eyes pop open, the small man sitting cross legged in front of him, the Indians no longer in evidence.

"Where did they go?"

"Back to their lives."

"Kirano...I don't understand."

"It is not important that you understand.....it is important that you believe."

"I don't...."

"Do you remember what happened now?"

"There was an explosion aboard the ship, someone got careless and the magazine blew."

"You were gravely injured Peter....more than the island could repair."

Peter stared at the native, unsure what to say. Kirano sighed and continued.

"If we had done nothing you would have ceased to exist....all this would have died. We chose to live....we restored you but had to advance your development, in the process losing your memory of the time before. You survived and awoke on the shore."

"And Wendy?"

"When it became clear that you were not recovering your memories, and therefore not being who you were, we decided that you needed someone to remind you. We had a choice.....use your greatest enemy, or your greatest love."

"You snatched her from her world and brought her here."

Kirano nodded."Because we had aged you, we had to age her....it was a simple enough decision."

"And Hook?"

"That was something we overlooked. As your memory returned, so did the those things you'd forgotten."

"The chest we found, the locket."

"Yes....it revived his memory, and revived the man as well."

"Why has he taken Wendy?"

"Because she is important to you.....he and you have a history that stretches back a long way....to a time even before this place."

"I was his ward."

"He was your guardian as a child, yes."

"Why have I never been told about that?"

"Who would have told you? Hook? He understands the nature of this place, he knows that he could never leave and claim the fortune that he plotted to gain. If he went back, then you would assuredly go back as well and if you were alive, then it all belonged to you. It was a no win situation, so he chose instead to remain here."

"That is why he hates me so."

"You start to understand at last Pan."

"I have to find her."

"Yes you do....and I you will."

Closing his eyes, Peter drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again Kirano was gone. As he stared around at the now empty glade he felt some of the fear leave him. He was not alone, he was not unloved and he was certainly not done for.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy stumbled again and Hook's grip on her arm tightened painfully. Early dawn light was starting to streak the clouds with pink and gold as she fought to right herself, Hook's breath hissing against her ear as she tried to resist his pull.

"Trying to slow me down m'dear?"

"I tripped." Wendy gasped, pulling back to put some distance between them. Not releasing his hold Hook tugged her forward once more and they continued along the track, Wendy gritting her teeth as his fingers dug into her flesh. "You're hurting me."

"If you can't keep up I'll be forced to drag you....and I think you'll find that infinitely more painful, now pick up your feet."

Still resisting Wendy took greater care to look out for roots as they carried on, her head twisting around as she searched for any sign that they were being followed.

"You'll twist your pretty head off your neck if you don't stop." Hook remarked, suddenly stopping and jerking her around to face him. Wendy stared up into his pale blue eyes, her own wary as if he was a snake waiting to pounce.

"You are wise to fear me my dear....."

"I don't fear you.....I despise you."

"Goodness gracious, such strong emotions from one so young."

"You plan to kill Peter...what else do you expect me to feel?"

"And do you understand why I want to kill him?"

"You want his inheritance."

Hook stared at her in surprise. "Now how do you know about that?"

"We found a box...."

"Ahhhh....the Panferris box. So you know everything....does he?"

"Yes.....we know that you were his guardian, supposed to look after him until he came of age."

"Yes...I was. Emilia and Phillip were my closest friends......they even named their son for me."

"I know...Peter James. How could you betray him, a child, you were supposed to care for him!"

"Why? It doesn't matter now....it is all far too long ago to worry about why."

As if suddenly recalling where he was, Hook shook his head, resuming his pace, dragging Wendy alongside him.

"It's all ancient history, m'dear....time to worry about more recent events I think."

Unable to catch her breath, Wendy could only gasp and try not to fall as they burst from the cover of the jungle onto a slope leading down to a dark beach.

"I know this place!" Wendy said, staring at the tall black spires at the base of the headland off to the right.

"It's where I was reborn, you might say. But come, let's not tarry. I saw one of those infernal insects following us, I'm sure it's already winging its way back to our hero, he'll be following hot foot once he knows where to find you."

With a surge of anger, well laced with fear, Wendy suddenly twisted free of Hook, her toes digging into the coarse sand as she ran for her life, her hair blinding her as she tried to escape. The sound of Hook's boots behind her spurred her on, her breath coming out as sobs as she tripped, sprawling, only to scramble up again and continue her flight. She had almost reached a low spine of rocks when Hook tackled her, both of them going down onto the hard shingle. Wendy had the breath knocked out of her, crushed under Hook's weight, her feet kicking at him as he wrestled to capture her flailing hands. In the ensuing struggle she managed to land a kick that made him grunt and relax his grip, her body twisting out from under him as he curled up. On all fours she tried to get away, only to have his hand close around her ankle, yanking her leg out from under her.

"Enough witch!" Hook panted, pulling his fist back and letting fly, catching Wendy on the jaw and knocking her out cold. Getting up on one knee, Hook paused to catch his breath before rising to his feet. With his hands on his hips he stared down at the girl laying unconscious on the shingle, her hair spread out around her like silk, a bruise already forming on her face from his blow.

"Troublesome wench....now I'll have to carry you." Reaching down he pulled Wendy's arm to get her upright then slung her over his shoulder so she hung down his back. With an easy stride he walked to where he'd left the boat, throwing Wendy into the shallow bottom before pushing it out into the water. Rowing steadily he made for the wreck of his ship, the sea rising and falling in an oily swell as his oars dipped and rose over the surface. On reaching the side of the Jolly Roger he secured the boat before heaving Wendy once more over his shoulder and climbing the rungs to the rail of the ship. Once aboard he strode with his insensible burden to the main mast, kicking the debris out of the way before securing her against the scarred wood. Wendy hung in the ropes like a ragdoll, her hair hiding her face as Hook finished tying her tightly before stepping back.

"That should hold one interfering female...time to prepare a trap for Peter Pan."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As the sun rose above the horizon, Peter was receiving the news of Wendy's whereabouts from one of his fairy friends, the sprite quite breathless from his headlong rush from the black bay to Peter's treehouse.

Peter had returned to his home to prepare. If it was to come down to a battle between him and Hook he was going to go fully equipped, Hook's dueling blades secured to his back, his knife at his belt, the locket around his neck with the ring looped through the chain. He had kept his leaf costume rather than change into Hook's old clothes, his leaves feeling like a second skin, at once both familiar and strange. The locket hung heavily around his neck, resting over his heart, his fingers brushing over the entwined lettering as he thought of the questions he's get answers for before he ended Hook's existence for the second time for daring to lay hands on his Wendy.

As he ate a hasty meal the fairy flew erratically through the window, fluttering to the table top exhausted. Peter listened intently as the creature relayed its information, Peter's knuckles turning white as the fairy related Hook's treatment of his captive.

"I'll gut the codfish....I'll string him from the yard arm...."

With a sweep of his hand Peter cleared the table, the plates and food clattering to the floor. Turning on his heel he ran to the wide window and launched himself into the air, the sun blinding him for a moment before he cleared the tree tops, his head turning towards the coast, his mouth set in a grim line.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A wind was rising, whistling through the tangled lines hanging down from the sail arms, the ship shifting against it rocky berth as the formerly calm sea started to foam, the swell dragging at the torn edges of the ships mortal wound, the booming of the waves like the tolling of a bell as they battered the guts of the wreck.

Hook waited, concealed in the shadows of the wheelhouse, his guns held at the ready as the thickening clouds plunged the morning into gloom. Clearly visible from his vantage point, Wendy still hung insensible against the main mast, her body held upright by the crisscross of ropes binding her to the wood, her head hanging forward, hair covering her face.

"If that isn't enough to draw you out, I don't know what is." Hook murmured to himself, glancing up at the turbulent sky.

The clouds gathering above suddenly sent a spike of white light across the island, lightning lending an eery sharpness to the scene, the smell of ozone sharp against the brine of the ocean. The clap of thunder a few second later sounded muted and distant but indicative of the gathering storm.

"Stamp your feet all you like boy....you don't fool me." Hook muttered as another flash of brilliant light illuminated the deck and the girl tied to the mast. The sky was rapidly darkening, the wind swirling around the deck, tugging at the remnants of sailcloth and singing through the ropes like a banshee. The waves were getting bigger, the ship groaning as they smashed their way into the hold, gutting the ship further. To add to the fury, rain started to slash down, running in rivulets over the deck, cascading off the eaves of the doorway where he waited. Hook felt like laughing as the tempest raged over the remains of the Jolly Roger.

Another flash of light blinded him and he put up his arm to shield his eyes momentarily. When he lowered his arm he felt his lips pulling into a grin. "There you are."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter felt a turmoil of emotions churning inside him, the weather reflecting his mood as he hovered above the wreck. It appeared deserted as it had always been but he knew better. Down there was Hook, probably waiting to ambush him, but also Wendy. As he circled the ship a flash of lightning illuminated the deck and he gasped to see the slight form bound to the mast, her torn shirt fluttering in the rising wind, her hair hiding her face, body unmoving. With his heart twisting in his chest, Peter descended to the deck, casting a quick look about before approaching the motionless figure hanging like a puppet with its strings broken and tangled.

As he reached out a hand towards her a loud noise and the splintering of wood near Wendy head brought his head around. The shot had come from the doorway of the wheel house and Peter quickly put the mast between him and his concealed enemy.

"Can't have you thinking you can just waltz off with me captive now...bad form, don'tcha know."

"What have you done to her Hook?"

"Oh she's alive....for the moment. Just taking a little nap. She would insist on trying to escape and she's such a slight little thing, I'm afraid I may have hit her too hard."

A red mist started to rise in Peter's vision, his hand reaching up for the sword held over his shoulder. He drew it out slowly, letting the blade slide against the scabbard with a grating noise clearly audible over the storm.

"I'll make you pay for every injury you've inflicted on her...and take pleasure in doing so!"

"My, my....so bloodthirsty...and all because of a girl." Hook sneer made Peter grit his teeth as he drew the second sword from its scabbard, again allowing the sound to carry across the deck to the hidden pirate.

"But she's not just any girl, is she Peter....she's a Wendy. And all grown up, to boot."

"You're not fit to mention her name!" Peter shouted, darting across to a pile of debris, working his way towards the dark doorway concealing Hook.

"Oh I've done more than just mention her name, dear boy. But let us leave Wendy out of this little conflict, it's very rude to talk about someone when they are unable to speak for themselves." Seeing Peter coming closer, Hook moved himself to the other side of the door, his second pistol tracking Peter as he darted to another sheltering pile of debris. "She said you found the chest......so you know who I am, who you are."

"I know that my parents trusted you to take care of me.....what changed? When did you decided that killing me was more profitable than remaining my guardian?"

"There was no profit brat.....I was left to care for a puling babe who would one day have it all..everything I wanted for just a few short years while you grew to your majority...then it would all be taken away. Fate had already taken away the one person I wanted above all others...I was not prepared to allow his brat to take the rest."

"Did you kill my parents?"

"Stupid boy....why would I want to kill the love of my life. Your father, damn him, was an arrogant bastard full of his own importance. He took her away from me, stole her love from me. He killed her, killed them......and left me with his spawn, as if that could replace her."

The rain blinded him momentarily and Peter paused to wipe his face, a flash of lightning revealing Hook in the doorway, his face contorted with remembered grief and anguish.

Most of what Hook was saying washed over him, his focus all on facing the man that had stolen his future and become his enemy.

As Peter moved to another hiding place Hook suddenly raised his remaining pistol and fired, the shot taking off the corner of the box where Peter crouched, the splinters flying in all directions, one larger piece glancing across Peter's cheek and drawing blood. With his pistols spent, Hook drew his cutlass and stepped out of the doorway, the rain instantly soaking his suit of clothes, turning them black.

"Afraid to face me boy?" Hook shouted above the crash of thunder that rent the sky. "Your father was a coward, are you following in his footsteps?"

With a yell, Peter leaped the wooden case and ran at Hook, the two swords flashing as he leap to engage the pirate captain. Hook was ready for him and the blades clashed together, Peter's eyes widening as he noted Hook's complete right hand holding a wicked stiletto. Hook saw his glance and grinned. "You're fighting a whole man this time Pan. Think you can beat a real man, not a cripple?"

"Never thought of you as a cripple Hook.....if I ever thought of you at all."

Pushing away they stood a scant foot apart, eyes locked, sea-green on ice-blue, blades raised with deadly intent.

"Hardly a fair fight if you're going to fly away at any moment."

"I won't fly.....and since when did you fight fair?"

"Good point!" Hook hissed, landing a blow on Peter's blade as he feinted with the long knife, Peter blocking that with his other sword. Within the limited space of the rain soaked deck they fought back and forth, parrying and feinting, blocking blows and lunging, the air filled with the sound of metal on metal, punctuated with the grunts and heavy breathing of the combatants. Used to Hook fighting left handed, Peter had to rapidly change his defense as the pirate swapped his blade to his right, almost slipping under Peter's guard with one slash, the tip of the cutlass nicking Peter's arm and drawing blood.

"Out of practice are we boy?" Hook panted as they paused, both breathing heavily.

"Out of breath old man?" Peter retorted, flicking up his blade and making Hook flinch back. Hook's eyes narrowed and he suddenly swung his blade, cutting through a hanging rope. Peter risked a glance up in time to see a huge wooden block and tackle swinging towards his head, Peter ducking as it swept over his head, Hook taking advantage and lunging forward only to find his blow blocked as Peter spun and parried.

"Nice try Hook...got any more tricks up your sleeve?"

"More than a dog has fleas, brat."

With a slashing blow Hook pressed forward, forcing Peter back, his bare foot tangling with some rigging and sending him to the deck. With a cry Hook stabbed downwards, intending to spit his opponent but found him gone, the point of his sword sticking in the wet wood of the deck.

With the rain all but blinding him, Peter regained his feet and savagely back slashed Hook, catching the man as he released his blade, a long thin gash opening up on Hook's cheek, close to his eye.

Backing away, Hook wiped the blood away on his sleeve, staining his lace cuff crimson. As Peter raised his swords, Hook stepped back and slashed another rope, a rumble alerting Peter to a net dropping from a spar above him. Throwing himself sideways he somersaulted and found his feet despite the slippery deck just as the heavy net landed on the deck beside him.

"Missed again Hook!" Peter taunted, dancing just beyond the pirates reach as he lunged.

As Hook raised his cutlass the ship lurched over to seaward, tilting the deck to an impossible angle, tossing Hook and Peter off their feet, Peter sliding across the deck to fetch up against the railing, Hook snagging a rope to halt his slide.

A spar, loosened with the wind, came crashing down between the protagonists, opening a hole in the deck, smashing its way into the hold. Down on one knee, Peter saw Hook haul himself across the deck and disappear inside the wheel house. The ship tilted again, rocking violently with the force of the waves pounding it against the reef, more debris raining down on the deck as Peter sheathed his swords and lifted off the deck to reach the main mast. Wendy still hung loosely in the ropes, her body swinging back and forth with each roll of the ship. Peter drew his knife and slashed at the ropes holding her, her body falling into his arms, pulling him to the deck where he held her, his hand slipping inside her drenched shirt to find her heart beat, her feeling skin cold to the touch. Gathering her against his body, he lifted into the air, dodging the wildly swaying main mast, the ship now rolling on to its side with each wave, ropes whipping through the air like snakes, almost snagging Peter as he cleared the mast, angling to the right to head for the island, Wendy held securely in his arms.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: Ten - Hanging By A Thread
Rating: PG13-extreme fluff warning.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Wendy?"

"She can't hear you boy....you should take her to the Indian camp."

"No..she wouldn't be safe there."

"She's burning up Peter...."

"I'll make her better....She'll wake up soon."

There was a loud sigh then the second voice spoke again."Peter...if you won't take her to the Indian's you'll have to take her back."

"Back?"

"Back to her world...."

"NO!"

"They can take care of her...."

"I can take care of her....she'll stay here."

The voices faded away as Wendy sank back down into burning oblivion, her mind drifting, Hook's laughing face swooping down at her, then Peter's, his eyes full of love and concern, then the faces changed, Wendy batting them away like flies buzzing round her head. She felt hot and her chest felt tight, as if a great weight was pressing down on her, stifling her, suffocating her. In desperation she fought the covers keeping in the heat, kicking them away every time she felt them over her, fighting to drag air into her starving lungs until the blackness sucked her down again.

Peter adjusted the cover again as Wendy appeared to slip into a deep sleep, her restless movements finally stilling. He watched as she slept, his finger reaching out to twitch away an errant strand of hair, brushing against her skin, feeling the heat coming off her forehead.

"Please get better...I don't want you to leave me."

Wetting a cloth, he squeezed it out before laying it on her forehead, her head turning towards him, her eyes tightly closed.

He'd carried her off the Jolly Roger and back to their home, a small flock of fairies shadowing him as he deftly negotiated the wide window and landed on his feet, Wendy still held close, her body shivering against him. Dropping to one knee he gently placed her on the sail cloth mattress, her body laying boneless and unaware. Getting to his feet he stripped off his weapons, dropping them carelessly on the floor before rummaging for a dry change of clothes for Wendy. Grabbing a towel as well he returned to the bed and started to dry her hair, rubbing the long strands and spreading it out around her head. Next he started to remove her soaked shirt and trousers, his fingers shaking with nerves at first but a sudden shudder from Wendy steadied him, his fingers quickly undoing the buttons before lifting her up to pull the wet shirt down her arms, tossing it away before laying her down again. Briskly he toweled her arms and torso, lifting her up so that she leant against him while he rubbed her back dry. That done he tackled her breeches, tugging them down her hips and off her long legs, the trousers joining the shirt while he rubbed her legs dry. Throwing the damp towel to join the heap behind him, Peter pulled over the long nightshirt and once more eased her upright, slipping the shirt over her head and tucking her arms in the voluminous sleeves. With her covered from her neck to her knees, Peter rolled her into a blanket, tucking it around her, cocooning her. Exhausted, he crawled onto the mattress beside her, drawing her limp form against his body, his own shivering from his damp clothes as he wrapped his arms about her.

He'd held her through the long afternoon until the sun dipped below the trees, dozing himself, his leaf outfit drying on him. When Wendy started to throw off her blanket, he rose and filled a basin with cool water, wringing out a cloth and bathing her flushed face, smoothing her sweat soaked hair off her forehead before laying the cloth over her skin to cool her. Kirano appeared at his side not long after, the little man sitting cross legged on the floor, brown eyes worried as Peter wiped Wendy's sweating face again.

A bruise marred her white face, Peter taking care not to press against her swollen mouth, his blood boiling every time he thought of the blow struck by Hook. As far as Peter knew or cared, the pirate was still aboard the Jolly Roger, the ship breaking up around him, Peter leaving him to the fate of the wind and sea.

Above his head the fairies sat up in the rafters, casting a glow over the room as the soft light of sunset filled the sky. Kirano shifted, the shells around his ankles clinking in the silence broken only by Wendy's labored breathing.

"I'll have to take her back."

"It's for the best boy......she's done everything that was expected of her....you have your memory back, you are who you should be....Neverland is restored."

"At what cost to me...to her.....is she going to die?"

Bowing his head Kirano fiddled with his bone necklace.

"No....she will not die, not if you return her to her world."

As Peter stared down at her, Wendy suddenly started to cough, a wet sound that racked her frame as she curled up on her side, drawing her knees up. When the coughing stopped Wendy lay gasping for breath, her eyelids fluttering before opening fully, focusing on Peter who hovered over her, worry creasing his brow.

"P-P-eter?"

"We're home Wendy....you're safe from Hook."

"You rescued me?"

"Yes."

Wendy coughed again, wincing as her fingers encountered her bruised mouth.

"I'm so cold....."

Leaning forward Peter lay the back of his fingers against her cheek, feeling heat flush her skin, two bright spots of colour painting her face.

"I'll keep you warm."

Laying down beside her again, Peter gently pulled her so she lay with her head on his shoulder, the rug tucked around her and partly over him. Wendy closed her eyes and shuddered against him, her fingers convulsively clutching the edge of the blanket.

"I have to take you back Wendy....." Peter started to explain, stopping as a lump formed in his throat, choking him. Oblivious, Wendy snuggled closer, her pounding head blocking any understanding of his words.

"P-Peter....please..."

Thinking that she was asking him to take her back to her home, Peter swallowed hard, tears pricking his eyes. "I'll take you tonight."

Forgotten, Kirano glanced up at the fairies hovering above before sighing and shaking his head. Rising to his feet he picked up his staff and tapped it on the floor. Lifting his hand he held it above the makeshift bed, both Peter and Wendy unaware of his presence. Invoking the ancient magic of the island, Kirano sent Peter into a deep sleep, the fairies weaving complex patterns above the couples head as Kirano moved his staff over them.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Wendy's form started to fade, her body disappearing from Peter's arms as he slept, Kirano also fading away until only the fairies remained to stand guard over their unconscious savior.

When Peter awoke with the dawn he was alone.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy opened her eyes and blinked slowly, yawning as she resisted the pull of sleep, for once not feeling the tightness gripping her chest and making breathing difficult. Staring up at the ceiling she wondered idly where she was, the room nothing like a bedroom, the walls quite plain and painted a pale green on the upper half, a dirty cream on the lower. Turning her head she saw a door with a glass window insert, the air redolent of disinfectant and soap. The linen beneath her head felt crisp and starched, the sheet covering her the same, slightly rough against her fingers. Her mind struggled to remember why she would be laying in a hospital bed, her brows drawing together with the effort as she racked her memory for anything to explain why she was there.

The door opened and a nurse appeared, her skirts rustling as she approached the bed, her eyes smiling down at Wendy.

"You're awake at last....how are you feeling?"

Licking dry lips Wendy could only croak, as if she had lost the use of her voice. Filling a glass standing ready on the bedside table, the nurse lifted Wendy's head and let her take a few sips to moisten her mouth.

"There now....try again."

"Where am I?"

"Saint Judes'' hospital dear....do your remember your name?"

"Er.....Wendy?"

"And your last name?"

"Um....I'm not sure.....Pan?"

"Pan?"

"I think so...."

"So....Wendy Pan....at least we can put your proper name on the charts at last."

"Why am I here?" Wendy asked, watching as the nurse straightened the covers after resting a cool hand against her forehead.

"You had a nasty inflammation of your lungs. Had you been left much longer it could have been pneumonia."

"Oh.....how long..?"

"About a week....do you have any family Wendy?"

At the mention of family an image of a lovely woman and a bespectacled man appeared in Wendy's mind, her hand coming up to rub at her temple as their names eluded her.

"I think so....I can't remember."

"You're bound to be a little muddled at first, but I'm sure you'll remember eventually. Do you think you had a husband or fiance?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You kept calling out a name when you were sick.....Peter."

"Peter?" An image of a tall youth with short blonde hair, fathomless eyes and a roguish smile jumped into Wendy's head, his cheeky expression making her lips curve into a smile. "Peter."

"Yes, you said the name several times....do you remember him?"

"I can see his face.....but that's all."

"Never mind....I'm sure it will all come back to you."

"I hope so."

"The Doctor will be around to see you soon....he'll be pleased that you're more yourself at last."

"Thank you."

After the nurse left the room, Wendy lay staring up at the ceiling, the image of the handsome boy teasing her, his name repeating itself in her head as she strained to remember who he was and why he was wearing a strange costume of leaves.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter padded to the hot spring, quickly stripping down to his skin before climbing into the pool, the water soaking some of the tension out of his limbs, steam rising and tickling his nose with its sulphurous smell.

It had been over a week since he'd opened his eyes and found Wendy gone from Neverland. He'd searched the island from top to bottom, even returning to the Jolly Roger, the ship broken against the reef, no sign of its former captain or captive.

He'd questioned both the Indian's and the fairies, receiving no answer from either, his repeated calls for Kirano to appear remaining unanswered. He ached inside, his memory recalling her image at every turn of the trail, every time he looked around his home, with each pass over the wreck of the ship or the smoke plumes of the Indian village. Wendy was every where in his mind but no where on the island.

Frustrated he scoured every corner of Neverland, always followed by a flotilla of fairy folk, their bright lights his constant companions as he flew over the jungles and forests of his domain. A domain achingly empty without her by his side.

Now he tilted his head back and allowed his body to relax, the line between his eyebrows easing and smoothing out as he sighed, heat finding every knotted muscle and untangling them.

He hoped that wherever Kirano had sent her, they were looking after her and making her well again, his last image of her bruised white face haunting him, both asleep and awake.

Slipping into a doze he let his mind go blank, his breathing evening out as he drifted. Images started to flip through his mind like snapshots, of a room with a white bed and a girl laying against the pillow, her hair spread around her head, curling damply against the clean linen. Her lips parting as her head moved restlessly back and forth, her brows knotting as her hands clenched against the crisply starched sheet. The image changed to the same girl sitting in a chair and staring out of a window, her eyes unfocused as she chewed absently on a thumbnail, her hair brushed and shining about her pale face as she sat lost in thought. Again the image changed with the girl dressed in a loose fitting gown obviously not her own, her face blank as she faced a couple entering the room, the woman running over to her and embracing her, tears streaming down her face, the man similarly moved, his pale blue eyes hidden behind round spectacles, tears sliding down his face as he watched the reunion of his wife and eldest child. The image changed again, the young woman was now in a house, once more seated in a chair, her face turned to the window once again blank, her eyes unfocused, lost in her thoughts, her lips moving, speaking a name, his name.

With a start Peter's eye flew open, his mouth filling with warm water as he floundered in the pool, coughing as he scrambled to his feet, Wendy's image still clear in his head. She was alive, she was well, she was thinking about him.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Peter waded to the edge of the pool and climbed out. Rubbing himself down with a towel he donned his clothes and padded back to the tree house, his mind full of thoughts of Wendy. When he climbed the ladder he found Kirano waiting for him, the tiny savage sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"You're going back for her." Kirano stated, staring up at Peter as he seated himself at the table.

"I can't get her out of my mind......I want her here..with me."

"Why? She did all that we needed for her to do......she belongs in their world.....not yours."

"Because she belongs with me.....I brought her here the first time...she gave me her hidden kiss......."

"There are any number of girls out there.....why her?"

"She tells stories.......she....she....argues with me...."

"She's pretty, brave...." Kirano added, a smile hovering on his lips.

"She loves me..." Peter's whisper dropped into the pause and Kirano had to quickly hide his smile.

"And you?"

"Me?"

"Love spoils everything....isn't that what you said?"

"I.....I did say that.....but I was wrong."

"Wrong Peter?"

"Yes......I love her."

"And now?"

"I'm going to bring her back here."

"What about Hook?"

"Hook has disappeared."

"He's just waiting...biding his time....he will still try to kill you."

"Why? What happened in the past is lost to us......whatever my heritage, I cannot go back to it....."

"You could...." Kirano interrupted, watching Peter react as if struck.

"What?"

"Your inheritance, in her world, is held in trust for Peter James Panferris, only son of the Earl of Strathvern, who vanished along with his guardian, Captain James Hook during a voyage from the port of London......Peter?"

His audience was absorbed in looking at the couple painted in miniature, facing each other in the locket, Peter's finger tracing over the faces as he stared at them intently.

"I don't want it...Hook can have it.....I have nearly everything I need here."

"Nearly?"

"I need Wendy.....here, with me."

Kirano sighed then grinned broadly.

"Then you will have to go and get her."

"Why not....." Peter waved his hands.

"Use my magic?" Kirano asked, receiving a nod from Peter.

"Because this must be her choice this time."

Nodding, Peter closed the locket and looped the chain back over his head, the ring and locket clinking together.

"How will I find her?"

"Let your heart guide you......it knows where she is."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy sat and rocked gently in her chair, her eyes drawn to the rain falling outside her window. A knock at the door heralded the arrival of her Mother who beckoned for a maid to carry in a tea tray, the teapot exuding wisps of steam as she placed it on the table near the window.

"How are you feeling dearest?"

"Fine....thank you." Wendy answered a trifle abstractedly, her eyes not leaving the streaming rivulets sliding down the glass pane. Ignoring her apparent indifference, Mary Darling set about pouring a cup of tea for her daughter, her eyes glancing repeatedly at Wendy's face, wondering at the faraway look in the blue eyes.

"Thank you Liza....I'll ring when its ready to be collected."

Waiting for the maid to leave, Mary poured herself a cup before passing Wendy hers. "Here dearest, are you hungry?"

"No...thank you."

Sipping her tea Wendy wondered when the feelings of loss would leave her. It had been a shock when her parents arrived to collect her, her memory of her life before waking up at the hospital still fractured at best. Her parents had seemed so patently pleased to have her back after apparently being missing for several years, she didn't have the heart to tell them she didn't remember them. This didn't deter her mother and father from lavishing her with every care, her body recovering quickly once they installed her in their home, her brothers as generous with their love as her parents, welcoming her back to the family as if she'd never been gone. Despite her return to the bosom of her family she felt something missing, a part of her cut off from her the life forming around her, a part that kept dredging up images that didn't fit with the cosy house and rambunctious boys, with her loving mother whose face still bore the lines of strain and grief caused by her disappearance so long ago.

The Doctor's had said she would remember in time where she'd been and what had happened, but Wendy had a feeling that wherever she'd been taken, or by who, they had not treated her badly or harmed her, quite the reverse in her estimation. Despite her illness she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was looking for her, searching for her, wanting her to return to wherever she'd been before the hospital.

"Wendy dear?"

Drawing her attention back to her mother, Wendy sipped at her now cold tea, drinking it all before handing the cup over to be refilled.

"I think if you are feeling better dearest we could try a trip to the park, the weather has been so nice the last few days.....what do you think?"

"Yes please....I'd like to feel the sun on my face again."

"Then that's settled.....tomorrow we'll hire a carriage, an open landau I think if the weathers nice.....a picnic, what do you think?"

"A picnic would be nice."

"Then that's what we'll do......of course your father will be in the city and the boys at school, but I think a trip with just you and I will be a pleasure."

Reaching her hand out, Wendy caught her mothers and squeezed it. "A great pleasure." Smiling, she gave her mother an encouraging smile which was returned with one of unbearable poignancy.

"Why are you so sad precious?"

"I don't know why.....I think it has everything to do with not remembering what happened to me....I feel I left something important behind, something unfinished......but I don't know what."

"Would it have something to do with why you remember someone called Peter and called yourself Pan, instead of Darling?"

"I suppose so....it's so strange....I remember everything up to us going to that house....but nothing until I woke up in the hospital, why is that?"

"The Doctor said you'd have a blow to the face, and you were so ill."

"But surely that would mean I'd forget everything....not remember it as I have...almost as soon as I saw you I knew who you were, you and father. When the nurse asked me about my family I had an image of you both suddenly in my head."

"We never stopped hoping, looking...you have no idea how many times..." Pulling out a scrap of cambric, Mary Darling wiped away a tear. "The police would contact us whenever any young woman with your description appeared on their books as an unknown....we hardly dared hope when they said you remembered your first name..." Overcome, Mary broke down, her hands pressed to her mouth.

Feeling tears start to prick her own eyes, Wendy once more clasped her mothers' hand, both taking comfort from the other.

Blowing her nose, Mary Darling gave her daughter a watery smile. "Well....there I was supposed to be cheering you up...and I'm weeping all over you. I'll ring for Liza to clear this away."

Once more alone, Wendy stared once out the window, the images crowding her brain no less confusing or bewildering, the one constant, Peter's face, anchoring her. She knew now that it was Peter Pan's face she was seeing, but he had aged, as she had done, by several years. As she didn't remember seeing him since their goodbye at the nursery window so many years ago, she couldn't explain why his image was so clear to her now. What had happened to her in those missing years, where had she been? Had she been with Peter, had he come back for her? All she did know was that her heart ached unbearable, as if something, or someone very close to her had been ripped away. Sighing she closed her eyes, slipping into a doze, her daydreams filled with strange images and a longing to be somewhere else.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The morning dawned fine and the plans for the picnic went ahead. The Darling women, along with the maid Liza, packed a wicker basket along with rugs and parasols, loaded it all into the hired landau, together with themselves, and set out. Wendy breathed deeply, the sun warm on her face as she tilted her parasol to allow the sun to bathe her skin.

They were heading for an estate just outside London, the grounds open to the public during certain months of the year. As they bowled along Wendy felt some of the uncertainty leave her, as if their destination was, in itself, the answer to some of her questions. The parkland had once belonged to a distinguished family, their history one of tragedy with the only heir having disappeared and the house and grounds put into a trust. With no living family occupying the house, the estate had become a bone between several interested parties until it was decided to make it a public concern for the enjoyment of all. Bowling through the ornate gates Wendy glanced up at the iron work and felt a frission of shock run through her at the letters entwined in the fretwork.

"What was the name of the family that originally owned this parkland?"

"I believe it was Strathvern....such a sad end to the Earldom."

"What happened?"

"It's not entirely clear, it all happened so long ago...but I believe the Earl and his wife were killed in an accident and their only son, and heir disappeared a few years later, along with his guardian."

"Was there no-one to inherit the estate?"

"No....it was held up intestate for several years because the Earl's will was lost...caused a dreadful kerfuffle, they had to wait for the heir to be declared dead before the lawyers could decide the next in line, and when that became unprovable it became the property of the crown, then many years later it was made into a public park."

"What about the house?"

"According to the London Guide, it was converted a few years ago into an orphanage run in conjunction with the great Ormand Street hospital."

Wendy stared across the grassy parkland with its mature trees and central lake, ducks and swans swimming around the central island with it's ancient oak on the summit. The drive swept around the lake, the house sitting off in the distance set like a white pearl amongst the greenery. Their driver tooled the landau to an area where other carriages stood waiting for their owners to return from their walks or picnics. With the help of the groom, the ladies found a shady spot that overlooked the lake under the spreading branches of an old willow, its tender green foliage cascading down artfully and creating a leafy bower.

"Isn't this beautiful," Mary Darling enthused, standing to one side with Wendy while Liza lay down the rugs and mats, the basket off to the side. Once settled, they watched the various people who were already promenading around the grounds, feeding the ducks and some boating on the lake.

"I think I'd like to take a walk.....will you come, Wendy?"

"No thank you....it's so peaceful here, I want to just soak it all in and watch the world go by."

"As you wish....I won't go far....Liza?"

"Coming Ma'am."

Wendy watched her mother walk sedately down towards the lake, Liza trailing behind. Alone, Wendy settled herself and lay back upon the rug, her hat discarded, parasol closed beside her. The willow provided all the shade she needed as well as protecting her from inquisitive eyes as people strolled by. She stared up into the branches of the tree, listening to the birds and the faint murmur of voices, punctuated with the distant rattle of carriages on the driveway. Closing her eyes she sighed and relaxed, for once letting some of the sadness seep out of her.

Suddenly a sweet melody pierced the bucolic sounds, someone nearby playing softly on a flute, so softly that only Wendy appeared close enough to hear it. Lifting her head, she could see her mother and their maid down by the shores of the lake. Laying her head back she listened to the music, letting the melody drift over her as the player wove the notes over and over in a tune she didn't recognize. As if enticed to join in a bird started to warble, its chirps complementing the flute as the tune floated to her, even the breeze rustling the willow branches seemed to add to the magic. On a final quavering note the music stopped, Wendy holding her breath as she sat up, twisting her head to try and see the player. A sound made her look up and she saw a very brown foot dangling down from amongst the branches, the owner of the leg swinging it to and fro.

"You in the tree....was that you playing the music?"

The foot stopped swinging and suddenly disappeared, pulled into the greenery as its owner prepared to climb down. Sitting up, Wendy watched as a lanky youth lowered himself with his back to her from a branch, dropping to the ground in a crouch before rising up to his full height.

"Yes is was me......did you like it?"

"It was beautiful.....my name is Wendy."

"I know....have you forgotten me already?"

Turning, the youth faced Wendy, his blue-green eyes meeting her wide blue one with an intense expression.

"Peter?"

"Then you do remember me."

"I remember your face..but...I remember.....so little.."

Moving slowly Peter approached her, his eyes never leaving hers, his hand reaching out to help her to her feet.

"I've come to take you home Wendy."

"I am home.....my parents....my brothers..."

"I mean home to Neverland....my home."

"I-I..." Turning her head, Wendy glanced quickly towards the lake, her mother already making her way back towards the willow.

"I can't leave them again.....they suffered so much."

Peter's hand still held hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand, distracting her, pulling her eyes back to his.

"I want you to come back with me.........I need you Wendy."

"I've only just been returned......I don't even know what happened to me....was I with you?"

"Yes....Neverland brought you to help me."

"Did I?"

"Yes....you saved me......saved Neverland..."

"I did?"

Nodding his head, Peter drew her closer, Wendy unresisting as his arm slipped around her waist.

"I can tell you everything that happened.......please Wendy."

"I can't....I don't know..." Her whispered protest remained unfinished when Peter covered her mouth with his own, his lips moving over hers with an assurance born of familiarity which both alarmed her and excited her beyond reason. It felt so right to be kissed by him, held close to him, her body quivering against his as his tongue teased her lips apart and delved within. So caught up in their embrace, neither heard the shocked gasp of her mother as she entered the willow's shade, or of the maids' stifled giggle before she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Wendy....who is this?"

Startled by her mothers voice, Wendy broke the kiss, her eyes flying open to meet Peter's, her fingers pressed against his shirt covered chest feeling his heart pounding as hard as her own. Letting go of his shirt front, Wendy turned to face her mother, not seeing the cocky smile paint Peter's face as he licked his lips.

"Ur...Mother...this is....Peter."

"Peter....as in Peter Pan?"

"Er.....yes."

"But I thought he was just....a boy."

"He was.....is....was.....but he got...."

"Big," Peter added helpfully, schooling his features to hide the smile threatening to break out again. His body still shook slightly, his heart only just starting to slow down as he swallowed hard.

Wendy glanced back at him then, her intention to quell his irrepressible cockiness, but one look and she felt spellbound, her mother seeing the look and feeling a pain lance through her. This was the one, the one to take her child away, the one that made her feel incomplete when she wasn't with him.

"You're going to take her away from us again." Mary Darling stated flatly, sinking to the rug, defeated.

At her mothers tone, Wendy turned away from Peter and knelt down, throwing her arms about her mother and hugging her. "I'm not going....I won't leave you and father again....the boys....."

Looking up at the handsome young man standing beside them, Mary Darling sent him a wan smile. Hugging her daughter tightly, she pushed her away to stare into Wendy's face. "Yes dearest, you are leaving us again. You said yourself, you felt that you'd left something behind...left something unfinished....this is it. He is what you left behind....you have given your heart Wendy.....and you must go where your heart leads you."

"But I've only just come back."

"I know and I thank God that you are well, and I know you will be happy...that is a gift in itself, to know you are alive and in good hands."

"I don't know.....I don't want to leave you all again."

"You would have left in a few years anyway dearest.....you are of an age to be looking to the future."

"But..."

"Wendy.....do you love him?"

Knowing that Peter stood only a little way behind her, Wendy could only nod in confirmation, her head lowering as tears started to overflow her lashes.

"Does he love you?" Her mother asked under her breath, tilting Wendy's chin up, forcing her to look at her.

"I think so." Wendy replied, sniffing.

"Then that is all you need to know. Oh my darling, I so want you to be happy, and you have been so sad...." Mary glanced up at Peter over her daughter shoulder. "Will you make her happy?"

"I want to...more than anything."

"Do you love her?"

"I-I.....yes."

"Right then...." Pushing Wendy away, Mary reached for her handkerchief and mopped her own eyes before patting Wendy's cheeks dry. Liza stood behind them sniffling loudly. "Liza....pack up all this stuff....we are going home....and you," she hugged her daughter, "you have your future to discuss with this young man."

Wendy gripped her mother's hands tightly, nodding as she accepted a kiss on her cheek before Mary Darling climbed to her feet, letting go of Wendy's hand. Turning she faced Peter who stood his ground when she stepped forward and embraced him, kissing him on the cheek before stepping away.

"Her father and I would like to know one day what happened during those years our darling girl has been away.....but not now. Take care of her Peter Pan...she is very precious to us."

"As she is to me."

In no time at all the ground had been cleared of the rugs and baskets, Liza sent ahead to wait by the carriage for Mary Darling. Wendy stood beside Peter, still a little bewildered with the turn of events, her bottom lip trembling as her mother took a final leave taking of her eldest child, crushing her against her before releasing her with a final kiss on the cheek.

"Be happy my dear.....and let us know how you go on, from time to time."

"I will....I promise."

"Goodbye Peter."

"Goodbye.....Mother."

Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, Mary Darling turned her back on the couple and passed out of the curtain of willow leaves, not looking back until she put her foot on the step of the landau, only then did she glance over her shoulder at the couple still standing in the shade of the tree. Then she lifted her skirts and sat on the seat, Liza climbing in beside her, the driver whipping up the horses and carrying them along the drive and out of sight.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Wendy?"

"Yes Peter?"

"Your mother said you were sad."

"I was....from the moment I woke up in the hospital. I didn't know why until now......I-I-I missed you."

They were standing still hidden behind the curtain of willow, Wendy staring sightlessly after the carriage taking her mother away. Peter stood just behind her, his hands twitching to hold her again but also inexplicably afraid. When Wendy said she missed him, he felt his heart soar, a smile lighting his features.

Reaching out his hand he turned her to face him, her lashes hiding her eyes from him as she ducked her head. Seeing a single tear slip down her cheek and the quiver of her bottom lip, Peter groaned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest.

"Please don't cry......I missed you to....more than I ever expected to. I saw you everywhere....I even dreamed of you."

"Oh Peter....I feel so torn." Resting her head against his chest she listened to the strong beat of his heart, her fingers twisting the folds of his shirt into a knot.

"I want you with me, in Neverland, forever....and I want.....I want."

Lifting her head Wendy stared into his face, seeing his brows knotted as he struggled with the words he needed to say.

"What do you want Peter.....tell me."

"I want it all," he blurted out, "but it has to be your choice...you have to want it too."

"All?"

"Everything....I want to be able to touch you without you pulling away because I'm not your husband.....I want you to stay with me forever and not leave because you have to marry someone else."

Wendy pulled back and stared at him for a moment, her lips parted in surprise.

"I want you to choose me Wendy......make me your choice."

Snapping her mouth closed, Wendy ducked her head and concentrated on pleating his shirt, her busy fingers driving Peter to distraction. Clasping her fingers in his own, he stopped her fidgeting.

"What do you want Wendy?"

Looking up suddenly Wendy surprised a look of worried anticipation on Peter's face, his eyes intent on her face.

"I want......I want......you Peter. I choose you."

For a second Peter's face didn't change, then he suddenly grinned, his arms going around her and swinging her up as he twirled around, Wendy's feet leaving the ground and she squealed, Peter losing his balance so they ended up on the grass, laughing helplessly, limbs tangled.

"SHE CHOOSES ME!" Peter shouted, drawing more than a few curious stares as Wendy tried to shush him, her fingers covering her lips only to have him nibble on them and draw them into his mouth, shocking her with the sensation of his tongue against her fingers.

"She chooses me," he whispered again, his eyes sparkling up at her as she smiled down at him.

"I choose you." Wendy repeated, biting her bottom lip.

In a sudden move Peter rolled, taking Wendy with him so that she lay on her back, her hair coming loose from its pins and cascading over her shoulders. The neck of Peter's shirt gaped and a chain slipped out, a heavy locket and ring suspended from the golden thread. It dangled in front of Wendy's face and she reached up to stop it moving, her fingertips brushing over the letters entwined on the back of the rounded locket.

Suddenly she remembered the image wrought in iron above the main gates.

"Peter...what is this?"

Forgetting that Wendy didn't remember, Peter laughed down at her. "You know what this is."

Frowning, Wendy shook her head, turning the locket over and inspecting the painting on the front.

"It's my parents locket....remember we found it in the chest...the one from Hook's cabin."

"You're parents?"

"We found their will.....Hook was my guardian......there's a picture of them in the locket."

Finding the catch, Wendy opened the jewel, staring at the people painted within.

"What was their name?"

"It was like mine.....Panferris. You read the will to me....my mother's name was Emilia and my father, Phillip Panferris, Earl of Strathvern."

At the mention of his fathers name, Wendy suddenly paled, her eyes widening.

"Strathvern?"

"What's the matter.....why are you looking so strange?"

"Oh Peter......this park....this estate....it should have been yours."

"Mine?"

"This park is the estate of the Earl of Strathvern.....your parents used to live here....."

"What....here?"

Wendy nodded, swallowing as the enormity of who Peter could have been swamped her. Peter was staring down at the locket still held between her fingers, his face thoughtful.

"Would I have been an Earl too?"

"I suppose so.....yes."

"Would I have met you if I was an Earl?"

"Oh no....we never would have met...I'm too far down the social scale for you to have noticed me."

"Then I'm quite glad I'm not an Earl......because I would have hated to miss out on knowing you Wendy."

Not bothering to work out the illogical reasoning behind his statement, Wendy could only thread her fingers through his short curls and pull his head down to her.

"Then I'm glad you're not an Earl as well."

With exquisite sweetness, Wendy kissed him, the locket laying between them as Peter cradled her head in his hands, his hands tilting her head to slant his mouth across hers, deepening the kiss. After several pleasurable minutes he lifted his head, pressing a kiss on the end of her nose as she sighed, her fingers toying with his ear while the other trailed down his cheek.

"When can we go home Peter?"

"Whenever you wish Wendy.....right now if it suits."

Biting her lip she traced the arch of his brow. "I think right now sounds perfect."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Chapter: Eleven - New Beginnings
Rating: R15 for naughty bits and violence, but nothing extreme or objectionable. (well I don't think so anyway)

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy sighed and ran her finger around the swirl of a knot in the wood grain of the table, her nail catching on a splinter as she thought about what she'd do next.

They had returned to Neverland that afternoon, arriving at the tree house almost breathless with anticipation. To Wendy's consternation a small contingent of fairies were awaiting them, their bell chime voices over-ringing each other in their eagerness to tell Peter something of great importance. Wendy found herself set on the ground and abandoned before she had a chance to open her mouth, Peter promising to return soon and flying off without a backwards glance.

Piqued out of all proportion, Wendy had taken herself off and up into the tree house, cross with herself for feeling so neglected when she knew that Peter had all of Neverland to take care of, not just herself.

After taking several deep breaths she felt calm enough to notice how untidy the room was, her fingers itching to set it to rights. After a moments hesitation she started to do just that until the air was filled with dust motes dancing in the sunshine as every surface received a thorough cleaning. After two hours of intense spring cleaning and several trips to the spring for hot water, Wendy plumped herself down on a gleaming chair and gazed around her. The tree house shone, not a single speck of dust daring to alight on the table top or shelves, the mattress well beaten and turned, the clothes in the chest sorted, washed, dried and folded, the cobwebs chased from the ceiling and the spiders banished back to the jungle.

Her chores exhausted Wendy sat down at the table and contemplated what to do next. Her dress felt dusty and damp, not really suitable for the tropical climate with its high neck and long skirts. What she needed was a bath.

Picking the pins out of her hair, she allowed it to fall about her shoulders and down her back, several tendrils sticking to her hot forehead. Climbing down the ladder she flipped the freshly washed towels over her shoulder and pushed open the bark door, sighing as she wriggled her toes in the cool leaf litter before heading towards the hot pool and a well deserved soak.

On reaching the bank she struggled to release the buttons securing her dress at the back, wriggling to free herself, almost tearing it in her frustration. Next came her undergarments, the pile of clothes growing as she untied, unbuttoned and stepped out of her former life like a snake shedding its skin. When finally she stood as naked as Eve, she stepped into the pool, sinking up to her shoulders and sighing in bliss, tilting her head back to allow her hair to float on the surface like golden seaweed. Luxuriating in the warmth, Wendy shut her eyes, drifting in her thoughts, daydreaming as steam curled around her head.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter crouched down, a swarm of fairies darting around his head as he peered into the hollow tree, the interior brightly lit by more fairies crowding round a tiny bed.

"What happened?" Peter asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

In the bed lay a fairy, her tiny body wracked with shudders, a gossamer cover drawn up to hide the worst of the tiny creatures grievous wounds.

"She was caught by him and tortured."

Peter's lips thinned into a grim line as the fairy moved restlessly on the bed, the cover slipping and revealing the stumps of her wings.

"Will she survive?" He asked bleakly, swallowing hard.

"No...a fairy without wings...." Peter glanced to the side and saw his tiny escort shrug, her own wings fluttering in sympathy.

"What did he want to know?"

"Where you were....what you were doing....where you lived..."

"I see....I'm so sorry...." Peter whispered, feeling his eyes start to prickle as the fairy on the bed turned her head to look at him, her light growing fainter by the second. Lifting his hand he extended his fingers and gently touched the bed with one, the dying fairy clasping the tip of his finger, acknowledging his regret for her suffering, her tiny hands dropping away as her light finally faded to nothing, taking her life with it.

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, Peter removed his hand and watched as the remaining fairies clustered around the bed, hiding their dead companion from his view. Turning away Peter slumped against the tree trunk, biting his lip, blinking away the threatening tears. Dashing his hand against his eyes he climbed to his feet and turned to leave. One of the fairies flew into his face, halting him.

"Our sister was cruelly treated and suffered greatly....she held out for as long as she could but finally succumbed. She told him where you lived Pan."

"I know.......I will have to kill him, not only for this but for all his past crimes. Hook's tyranny can not be allowed to continue."

"Good luck Pan.....much will be riding on the outcome."

Smiling grimly, Peter ran a few steps then launched himself into the air, quickly climbing to clear the trees then swooping around and heading for the coast.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Lifting her hands out of the water, Wendy noticed they were heavily wrinkled. Sighing she twisted her hair to remove most of the water before rising to her feet and climbing out of the pool, her limbs deliciously relaxed, her skin steaming in the cooler air of the late afternoon. Picking up a towel she wiped down her legs and arms, not bothering to cover her body as she squeezed more water out of her long hair. Dropping the soaked towel she picked up the dry one and started to mop the water from her torso. With her hair draped over one shoulder, Wendy partially wrapped the damp towel around her chest before bending down to collect her clothes together.

"What a delightful sight......a siren me thinks, rising from the waves in all her golden glory." Hook's voice behind her made Wendy start violently, the clothes tumbling to the ground as she clutched the towel more firmly to her chest, wishing wholeheartedly that it was three times the size.

Mutely she faced the pirate captain, her body breaking out in goose bumps as she struggled to stop the blush suffusing her skin, her efforts quite futile as she turned pink from top to toe.

"Quite delightful..." Hook murmured appreciatively as he circled Wendy, amused at her attempts to hide her charms with the inadequate scrap of material, her efforts quite irrelevant considering Hook had been watching her for some time.

"Go away!" Wendy hissed, turning on the spot as Hook paced past her, keeping her towel covered front facing him.

"Oh I don't think so m'dear. I went to so much trouble to find out where dear Peter Pan lived, and now I find you here as well....I'm hardly likely to just leave because you ask me to," grinning broadly, Hook stepped towards Wendy, making her step back hurriedly, her heel hitting the rocks edging the pool, forcing her to halt her retreat.

"What do you want?" Wendy demanded, her embarrassment turning to anger despite her vulnerable position.

"What do I want? Well...let's start with Peter Pan's head on a stake...or maybe I'll settle for his humiliation...then his head on a stake."

"You'll never defeat Peter....he'll kill you for this."

"He might try....but I've been dead before and come back....who's to say, this time I might kill Pan....after all, I'm not handicapped," Hook raised his two hands, wafting them in the air at Wendy making her flinch back. "And I have an advantage that is sure to make Peter act very rashly."

"What advantage?"

"You." With the speed of a striking snake, Hook snagged Wendy's arm, pulling her forward until she stood breast to breast with him, the gold frogging on his coat digging into her soft skin above the towel as his other hand wrapped around the back of her neck, burying itself in her wet hair, holding her still as she fought to free herself.

"As the boy hasn't seen fit to introduce you to the pleasures of the flesh, it's only fitting that I take you in hand....so to speak."

With one hand still frantically maintaining her flimsy covering, Wendy lashed out with her other fist, her fingers curved into talons as she attempted to rake her nails against his face. Seeing the move, Hook jerked his head out of the way, letting go of her upper arm and seizing her wrist, his other hand pinching the nape of her neck causing her to cry out.

"Little she-devil....." Hissing as he blocked her leg from coming up and kneeing him in the groin, Hook tilted her head back, the pull on her hair bringing tears to her furious eyes as he bent his head and captured her lips with his own, almost immediately ending the kiss when she bit him.

"Do that again and I'll break your arm." Hook whispered against her cheek, licking the blood from his bottom lip. Squeezing her wrist, he applied enough force to make Wendy sag against him, pain temporarily robbing her of the will to fight. Taking advantage of the lull, he once more captured her parted lips with his own, grinding his mouth against hers, her body shaking as he demanded her surrender.

"LET HER GO!"

Peter's angry shout ended Wendy's ordeal, Hook sending her flying, shoving her towards the ground where she landed heavily, the towel forgotten as she put her hands out to break her fall. Panting she tried to drag herself away, Hook's fist catching her on the side of the head, stunning her.

"You bastard, you didn't have to hit her!" Peter cried out, drawing his sword from its scabbard with a menacing hiss.

"Can't have her crawling away and hiding....once I dispose of you, I intend introducing the fair Wendy to the pleasure of the flesh...my flesh, to be exact."

"Over my dead body!" Peter declared, brandishing his sword, sunlight glinting off the wicked blade.

"My thoughts exactly." Hook drawled, drawing his own weapon and slashing it through the air with dexterity.

Icy blue met stormy green as the two antagonists circled the small clearing beside the pool, steam rising to diffuse the afternoon sun, giving the glade an ethereal quality, Hook and Pan prepared to fight to the death.

Hook feinted and Peter blocked, the blades sliding against each other as each tested the reach of the other. They circled each other, Hook switching the blade from his right to his left, intending to confuse Peter, but to no avail, his slash blocked by the hilt of Peter's sword then thrust away as they looked for a weakness. With a swift combination of blows, Peter drove Hook back, the pirate defending himself with aplomb, using two hands to block Peter's furious lunges, both breathing hard from the concentrated attack.

"Is that the best you can do Pan?" Hook jeered, pressing his own attacked, forcing Peter to step back and block a vicious downward slash. "You're nothing but a boy, Pan...." Lunging forward Hook tried to spit Peter on his blade, the edge sliding past Peter's ribs leaving a bright ribbon of blood in its wake.

"First blood to me Pan....not so cocky now, are we."

"You talk too much Hook....trying to buy time?"

Baring his teeth, Hook swung his blade, Peter blocking the move, the hilts locking together as they fought for supremacy, Peter's muscles cording as Hook threw his weight behind the wrestle, the blades mere inches from each other's faces as they tousled.

With a sudden twist Hook forced the hilt of his sword upwards, landing a blow on Peter's jaw, forcing them to separate, blood trickling from the corner of Peter's mouth as he sidled to avoid Hook's back swing.

"You've lost boy.....admit it, I'm too strong for you...I always was!"

"Never...!" Peter ground out, blocking Hook's next blow, the force felt right along his arm and into his back. Pressing his advantage, Hook drew a small knife from his belt, feinting to distract Peter he suddenly dropped his guard, Peter pushing forward only to find Hook's knife buried in his side, Peter staring in surprise into Hook's eyes as he felt hot blood soak his shirt.

"You're finished Pan.....dead.....history...." Hook grinned at his opponent, seeing fear flash in Peter's eyes as they darkened.

"NO!" Wendy's scream surprised them both, Hook not seeing the branch that crashed down on his head, knocking him senseless before his body hit the ground.

Peter stood for a second before dropping heavily to his knees, his eyes wide with shock as his life blood dripped steadily between his fingers.

Standing over them both, still brandishing the branch, Wendy stared down at the fallen pirate, ready to hit him again if he stirred.

"Wendy...." Peter's voice pulled her out of her fixation, her numb fingers dropping the branch before she dropped to her knees in front of Peter, her body shaking in reaction.

Seeing the blood Wendy paled, her hand coming up to press against her mouth to still the scream fighting for release. Mentally shaking herself, she concentrated on the knife still protruding from Peter's side, his body swaying as he fought to remain conscious.

"Wendy.....Wendy...." Peter tried to speak, his thoughts becoming fuzzy.

"Don't talk Peter....we have to stop the bleeding...oh God..." Swallowing hard, Wendy scrabbled for the towel, dithering for a moment before taking hold of the knife hilt, her eyes meeting his as she hesitated. Receiving a tiny nod, she grasped the hilt more tightly and pulled, the blade slipping out of Peter's side, his accompanying groan bringing tears to her eyes.

"Hold this against the wound Peter.....press hard, as hard as you can."

Peter paled further, his lips almost blue as he tried to make his trembling hand hold the towel to his side.

"Wendy...I don't think......I'm going to....I'm sorry..." With a sigh, Peter's eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed back on the ground, his hand releasing the towel as Wendy tried to catch him.

"No...oh no...Peter....PETER!" Picking up the towel, Wendy pressed it against his bloody side, her hands becoming coated in Peter's blood as she fought to stop the bleeding.

Biting her lip she maintained her hold, tears dripping unnoticed down her face, watching Peter's chest rise and fall, her own breath leaving her body in harsh gasps as she fought against the panic rising in her throat.

"Please don't die....please.....I love you...don't die....." Sobbing hysterically, Wendy kept the cloth pressed to Peter's side, her head coming down to rest on his chest, her hair covering them both as she knelt naked beside him listening to his erratic heartbeat.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hook moaned, wincing as light stabbed his eyes, his head pounding as he grimaced. Attempting to lift his hand, he found himself bound tightly, hands behind his back, ankles tied and pulled behind his body, attached to his wrists by a length of rope causing his back to arch as he tried to relieve the tension.

Shaking his black hair out of his eyes, Hook lifted his head to look around, finding himself trussed and laying on what appeared to be a rubbish heap at the bottom of a large tree. Squinting upwards he could make out a light coming from a window far above his head, stars just visible through the canopy of trees. Next to his head someone had left a lantern, the light making him wince as it exacerbated the pain throbbing in his head.

"Blackguards....untie me....do ya hear me, UNTIE ME!"

Staring up at the light he saw a shadow pass in front of the window. Seconds later a figure came around the trunk of the tree and stood just beyond the lantern's circle of light. Hook squinted but couldn't tell if it was a male or a female regarding him from the shadows.

"Free me, dammit!" Hook snarled, glaring at the figure.

"No."

Surprise at the cold denial as well as the gender of the speaker Hook paused before an unpleasant smile crossed his features.

"W-e-n-d-y.." Hook drawled. "That was a sneaky trick coming up from behind to brain a fellow.....worthy of a pirate, m'dear."

"You are not worthy of anything...comfortable, are we?"

"Not a bit....be a good girl and loosen these bonds, I can't feel my fingers."

"No."

Stepping forward, her face cast in deep shadows, Wendy stared down at the pirate captain, no trace of sympathy or pity in her expression. Hook regarded her with some surprise, her usually pretty face drawn in lines of fatigue and worry, her hair scraped back from her face, highlighting her tense features. Raising a sardonic black eyebrow, Hook lay back against the refuse heap, his hands working behind his back to loosen the ropes.

"So is he still alive?...Or is this new look because you are mourning his passing?"

Wendy stared down at Hook with her face carefully blank, her arms folded across her chest. She had donned a black silk shirt and breeches, securing a wide leather belt around her hips to hold a sword and dagger, her feet encased in black leather half boots elaborately decorated with stitching.

"If Peter was dead, so would you be....a heartbeat behind him."

"Then the brat lives....but for how long? Are you prepared to take his place ? Is that why you are dressed like that ? Hardly a fetching ensemble for the drawing room."

"But quite a suitable ensemble for dealing with a cruel and ruthless pirate, not worth the skin he hangs in."

"Such plain speaking Wendy.....me thinks you'd make a fine pirate yourself."

Smiling grimly Wendy stepped around Hook, careful to keep her distance, well aware that Hook deserved respect for the formidable pirate he'd been, despite being trussed like a beast.

"Peter will decide your fate Hook.....and until he is fully recovered, you will remain a prisoner."

"Here? This is a rubbish heap!" Hook retorted, his eyebrows rising to his hairline. "Untie me wench and I'll pretend you haven't been treating me so poorly...I'll even offer you a place on my new crew."

A harsh laugh erupted from Wendy, her boot kicking an rotten fruit rind against Hook's coat front. "Your crew? You'll never see the ocean again, let alone a ship. You have hurt all the people you are going to hurt in this lifetime. If I had my way, you'd be banished to a deserted island to live out the remainder of your miserable existence alone and done for....but Peter will be your judge, so pray he's in a generous mood, for if he dies, I certainly won't be. But for now.....sleep well."

Not waiting for a reply, Wendy bent down and picked up the lantern, blowing out the candle and plunging Hook into darkness.

"You can't leave me here like this? Free me you witch......NOW!"

Without a backward glance Wendy rounded the tree, her stoic facade crumbling once she was out of his sight, collapsing against the trunk as the lantern slipped from her fingers. Trembling violently she pressed her fingers to her mouth to stifle her sobs. It had taken every scrap of her strength to face down Hook, her stomach doing somersaults as she waited for her legs to stop shaking. Dragging in a deep breath she pushed herself away from the tree and staggered to the doorway, climbing the stairs and crawling across the floor to where Peter lay, pale faced and insensible, on the mattress. Exhausted, Wendy heeled off the boots, the wadding falling out as they skidded across the floor boards, then stripped off the shirt and breeches, tugging on a long nightshirt. Once more comfortable, her limbs no longer shaking, Wendy knelt next to Peter and placed her hand on his face, stroking the downy cheek and tracing the outline of his jaw. His skin felt cool against her fingers, no sign of a fever, just his continuing, worrying, state of unconsciousness.

As she sat looking down at him, Wendy wondered how she'd managed to do all she'd done since the fight at the pool, her arms starting to ache, her eyes shutting despite her best efforts to stay awake. Crawling onto the mattress she lay down beside him, her hand finding his, their fingers entwining as she snuggled against his undamaged side. Despite her exhaustion she lay listening to his breathing, her thoughts going back to the pool and the fight, her breath hitching as she recalled her grief, thinking Peter dead, her hands covered in his blood.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After a few minutes of panic stricken weeping, Wendy had raised her head, wiping her eyes on her arms, her hand still pressed against Peter's side. His heart was still beating strongly, his chest rising and falling, giving her hope. Tossing her hair out of the way she looked over at the pirate laying close by, Hook's face smoothed of its usually cynical lines, his forehead marred by a trickle of blood from the blow to his head. Thinking furiously, Wendy reached for a rock, jamming it against the bloody towel to keep it in place before rising to her feet. Looking down at herself she had to stifle a hysterical giggle, her formerly clean body covered in streaks of blood and dirt, her hands positively gory. Lurching to the steaming pool she washed off the worst, biting her lip as she scrubbed to stop a further flow of tears, her mind turned to how she was going to get Peter back to the tree house.

First she got back into her dress, only fastening half of the buttons before running back to the tree and finding a length of rope. Returning to the glade she trussed Hook as efficiently as possible, thanking her brother John for the summer spent creating and testing different knots to use when playing pirates and Indians. With Hook incapacitated, Wendy turned her attention to Peter. He lay exactly as she'd left him, her hand seeking out his heartbeat, feeling light headed when it remained regular, pulsing encouragingly beneath her fingertips. She was just starting to worry how she was going to get him to the tree house when a tiny spark of light appeared, darting across the surface of the pond to hover over Peter, its bright light showing up the dark shadows bruising Peter's face. After inspecting Peter the fairy flew up and flitted into Wendy's face, her voice chiming loudly.

Shaking her head in frustration at not understanding the sprite, Wendy pleaded with the fairy instead."Please, you have to help me....Peter's been hurt...badly. I have to get him to the tree house....."

Despite not being able to speak the creatures language, the fairy seemed to understand what Wendy was asking, her wings fluttering quickly, shedding fairy dust all along Peter's prone body. Wendy stared as Peter's body appeared gilded in gold from head to toe, the fairy finishing her dusting and flying back to indicate for Wendy to try and lift him. Knowing the ability of fairy dust to make a person as light as air, Wendy cautiously hooked her arms behind Peter's legs and back, his body lifting effortlessly, almost completely weightless in her arms. With Peter's uninjured side pressed against her chest and his arm about her neck, she trekked back to the tree house, the fairy helping with a plentiful supply of the enchanted dust. Once there, she stripped Peter and found a shirt she could cut up for bandages, as well as remembering the cloth he'd found on the Jolly Roger. Fashioning a pad from another clean towel she wadded it and secured it, wrapping it tightly against the wound after cleaning up the worst of the blood. She then redressed him in a long nightshirt, the white lace only highlighting his bloodless features, his lips still looking faintly blue in the uncertain light of the candles. With Peter settled, Wendy signaled for the fairy to follow her, the sprite hovering over Peter for a moment before zipping past Wendy and out of the tree. Outside, girl and fairy returned to the glade where Hook still lay, bound tightly. Again the creature sprinkled her dust over the pirate, putting in a tiny kick to the captain's nose when she passed his face and tugging hard on a lock of black hair, her victim quite unaware of the fairies efforts to extract revenge against him.

With Hook, Wendy just grasped the foot of one boot, dragging the Captain along the ground, albeit he weighed nothing at all, her anger squashing all twinges of sympathy as Hook collected dirt and leaves in his journey across the forest floor. Careful not to touch any part of him except his boot, Wendy dumped the unconscious pirate on the midden, taking some satisfaction from that. The fairy seemed to share her view, submitting Hook to a series of pinches and fairy sized punches before leaving him with a parting kick and following Wendy back to the tree house.

The sun was fast disappearing, clouds starting to creep across the sky as Wendy wearily climbed the ladder to the room above, the fairy buzzing about her head as she tottered over to the mattress to stare down at Peter. As she stood there something struck her foot, drawing her attention away from Peter's pale face. As her eyes flickered to her extraordinarily grubby feet another droplet struck the sensitive skin on the top, splashing beside the previous one. Curious, Wendy stared as the drip ran off between her toes, another one joining it, then another until she realized she was crying without realizing it. Lifting her hand she touched her cheek, surprised to find it wet. With the realization she was crying, the floodgates opened and she sank down on the floor-boards, her hands covering her face as she wept, the fairy darting around her head and chiming softly in sympathy.

When her sobs reduced to hitching gasps, she dragged herself up and splashed her face liberally with cold water before striping off her soiled dress, casting it into the corner before rummaging for a change of clothes. No knowing how long Hook would be unconscious, she dressed with a view to facing the pirate captain, choosing a black silk shirt and breeches, along with a pair of fine boots, several sizes too large that she stuffed with some cloth to stop them falling off her feet. Then she scraped back her hair, knotting it behind her head before plaiting it and tying it off with a leather thong. Satisfied that she presented a suitably severe image, Wendy found a wide belt, also black, which she belted around her hips before slipping one of the rapiers into the scabbard, along with one of Peter's stiletto knives. The fairy had retreated to one of the rafters, watching Wendy's actions with curiosity, her tiny chin propped on her hands.

With her costume complete, Wendy sat down beside Peter, checking his forehead for any sign of a fever, and his bandages for any sign of further bleeding. Satisfied that he was no worse, if not any better, Wendy prepared herself to wait, the stars starting to appear above the forest prompting her to light several of the lanterns. After an hour of restless pacing and the night fully dark outside, Wendy ventured outside, taking one of the lanterns. Carefully she stepped around the tree in her borrowed boots and approached the dark outline on the rubbish heap, the circle of light glinting off the gold braid decorating Hook's clothes. He appeared to still be unconscious, the trickle of blood on his face long since dried, now the colour of his hair. Dispassionately Wendy stared down at him for a long moment before setting the lantern down near to his head then she turned on her heel and walked away.

An hour later she heard him shout.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy finally slipped into a troubled sleep, Hook having shouted himself hoarse, his cries ignored by anyone near enough to hear, her fingers still entwined with Peters'.

The fairy, forgotten up in the rafters, waited for silence to once more descend on the tree house before fluttering down and landing on the rough planking. As soon as she touched the floor her outline blurred and appeared to grow, the gold light swelling then fading to leave behind the familiar nut brown figure of Kirano standing in his loin cloth and shell beads, his top knot as shiny and black as ever.

Moving slowly so that his ankle shells wouldn't rattle, Kirano stood over the young couple on the bed, his hand reaching out to pass over Peter's head and down his body, pausing for a second over the stark white bandage before carrying on.

Satisfied that the wound was healed, Kirano stared for a moment at Wendy's tear-stained face, his mouth twisting into a grimace of sympathy for her heartache.

His purpose fulfilled, Kirano turned away from the bed and sat cross legged by the window, the chirp of cicada's masking the faint croaking from the man below.

Smiling to himself Kirano shut his eyes, his hands held loosely in his lap as his outline faded into the shadows.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter awoke with a start, his eyes popping open as he lay listening to his heart pound, his pulse drumming in his ears. After a few seconds he calmed down, blinking up at the thatched roof, trying hard to recall his last memory before the blackness. It was starting to get light outside the tree house, his eyes darting to the window and able to make out the outline of the trees. He felt something constricting his chest and lifted his hand to explore, feeling the thick bandage surrounding his mid-section and the wad of padding tied to his side. Tentatively pressing, he felt no pain, further prodding also proving painless. Puzzled he turned his head and found Wendy asleep beside him, on her side and facing him. She looked tired even as she slept, her beloved features drawn with a fine line between her brows. When he tried to lift his other hand he found it entwined with hers, their fingers meshed together as if sealed, flesh to flesh.

Peter smiled as he stared at her, noting her almost translucent skin and the dark shadows under her eyes. He saw her lashes quiver, her eyes starting to dart behind the lids as she too swam up towards awakening.

"Wendy...."

Peter's whisper penetrated the disturbing dream Wendy had been having, his voice drawing her out of the dream world and into the real one. His fingers squeezed hers, reassuring her and making her lips curve into a smile before her memory rushed in with a sickening jolt and her smile faded. Opening her eyes she stared anxiously at him.

"Peter....your side....are you in pain?"

"No.....I feel....fine. Why am I bandaged like this?"

The line between Wendy's brows suddenly deepened. "You were stabbed...Hook had a knife...there was so much blood."

This time it was Peter who frowned, his free hand coming up to prod at the bandage, "well it certainly doesn't hurt....maybe its all healed?"

"Peter....wounds like that...they don't heal over night...at least....I don't think they do..." Wendy felt hope start to creep over her, her fears for him cast away as she inspected him. He looked just as he always did, tanned and vibrant with life, his lips no longer blue, his eyes no longer shadowed underneath. "Why don't we take a look....if you truly say there's no pain."

Levering herself upright, Peter did the same, lifting the nightshirt at the side to allow her to unwind the linen around his chest, the padding dropping away and revealing a blood stain at its center. Of the injury there was only a puckered purple scar, the skin sealed over as if from an old wound long healed.

In wonder Wendy touched the mark, her fingers shaking a little as she explored his side. "It was here Peter...I-I pulled the blade out myself."

Tucking his head, Peter peered down at his skin, his own fingers brushing over the slight imperfection, another to add to his catalog of battle scars. Their heads came up at the same time and their eyes met, Wendy's' with awe and Peter's with acceptance. He shrugged, grinning at Wendy as she stared round eyed at his torso before he dropped the hem of the nightshirt, concealing the expanse of bronzed skin.

"I don't understand Peter.....you were...I....we....I don't..."

"Whatever happened, I'm all better now.....why have you scraped all your hair off your face?"

Wendy put up a self conscious hand, feeling the tendrils of hair which had escaped during the night, the rest screwed back into the tight plait. "Oh....I had to face Hook.....so..."

"Hook!?"

"He's down there," Wendy pointed to the window, the dawn light now strong enough to see the outside clearly. Getting to his feet Peter padded over to the wide window, leaning out to peer downwards. Wendy scrambled to her feet and went over to join him, unable to prevent a gasp of surprise when the morning light revealed no sign of Hook on the rubbish heap below.

"He was there....I tied him.....hogtied him securely...there was no way he could have escaped." Wendy told Peter, staring down in disbelief.

"Well....he'd not down there....so unless he crawled away....."

"No...I had his hands tied to his feet, he couldn't move."

Peter stared at Wendy sceptically.

"Well, he's gone now."

Wendy pulled herself back and turned to face Peter, confused and a little alarmed.

"If he escaped he would have come up here....if only to gloat then finish you off......it's what he threatened to do.."

"We'll find out what happened.....but he's gone now."

"But....but..."

"It's early, why don't we....er....get some more rest." Linking his hand with her's, Peter tugged her away from the window and back to the mattress, pulling her down until she sat beside him, her expression still abstracted as she puzzled over Hook's disappearance.

In an effort to distract her, Peter reached over and started to fiddle with the twist of leather holding the end of the plait, his fingers deftly undoing the knot before threading his fingers into her long hair and unbraiding the tight plait, freeing the honey gold locks until they flowed down her back in their usual glory. Having plaited it when it was still damp, Wendy's hair now fluffed out with a distinct wave in it, Peter threading it through his fingers, enjoying its silky feel.

"I love your hair."

"Really?" Wendy asked, not paying attention. A tug brought her sharply back to the present and her head turned to look back at Peter who was grinning at her.

"I said I love your hair."

Blushing, Wendy smiled back at him. "Thank you Peter....I was getting a headache, it feels much better now."

Laying down on her side she faced him as he also lay down and rolled to face her.

"Wendy?"

"Yes Peter?"

"There's been so much happening...I haven't told you where I went yesterday.....we haven't talked about..."

"Where we go from here?"

"Uhuh."

"Where do you want us to go....er...be?"

"I want us to be....together."

"We are together Peter.....I came back with you so we could be..together."

"I know...I mean......I want to be.....everything, to you."

"You are Peter...."

"No Wendy...." Peter stopped, frustrated that he couldn't seem to get the words right. Sudden inspiration made him scrabble for the chain around his neck. Finding it missing he stared wide eyed at Wendy.

"Oh....I took it off...when I....when I undressed you....er...last night." Blushing furiously, Wendy sat up and reached behind the mattress, lifting up the fine length of gold and passing it to Peter.

"That's good....I'd hate to think I fought Hook in a nightshirt." He teased, taking the chain and fiddling with the clasp. Hiding her red face against her bent knees, Wendy didn't see what he was doing until he tugged her around and back down onto the mattress to face him again.

"Wendy....I know we don't have anyone to marry us here in Neverland...nobody official...but I want to marry you, I want us to be together...I want it all."

Not waiting for a reply, Peter grabbed Wendy's left hand and slipped the gold ring onto her third finger, the ring fitting as if was made for her, only then daring to look up and see her reaction to his impulsive declaration.

Wendy appeared dumbstruck, her eyes huge in her face, a tear snaking its way down her temple as she stared at the gold band encircling her finger. Taking her silence the wrong way, Peter felt his heart stop, his tentative smile fading as Wendy continued to stare at the ring. Suddenly unsure, he felt his stomach churning, certain that he'd botched everything and she was shocked at his proposal. Unable to bear the suspense he rolled over and buried his face in her hair, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly.

"Please say yes....please, please, please...."

Finally finding her voice, Wendy gave him the only answer she knew she could.

"Yes Peter....I will marry you....I want it all too."

Saying the words that would commit her to be his, and his alone, freed something in Wendy's chest and she laughed out loud, her arms returning Peter's hug with one just as fierce. Having come so close to losing him, she was not about to waste another moment.

Hearing her gurgle of laughter, Peter raised his head from her neck and stared at her a trifle uncertainly.

"Yes?"

"Yes!"

"Sure?"

"Absolutely."

As if the sun was rising in his face, Peter smiled, his eyes dancing as Wendy returned the smile with a blinding one of her own, her blue eyes no longer sad or haunted but full of love and something Peter couldn't define.

"Does this make me your husband now?"

"Yes."

"Sure?"

"Oh yes."

"Good...because I've been wanting to do this since I woke up."

Rolling them over so that Wendy lay beneath him, Peter leant down and covered her mouth with his own, tentatively at first but with growing surety as Wendy parted her lips to welcome him, her hands coming up to cradle his head, her fingers combing through his short curls and driving him to distraction as he kissed her heatedly.

Having his arms full of warm, willing Wendy and his mouth pleasantly occupied, provoked a now familiar reaction from his body, his flesh hardening between them as he lay on top of her, her legs parting beneath her night shirt to accommodate him even as he shifted restlessly against her.

Feeling his bodies reaction to her, Wendy felt a growing sense of power, a heat starting to suffuse her body with the knowledge that she could provoke such ardor, her back arching to press her closer to him, against him, making him gasp and moan against her mouth with the delightful friction despite them both still being, if not fully, at least partially clothed.

Gasping as Wendy moved beneath him, Peter raised his head and stared down at her flushed face, his eyes dark with excitement and need, her own sparkling with an answering need, provoking another sound from him.

Wendy felt a thrill shiver through her when Peter growled low in his throat and buried his mouth against her neck, nipping and suckling as his lower body moved against her, pressing his hardness against her belly, heat spiraling down to pool in her abdomen making her squirm and sigh and want something more. She squeaked when she felt Peter's hand burrow under her shirt, seeking and finding her breasts, brushing over the sensitive nipples making them leap into life, her mouth dropping open even as her eyes slammed shut, heightening the sensations swamping her. Her own hands were suddenly busy, pulling up Peter's night shirt and running all over the hard muscles of his back and shoulders, the shirt ending up discarded on the floor and her fingers exploring the satin smoothness of his skin where ever she could reach. Peter had bunched up her own shirt under her chin, his mouth exploring her chest and making her heart pound as his mobile lips latched onto a pert nipple, sending lances of lightning into her belly and between her legs.

Pulling the nightshirt over her head she sent it to join his on the floor, leaving her skin to skin with a very aroused Peter, her bodies response to his ardent, if inexperienced love making, leaving her melting and boneless as a spring started to tighten inside her, her chest heaving as she strained for something unknown in her experience, her body knowing the way even as Peter's hands found the source, his touch sending her over the edge so that she clutched him close, shaking and shivering against him, her eyes squeezed tight as she panted against his shoulder.

A little startled at her reaction to his tentative exploration between her legs, Peter stilled his movements and stared down at Wendy's flushed face, the blush extending down her neck and chest as she panted beneath him.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

Still not sure what had just happened to her, but enjoying the bliss and bone melting lassitude, Wendy could only smile up at him as she waited for her heart to stop pounding in her chest.

"You.....didn't.....hurt....me.....Peter."

"Oh......but I only.....are you sure?"

"Oh yes....very sure." Dreamily, Wendy watched his frown turn to a smug smile with the realization that what he'd done had made her feel good, maybe in a similar way that he made himself feel good when he touched himself. Please that he'd made her happy, his fingers started to move against her again, stroking and exploring as Wendy lay relaxed and boneless beneath him.

"I'm glad...," said Peter, his own body starting to get restless, wanting its own completion even as he waited for some signal from Wendy. Almost intuitively Wendy parted her legs and tilted her pelvis, pressing herself against him in an open invitation as he moved against her. Lifting himself up slightly he repositioned himself, his body aligning with hers as his hardened flesh encountered her slick entrance, his eyes closing as Wendy wrapped her arms around him and urged him forward. Slowly but surely he slipped inside her, her body both open and unbearably tight around him, wringing a groan from his throat as he paused, only partially encased in her, something preventing him from going further. Lifting his head he opened his eyes, asking a question without voicing it, her own replying without a word passing her kiss swollen lips. With a bunching of muscles, he pulled back slightly before thrusting forward, burying himself deeply inside her, her back arching to meet him even as his mouth swallowed her cry of pain at the breech of her body. Overwhelmed with the feeling of being inside her, surrounded and swallowed whole by her body, Peter could only shudder against her, his hot forehead resting against her breast as he panted to regain some measure of control. Lifting his head he started to move, withdrawing a little way only to plunge back in, his body too long held on a knife edge to last more than a few strokes before exploding inside her, his hips jerking and thrusting as he emptied his essence into her, collapsing not long after to lay panting and flushed in her embrace.

Wendy cradled him against her breast, her hand petting his head as he cuddled her, their bodies still joined as each floated on the edge of bliss, hearts beating in rhythm as they lay chest to chest.

Realizing belatedly that he was probably squashing her, Peter made to roll to the side but Wendy kept hold and rolled with him, keeping them joined, legs and arms entwined as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"That was......wonderful." Peter breathed, his fingers brushing over the s