started 21/6/04-finished 4/3/05

Title: Whither By Moonlight
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: One - Love under glass
Rated: R15 - for adult situations(sex)
Synopsis: What do you do when the past arrives and kidnaps your future.
Pairing: W/O, W/P.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Author's Note: There were several comments that my last story was rather "tame". So hang onto your socks, my muse decided to spice things up. Not entirely sure where I'm going with this smut biscuit, but I'm sure my muse has something up her sleeve, else why put this scene into my lust crazed brain in the first place. Fluff, smut and angst abound. oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The dark figure peered around the window frame, his strangely luminescent eyes narrowed as he tried to see within the room through the chink in the curtains. On this moonless night he was invisible against the soot stained brickwork, his long fingers gripping the rough edge of stone as he leaned further forward to see better.

Hissing in frustration he placed one hand against the glass, his breath fogging the pane as he pressed closer. A flicker of movement was his only warning before someone pulled the curtains back wide, light flooding out of the room and spilling over the figure hurriedly backing away. The next moment the window was opening and sound, which had been muted before, washed outwards, carrying with it an assortment of strange perfumes. Candlewax, flowers and sweat wafted out to the figure now flattened against the outer wall, his nose twitching as he breathed in. Music spilled out and teased his senses, the rhythm lilting and almost irresistible, his toes involuntarily tapping as the strains of a waltz drew him back to the opening and the room beyond. The sound of voices, indistinct as individuals, also reached out to him, his ears straining to filter one voice from the many, his head tilting as he closed his eyes to concentrate better. It was the same technique he used when hunting animals in the jungle, his ability to shut out the sound of the wind and birds and hear the creature breathing or treading delicately across the forest floor netting him a successful kill every time. Now his acuity was focused on finding just one voice, its timbre as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. As he listened the music drew to a stop and a polite round of glove-muffled applause sounded before the rustle of clothes as people left the dance floor, crossing the polished parquet to obtain refreshments in readiness for the next set. The level of chatter rose and the listener knitted his brow in a vain attempt to find the voice. Suddenly he felt a quiver run down his spine as the one he'd been seeking approached the window, his eyes opening as he turned his head to see two shadows fall across the window sill. The woman's gauzy scarf fluttered out a little way, carrying with it the scent of its owner. Breathing deeply Peter edged closer to the embrasure, his fingers twitching to reach out and grasp the delicate fabric but the voice halted him, freezing him to the bricks as if he'd been nailed there.

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"Thank you Steven.....a drink would be most appreciated, I don't think I've had time to pause since I arrived."

"Little wonder.....you are the prettiest girl in the room, and the best dancer, no surprise that every male present wants you for a partner," the man leant down, his lips close to the woman's ear, "but they court you in vain, my love...for I have already claimed you for my own."

Looking up, her eyes shining, Wendy Darling accepted the light kiss that her betrothed pressed on her lips before he left her to procure a drink for them both. As she watched him thread his way through the crowded room, she sighed and snapped open her fan to cool herself, the window behind her letting in some much needed air into the hot assembly rooms. She sighed again, turning her head to look out of the window to the stars just discernible beyond the rooftops, the sky like black velvet scattered with diamonds. At nearly twenty, Wendy had fulfilled the promise of her youth, growing into a lovely young woman, her shapely figure currently encased in a stylish evening dress, her hair dressed on top of her head, tendrils of honey-coloured curls teased out to soften her face and neck. Her wide blue eyes and generous mouth drew glances of admiration from old and young, her poised exterior the very model of a proper young lady of her age. Raising a gloved hand to pat her flushed cheeks, she felt the hard edge of the ring under the thin cloth on her left hand. Spreading her fingers she could see the bump and her lips curved into a smile. She had been expecting Steven to propose and his declaration, after duly expressing his intentions to her father, was all that she could want. He'd proposed in the back parlour of her Aunt's home, getting down on his knee on the well-worn carpet, his slender fingers clasping hers, his dear face earnest as he declared his love for her and asked her to be his wife. Without a moments hesitation Wendy had agreed, his speedy rise to take her in his arms as satisfying as it was expected. Her family had wished them both happy and now, two weeks later, they were planning a June wedding, her mother and exaltant Aunt helping her organise everything necessary.

She was as happy as any girl in her situation had a right to be, she had a loving family, a betrothed who adored her, a future that beckoned with open arms.

Sighing again she snapped her fan shut and stared blindly out the half open window, a tiny crease appearing on her smooth forehead as a small pain stabbed her breast. For a girl who had everything, she was remarkably melancholy.

As she continued to stare, her eyes suddenly focused on something on the glass itself. Leaning forward, she narrowed her eyes and peered a little closer. If she was not mistaken there was a handprint on the window, very clear, as if recently made. Raising her own hand she pressed it against the glass, rubbing at the print. It didn't smear, so it must be on the outside. Spreading her hand she found that the handprint was broader than her own, obviously belonging to a man. Resting her hands on the window sill, she leant outwards, looking down the two floors to the road below. There were no balcony's for anyone to stand on, only the awning covering the entrance at street level. Her wrap was fluttering in the cool breeze funnelling up the building and a sudden gust tugged it away, the silk unravelling from around her arm and floating out of the window, up towards the dark sky above.

"Oh no......" the puzzle of the hand print forgotten, Wendy reached out for her scarf, nearly falling out of the window, only a hard arm around her waist preventing her.

"Wendy what are you doing?"

Pulled back inside and against the hard wall of Steven's shirtfront, Wendy laughed a little breathlessly.

"My scarf got caught and its gone over the roof tops."

"Hardly a good enough reason to throw yourself out the window sweeting."

"Silly.....I was doing no such thing." She turned in his arms and raised her eyes, smiling up at the handsome man who would soon be her husband. Grey eyes twinkled down at her, his grip on her waist turning into a caress as he dipped his head to kiss her.

"Steven.....stop, people are staring."

"Let them stare........you're my fiancee, not theirs."

Surrendering, Wendy gave up her lips to his kiss, his own teasing hers, her body quite inappropriately pressed the length of his. It was only a quick kiss but it set Wendy's senses tingling, her eyes bright when they parted. Steven handed her a glass of punch as they turned to survey the room and the dancers twirling around the floor. Several people were indeed staring, but they were indulgent rather than critical, well aware of the handsome couples' impending nuptials.

With their refreshments consumed, Wendy was once more led out onto the dance floor by her betrothed, her focus all on him, the handprint on the window forgotten.

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Peter heard the couple move away and he pressed the back of his head against the brick wall. His eyes tracked the path of the silk scarf as it twisted and turned, still caught in the air currents wafting over the roof tops. With a push, Peter launched himself after it, his slim body like a dart as he chased the scrap of material. Before it could touch any of the sooty tiles or greasy chimney pots, he snagged it out of the air, looping back and landing on the roof of the building he'd been outside of only moments before. In the dark, he couldn't see more than a pale blur, the fabric like water running through his fingers as he pulled it back and forth across his palms. Lifting it to his nose he breathed deeply, the perfume of its owner strong and sweet, overpowering the smell of smoke that was ever present in the London air. He sat there for long moments with the scarf covering his face, revelling in its soft feel and sweet scent. For a few seconds it blotted out the pain of what he'd heard and seen, his heart still hammering from being so close to her, nearly able to touch her when she leaned out, his hand halfway there when the man had returned and pulled her back inside. He closed his eyes to bring the image back, of her hands pressed to the window sill, her hair glinting with highlights as she leant forward.

If what he had heard was the truth, she had already forgotten about him, her love now given to another, her hidden kiss given away as readily as if Peter had never existed. His fist clenched, the scrap of material fluttering as his hand trembled. Peter screwed his eyes tight shut, his teeth bared as a hated feeling welled up inside him, its insidious tendrils making his heart beat erratically, the blood pulse in his veins. Of all the feelings Peter Pan could now feel, jealousy was the hardest to deal with, its by-product, rage, making him lash out a whatever or whoever was unfortunate to be near him when the feelings struck. Lately the rages had become more frequent, usually a direct result of his visits to the human world, the creatures and peoples of Neverland keeping well clear when Peter returned, the weather their only indication of when it was safe to approach him once more.

There had been a long period when Peter had not returned to the world he'd forsaken, too caught up in the changes his body was going through to venture beyond the boundaries of his world. He had wanted to return to the Darling house, if only to ask for help to understand the changes he was going through, but each time he'd made a start on that journey, his own fears had swamped him and he'd halted before the barrier, his maturing body keeping him fully occupied with its propensity to change its appearance along with other unsettling issues. Now it appeared to have halted its alarming changes, his voice had stopped squeaking and changing, his body had stopped growing.

With the cessation of his preoccupation with his body, he had turned his attention inwards, his feelings and emotions starting to take centre stage until he felt torn apart by conflicting desires and needs with no-one to tell him what was right or wrong, normal or abnormal.

All the turmoil had become focused on one objective, to find Wendy and ask her to help him. Afterall, she had started him on this journey, it was only right that she should help him complete it. The only problem was surmounting his own insecurities and fears born largely of ignorance. He had come back to London only a few days before, his reconnoitre of the Darling house quickly telling him that she was no longer living there on a permanent basis. By listening and following, he established where she was living but again his chaotic feelings kept him from taking the final step and approaching her. He felt awkward and unsure, desperate to make contact but fearful of rejection, maybe even denial. It had come as a shock when he'd first seen her, his mind at first refusing to believe that the graceful creature was in fact his Wendy of the Hidden Kiss. In the years since he'd last left her at her window, he thought of her often, but as she was then, a girl nearly thirteen. Now she was a grown woman and she took his breath away.

He'd followed her to this house, his curiosity piqued as to what she did when she went out. This night she had been accompanied by a man that Peter knew wasn't one of her brothers, his teeth gritting when the man had handed Wendy into the handsome cab before climbing in himself. Now he knew why the man had such a proprietary air around Wendy. The man was going to be Wendy's husband. Again the rage welled up in him, his body thrumming with anger and helplessness. All that Hook had taunted him with was coming true. She had forgotten him, had closed the window to him, had taken a husband.

But no, she hadn't taken him yet, there was still time.

Wrapping the silk around his forearm, Peter scrambled to his feet and launched himself off the tiles. Like a shadow he flew over the roof tops, his arms outspread, his long lean body dipping and swooping like a seal in the ocean as he made his way back to the house where Wendy lived.

Once there, he quickly found the window that opened onto her bedroom, his thoughts and plans still unformed but a kernel of an idea starting to curl around his brain. Her room was in darkness, her night dress and negligee laid out on the bed in readiness for her return. Cautiously he used his knife to jimmy the catch before pushing the window up, the curtains flapping around his face as he climbed through. He feet sank into the thick carpet, his toes curling as he padded across the floor to the bed, his fingers trailing over her belongings, smoothing the bed covers, picking up the book left open on her bedside. His fingers grazed over her night dress and again her perfume rose to meet him, his fingers sliding over the soft material, raising goosebumps on his arms as he gather it up and buried his face in the silky folds. It smelled of her. Dropping it back to the bed, he searched the room, briefly opening the door and poking his head out to find the corridor silent and dark. Back in her room he opened drawers, rifled her clothes, lifted the lid of the jars arrayed on her dressing table, sniffing and tasting as he explored the world Wendy inhabited. Against one wall stood an escritoire, its surface neatly arranged with ink pots and pens, crisp sheets of paper to one side waiting to be used. Opening all the drawers he found several bound sheafs of paper, like books without covers, Wendy's neat hand on the front-piece. Unable to read them in the dark, Peter could only run his fingers over the black lettering before returning them to the drawer. He found himself back at the bed and decided to lay down on it to wait. There was a decorative screen in the corner which he would hide behind when Wendy arrived home. His plans were still unclear, but he thought that he'd come up with something appropriate when the time came. As he settled into the downy covers, he crooked his arms behind his head, feeling enveloped by Wendy, his body relaxing as his thoughts ran along pleasant lines. Peter imagining her welcome when she saw him, her eagerness to go with him back to Neverland, her asking to give him a thimble again, only this time he'd know what she was asking and give her one back. With these delusions curving the corners of his mouth, Peter slipped into an untroubled sleep.

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Unaware of the surprise awaiting her, wendy lingered on the front steps of her Aunts house, her mouth happily engaged in kissing Steven goodnight, her body melting against his as he held her in his arms.

"I wish I could come in with you," Steven breathed, pressing kisses to her cheeks and nose, his heart beating a rapid tattoo, echoed by Wendy's as she returned his ardent embraces.

"Only a few more weeks my love.....be patient."

"I know.....I just.....I want..."

Wendy pulled back a little, smiling at his disappointed face. "I know...I want it too..."

"I'll see you tomorrow......at the regatta?"

"Pick me up at two...I'll be ready."

With a final kiss, Wendy turned to go, her hand lingering in his as she opened the door before parting from him and closing the door.

Steven stared at the wooden panels for a second before swinging around on his heel and jumping down the steps, whistling jauntily. Climbing into the waiting cab he instructed the driver to take him home.

Wendy walked tiredly up the stairs, stripping the gloves from her hands as she went. She'd enjoyed the evening, having danced every dance, more often than not with Steven holding her in his strong arms. With a smile curling her lips she paused outside her room, reaching up to raise the flame in the gas lamp before putting her hand on her door knob and twisting it open.

As she did so the door further down the hall opened and her Aunt's head appeared, her hair done up in papers as she pulled a woollen wrap more firmly around her narrow shoulders.

"Oh Wendy dear......you're back. How was your evening?"

"It was wonderful Aunt.....I danced every dance."

"That's nice dear......and Steven?"

"He was wonderful too....I'm going with him to the regatta tomorrow, so I won't be in for the afternoon. Was there anything you needed me for?"

"No..no, everything is running smoothly. Get yourself to bed dear, you must be tired."

"Thank you Aunt....I am. Goodnight, I hope you sleep well."

Impulsively, Wendy let go of the door and walked the few steps to her Aunts room, leaning forward to kiss the older woman on her wrinkled cheek before turning back to her own room and pushing the door open wide. For a moment she paused on the threshold, her fingers reaching up to unbutton her cape, her eyes unfocused, then she stepped purposefully into the room and reached for the matches to light the lamps. As the room brightened she closed the door and pulled off her cape, opening the cupboard door and hanging it on a hook. Turning around she stopped to toe off her shoes before sitting down at her dressing table and starting to pull out the pins holding her hair up. As she did so she hummed the strains of the waltz, her eyes staring off into the distance as her fingers sought and found the pins. As her hair tumbled down her back she reached for her brush and started to smooth the unruly locks into their usual gleaming selves, so long they reached almost to her waist, curling slightly at the ends. Satisfied that there were no tangles, she rose and started to unbutton her dress, requiring her to twist and stretch to reach each one before being able to step out of the it and drape it over the back of the chair. In just her chemise and petticoat, she sat on the end of the bed and lifted her knee to roll down her stockings. Leaving those filmy items on the floor she spent a few moments massaging her feet, working out the tendons in her toes, waggling her ankles to help relax her legs. Standing up again, she undid her petticoat and it dropped to the floor revealing her silk drawers. Scooping up the petticoat and stockings, she draped them over the back of the chair as well. Reaching her arms up, she stretched again, glad to be free of the clothes. She was wearing a light corset that laced at the front, her slender form not requiring the heavier whale bone contraptions. She slowly untied the ribbons until the corset was loose enough for her to shimmy it over her hips to the floor. Bending over she picked up the uncomfortable article of fashion and pushed it into a drawer, shutting it with a grimace. Free at last, Wendy padded over to her bed and inelegantly flopped down on her back, her limbs outspread over the coverlet, unwilling for the moment to finish her toilette.

She closed her eyes, allowing her tired body to relax into the softness of the bed, her fingers coming up to stroke the pillow beside her head as she revisited some of the highlights of the evening. She sensed a movement and opened her eyes. The curtains were moving and she felt a frisson of alarm shoot through her before swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and padding towards the window. Pulling the curtains wide she felt a shiver run down her back as a breeze washed over her bare arms.

"Now who left this window open..I'm sure I closed it." Puzzled, but not unduly upset, Wendy pulled the sash down with a thump before pulling the curtains closed again, shutting out the night. Facing the room, she started to notice other things. Her book beside her bed was closed, when she knew she'd left it open at the place she was up to. Her nightdress was all higgledy-piggledy at the end of the bed when she knew that Sara would have left it laid out neatly for her return. Turning her head she noticed that several of the jars of cream and perfume on her dresser weren't in their usual place, something she'd not noticed when she'd been taking out her hair pins.

"What the....." suddenly feeling afraid, Wendy took a step back until her shoulders hit the wall, her heart starting to hammer in her chest as she put the small clues together. Someone had been in her room, someone had disturbed her things, fingered them, moved them. With horror she glanced back at the window. Someone had come through the window into her room. In a sudden move she darted away from the wall and ran for the door. There was a crash behind her and she found herself suddenly tackled from behind, a muscular arm encircling her waist so that she fell just short of the door, her first instinct to scream muffled by the grubby hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled against the iron arm holding her hostage, her bare feet kicking the legs that strove to pin her to the carpet, her nails coming up to gouge at the face of the man behind her.

"I won't hurt you.....just stop fighting.....I don't mean to hurt you."

The voice was a trifle breathless, his warm breath close to her ear as she stilled her movements, her chest heaving as the man withdrew his arm around her waist only to spin her around beneath him, his legs straddling her, his hand still over her mouth, the other capturing her hands and pulling them over her head.

Effectively pinned, Wendy could only star wide-eyed up at her captor, his body looming over hers, completely in control of her.

What she saw froze her into immobility, all the fight going out of her as she took in the naked, bronzed torso, sun kissed curls and thickly lashed, sea-green eyes of the beautiful Adonis above her. Feeling her relax, Peter lifted his hand from her mouth, her lips parting as she panted from her exertions. His eyes swept over her face, his fingers tracing lines down her cheek, over her jaw and down her neck.

"You're beautiful..." He whispered, releasing her hands, which stayed where he'd held them, her rapidly moving chest drawing his attention as her breasts strained the thin fabric of the chemise to the extreme.

"Get off me...." the sound of her voice startled him, his body complying before he realised what he was doing. Free of his weight, Wendy rolled to the side and pushed herself upright, turning to sit with her back against the wall, regarding her attacker with disbelief.

"Who are you.....and what are you doing in my room?"

Peter knelt on the carpet in front of her, his hands resting on the thick pile, his head tilted to the side as he looked at her.

"So you have forgotten me.....I had hoped...."

"Forgotten you...I don't know you.....we've never met before....."

Peter shook his head. "Wendy........it's me....Peter...."

For a long moment Wendy stared at him, then she started to laugh, the sound not the least bit mirthful.

"I'm afraid you didn't do your research very well.....Peter is just a boy....you are......well, you're not a boy."

"Research? What's that?"

"It doesn't matter....you can't be Peter.....you just can't....be....."

As Peter continued to stare at her, Wendy lifted her fingers to her mouth, her eyes starting to well as she stared back.

"You are....aren't you......you're.....Peter Pan."

"Didn't I tell you so?"

"But......no it's not possible....you can't do this, not now...not after all these years!"

"Do what?" Peter asked, not sure of her meaning.

"Come back into my life.......you can't do this." Scrabbling to her knees, Wendy started to push at Peter, her hands trying to shove him to his feet, her breath catching in her throat as tears threatened to choke her. "Go away Peter.....go back to Neverland......go away!"

Catching her hands again, Peter climbed to his feet and hauled her up with him, Wendy still trying to push him towards the window despite not being able to move him an inch.

"It's too late," Wendy was sobbing now, her efforts to move him, turning into pummelling blows, her small fists striking his chest and arms, her breath leaving her lungs in gasps as she fought to evict him from her room and her life. Fending her off, Peter wrapped her in his arms and held her, her struggles lessening as she found herself once more immobilised, her hands coming to rest, curled against his chest, her head falling forward to rest against his shoulder.

"Shhhhh Wendy.....it'll be alright...I promise." Speaking softly, Peter scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her gently down on the covers, his hand smoothing away the hair that had tangled over her face as the tears continued to flow, her lips trembling as she fought to bring her emotions under control once more. Crawling onto the bed beside her Peter continued to speak softly to her, as if calming a wild animal, his hands stroking her hair, as Wendy started to calm herself, her hand coming up to cover her eyes as Peter bent over her to place a light kiss against her forehead. That small caress proved his undoing. As Wendy continued to relax under his ministrations, he kissed her again, his lips finding her hair, her temple, her cheek, her finger tips, even her nose. Gently he lifted her hand from her eyes, his own alight with emotion as she blinked up at him, her own awash with disbelief and bewilderment. Infinitely slowly he bent his head to hers, his lips touching hers so lightly she almost didn't feel it, only the caress of his warm breath as he pulled back, his eyes holding hers, trying to read her reaction to his boldness. Seeing nothing but a strange bafflement in her eyes, Peter bent his head again, this time pressing his lips to hers in a proper kiss, his hand finding hers where it rested on the pillow and entwining their fingers as his lips moved over hers. Wendy could only close her eyes and drown in the sensations coursing through her body, her mind telling her to stop this madness, to bite and kick and rail at the impropriety of his actions, but her body sang a different tune. It welcomed his gentle caress, her lips parting as his tongue swept over her lower lip, her body starting to melt under the onslaught of emotions sweeping all common sense away.

Peter was on fire, his body trembling as he devoured wendy's mouth. Since she'd first come into her room, unaware of him behind the screen, he'd been yearning to be this close to her. As she'd peeled away the layers of her civilised life, he'd revelled in each new treasure revealed to his curious gaze. Hidden as he was, he only had a narrow view of her room, centred on her dressing table. He'd wanted to let her know he was there from the first, but as soon as she sat down and started to unpin her hair he was frozen in place, his body starting to quiver as she brushed out her crowning glory, the strands catching the light of the gas lamps, alive with gold highlights. When she'd started to remove her dress and underclothes he thought he'd die from the surge of adrenaline in his blood, his heart rate soaring as her body revealed its hidden delights, her new curves so tantalisingly and unconsciously displayed for his eyes alone. It was only when she approached the window and paused there, that a prickle of fear started to make itself known, his muscles tensing when she turned from the window and started to appraise her room. He saw the moment she chose to flee, his body already poised to stop her, the screen crashing to the ground when he leapt after her, tackling her to the carpet and pinning her writhing form with his own body.

Now she lay pliant and warm beneath him, her mouth open and wet for his explorations, her tongue tentatively meeting his, stroking and dancing as he gave chase, a moan deep in her throat making him shudder as she moved against him, pressing herself closer.

They were both lost in the thrall of passion, Wendy's hands reaching up to cradle his face, her fingers combing through his hair, angling his head so that he could deepen the kiss. His hand left her fingers on the pillow to roam down her side, brushing over her ribs, his thumb stoking the side of her breast before curving around her slender waist, pulling her closer until they lay hip to hip.

Wendy moaned again when his fingers grazed over her hip and down to the sleek length of her thigh, her leg lifting as he pulled it up to wrap around his legs, his callused hand skimming back up to caress the swell of her backside, hot and wicked against her skin through the silk.

Her own hands were busy measuring the expanse of his shoulders, kneading the muscles that flexed and pulled under the satin skin, her nails dragging over the hard points of his shoulders before wrapping around his upper arms.

Peter's busy fingers had trailed up her body and were cupping a breast, his thumb brushing over the peak causing sparks to ignite behind her eyelids, the combination of his mouth and hand leaving her liquid with want, her breath leaving her mouth on a gasp as his mouth moved from hers to kiss his way down her neck to her chest where he took her nipple in his hot mouth right though her camisole. Wendy's body arched off the bed as he sucked and laved the hard flesh, the silk turning transparent with each brush of his tongue. Wanting more, Peter tugged the fabric up until her breast was exposed, his mouth latching on once more bringing Wendy to a state of incoherence as he feasted on her.

Peter was being guided purely by instinct, being as much a virgin as Wendy in the games of love, but in this he was ahead of her, having none of the restraints of civility to hold him back, his passionate nature giving full rein to his senses as he licked and suckled, his own level of arousal as urgent as hers for fulfilment. He knew the basics of human anatomy and reproduction, but had no practical experience except in his own ability to pleasure himself. Now he was able to bring that pleasure to Wendy as well as himself, it was as close to heaven as he could imagine.

Wendy couldn't believe the level of excitement building in her body, her only desire being to somehow absorb Peter into herself, become one with him until there was no division, no part of her untouched by him, inside or out. She was so focused on the new sensations sending sparks and flames down her limbs and within her body that she hardly noticed when Peter used his knife to slice through the thin barriers of her camisole and knickers, the silk parting like a the petals of a flower. All she knew was that now his hands could touch her everywhere, his heat could sear her and douse the flames that threatened to consume her.

His mouth was once more on hers, his heated skin melding with hers, no longer a barrier between them of clothes, his own shed and laying in a crumpled heap by the bed. Now they were only skin on skin, hot and urgent, his hands stroking the flames until she gasped, flushing brightly as his busy fingers trailed down her softly rounded stomach and delved into her most hidden of secrets, parting her legs and caressing her where none had touched her before.

Her hands were everywhere on his body, her fingers trailing blazing lines of fire over him, his skin coming alive under her touch. A growling groan from deep in his chest made her arch against him, her hands sweeping up his back and down again.

She was liquid and hot, his fingers finding her core, delighting in her cries as she suddenly shuddered beneath him, his hand still buried between her thighs as she trembled and whimpered, her muscles twitching as she came undone in his arms.

While she lay boneless and sated, he shifted over her, positioning himself, hot and hard, where his fingers had dallied, his sex nudging at her opening as he braced himself over her. Flushed and rosy, Wendy blinked up at him, drowning in his eyes even as her body welcomed him, her legs opening to receive him as he slowly pushed himself inside her, his hardness stretching and filling her, his own body trembling as he paused, his sex reaching the obstruction of her virginity. Resting on his elbows, he hands cradled her face, his lips seeking hers as his hips drew back slightly, her body tight around him as he withdraw only to thrust back in stopping once more when he reached the barrier of her body.

Wendy mewed in frustration as he withdrew again, her hands clutching him to her, her shaking legs coming around his hips, her heels digging into the back of his thighs. Tilting her pelvis she dug in her heels and drove him forward, both of them crying out as Peter buried himself inside her, his hips jerking at the sensations of being encased in her silky heat. Wendy had thrown her head back at the sharp pain, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip as she rode out the dull ache, her chest heaving as she panted. Peter moved again, his body taking over control, setting up a steady rhythm as he claimed her mouth again, her hands moving up to bury themselves in his hair as her body started to move with him, meeting and withdrawing in the age old dance. She felt pleasure starting to coil again in her stomach, setting her heart fluttering as Peter drove himself into her again and again, his thrusts becoming less coordinated as he raced towards his climax. They were both shaking when he uttered a strangled cry, his hips jerking hard against her as he pulsed his essence into her heat, his whole body shuddering in his release. Wendy held him tightly against her as he rode out his climax, his heart thundering against her own.

Some time later, Peter raised his head from the crook of her neck, his lips pressing moist kisses against her soft skin as he shifted slightly, still sheathed in her body. Wendy had her head turned away from him, her hands laying palm upwards on the pillow.

"Wendy?"

At the sound of his voice, Wendy turned her head back to him, her eyes awash with tears.

"Oh Peter.....why did you have to come back." Her bitter tone sent a shaft of pain through his heart, his face falling as she turned her head away again.

"Wendy....I love you......I want you to come back with me...to Neverland....forever."

"You are such a child......I can't come back with you Peter...I'm too old....I've forgotten how to fly."

"Don't say that....you're not to old......I'll take you....we'll go together."

"I have a life here Peter......I have a good man who wants to marry me.....although now I don't know.....he may not want me now....."

"What are you talking about......why wouldn't he want you?" Peter shook his head. "I don't want him to have you.....you're mine," He jerked his hips, moving himself inside her, their bodies still intimately connected. "This makes you mine.....forever."

Feeling him still sheathed in her core, Wendy gasped as her body responded even as her mind rebelled. Seeing her eyes close as he moved within her, Peter grinned smugly, withdrawing slowly before thrusting back into her liquid center, his body more than willing for another bout of lovemaking.

"He can't have you.......you're mine......ever since you gave me... your hidden kiss....you were mine.....long before he laid eyes on you....."

With each pause he stroked in and out of her body, picking up the tempo when he felt her respond, her back arching to press herself against him, passion once more sweeping her away, her fingers curling around his arms.

He swallowed her cries as he brought them both once more to a shuddering completion, Wendy's fingernails leaving crescents on his skin as she writhed in her release, her limbs trembling as she sagged in his arms.

His body softening, Peter slipped from inside her and rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so she lay with her head resting on his chest, her hair spread over his shoulder and around his head.

Turning his cheek, he nuzzled the silky strands lying against the pillow, his lips curved in a lazy smile of contentment. Wendy was a warm weight against his side, her breathing slowing and deepening as she slipped into an exhausted slumber, her hand curled trustingly against his neck.

He felt light, as if something had broken free inside him and lifted him above everything in the world. His body felt more relaxed than he'd ever known, his heart still racing, his lips unable to stop the smile curving them. Lifting his head he gazed down the body of the girl in his arms, his eyes drifting over her enticing curves and hollows, painted gold in the gaslight. He felt complete.

There was no turning back now, she had to come back with him to Neverland.

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Chapter: Two - As it is
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Author's note: It is a popular misconception that to be naive means to have no knowledge of the world and its going's on. Not so, naive means that you just don't see intrigue and deception when its under your nose. The dictionary says that Naive means to be unaffected, straightforward in style, eschewing subtlety or conventional techniques. In my book that is Peter Pan to a tee - but to be naive does not mean one is ignorant of the world or people, it just means you don't subscribe necessarily to the norm. Ignorance is also confused with innocence. You may be ignorant of the subtlety of conventions and rules that hold one person back from following their hearts desire, but that doesn't mean your not aware of them and try to find ways around them. Innocence can mean many thing, you may be innocent and untouched, but still know the mechanics of a biological act without having partaken in it. In my world, Peter is a contradiction of noble child and wild animal, he has all the simple courage and honest belief of a child, but all the instinct for survival and self gratification of an animal. He is unrestrained by the trappings of convention and society and goes, for the most part, where his belly guides him. Given his arrogance and overweening ego, it is hardly surprising that when presented with a new and irresistible temptation, he partakes of it with unbridled gusto. If this doesn't fit with your interpretation of the character then there is little point in continuing to read, as these traits will colour this story from start to finish. On another tack......this is proving way too much fun to stop now, so hold on, this could be an interesting ride. Fluff and angst abound. ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The first intimation that is was morning was when Sara dropped the tea tray, the crockery smashing noisily as it fell from her nerveless fingers. The cause of her shock was the sight that greeted her when she arrived to rouse her young mistress. Wendy raised her head, still groggy with sleep to find her maid goggling at her with her mouth open. After uttering a small squeak of dismay, Sara threw her apron over her head and rushed out of the room.

Nonplussed, Wendy reached a hand up to rub her eyes and stretched luxuriously, her toes curling as she made to swing her legs out of bed. Inexplicably she couldn't move. Something was holding her very firmly about the waist, that something tightening his grip as he felt her stir. Suddenly her memory returned with a rush and she blushed from the top of her head to her toes, the cause of Sara's shock now embarrassingly evident. Wendy Darling was naked in bed with a man, and to make matters worse it was no ordinary man, it was Peter, returned to her from the past and now set to completely destroy her carefully planned future.

The sound of raised voices galvanised her into action, her hands pushing the heavy arm from off her body, allowing her to sit up and tuck the sheet around her body just as her Aunt burst in on the scene, Sara hiding behind her as she bustled in.

"What is this daft girl squeaking about Wendy dear......she says......she says.....oh my lord....." Millicent Hardwicke put a hand out to steady herself as the full impact of the scene in front of her seemed to make the room spin. Wendy was just about to rise from her bed, the sheet wrapped haphazardly about her torso, her bare legs visible beneath the material, her hair a disordered birds nest about her shoulders.

Beside her, still slumbering peacefully despite the uproar was Peter Pan, his lean body displayed in all its glory from the waist up, his bare feet sticking out the end of the bed.

"Aunt....its not...I mean......I didn't..."

"You certainly did my girl......oh dear, I feel faint......how could you....oh lord I need to sit down." Sara helped Millicent to the dressing table chair, whisking off the clothes left from last night, the maid clutching them to her bosom as if to ward off goodness knew what, her eyes glued to the figure still sprawled across Wendy's bed.

Wendy bit her lip, mortified to be caught in such an unequivocally compromising situation. Her blush that had started to fade now flared anew as she hung her head, the sheet clutched tightly to her breast.

Behind her, the perpetrator of this disaster finally stirred. Peter rolled onto his side and reached out a hand, his fingers stroking the bare expanse Wendy's back, the intimacy of the caress not lost on Millicent as she struggled to stop hyperventilating.

His voice laced with sleep, Peter spoke. "Wendy.....come back to bed."

Wendy felt she was about to burst into flames from the heat of her blush alone. Drawing herself up, she turned her head and hissed at Peter over her shoulder. "We're not alone, you oaf!"

Slowly Peter raised his head, his blue-green eyes meeting those of Wendy's Aunt and maid, a smile lighting his features as he lazily regarded the tableau. Wendy sat on the edge of the bed, as rigid as a broom stick, only the faintest of tremors shaking her body. Her Aunt stared open mouthed at Peter, not believing her eyes and the maid snapped her mouth shut and ventured a small smile back at Peter, instantly smitten with his cheeky grin.

Millicent rose regally to her feet, her chin thrust out as she regarded her disgraced niece and her lover.

"I will expect a full and final explanation for this piece of knavery, Wendy....I expect you in my room in five minutes.....decently attired."

With a sniff, Millicent swept from the room, Sara trailing behind her after hurriedly piling the shattered crockery on the discarded tray, leaving Wendy and Peter alone.

With a groan Wendy fell forward, her head nearly touching her knees, her hair hiding her face as she rocked back and forth.

"I'm ruined.....ruined......he'll never look at me now.....oh why didn't you leave last night....why did you stay!"

A little alarmed at her apparent grief, Peter unravelled himself from the bedclothes and slipped out of bed, coming to crouch in front of her, his hands coming up to grip her shoulders, stopping her rocking motion.

"Wendy....don't cry.....it won't be so bad.....nobody will make a fuss in Neverland.....come back with me....today, now....."

Wendy raised her head, her face streaked with tears of regret, her hands still clutching the sheet to her chest as she stared down into Peter face, struck again with how handsome he'd grown. Sniffing she released one of her hands from the sheet and reached out to touch his face, his lips curving into a smile as her finger traced an eyebrow, his hands still holding her arms as she explored his features. Despite her tears her lips also curved into a mirror of his smile, her hand cupping his cheek.

"Peter I can't come back to Neverland with you.....my life is here.....my family......a future.....Steven...."

"He'll not have you....I won't let him." Snatching his hands away, Peter rose to his feet in a sudden move, his fists balled at his side as he towered over her. Wendy reared back, rising to her feet so that they stood toe to toe, both too caught up in the moment to see the incongruity of arguing without a stitch of clothing on.

"I don't belong to you Peter......I'm not yours to do with what you like.....so don't try and bully me!"

"Then stop talking about him.....he's not your future.....I am.....Neverland is your future.....nothing else!"

"I told you, I can't go back there with you....I won't!"

"Yes you are!"

"What are you going to do.....force me?"

His eyes flashing fire, Peter seethed for two seconds before cupping her angry face in his large hands and shutting her up with a kiss, the reason for the argument dissolving into the ether as the brushfire that was their mutual attraction flared once more into life, consuming them both in its flame until there was nothing to think about except the insistent clamour of their bodies demands for fulfilment and release.

At some point Sara put her head around the door only to withdraw it when it became apparent that the couple by the bed were oblivious to her presence. In her quick appraisal she noted that the naked, golden skinned God was kissing her young mistress with unbridled enthusiasm, the young lady just as eager to kiss him back, with her arms firmly around his neck, the sheet forgotten on the floor between them. Shutting the door behind her, Sara grinned broadly before smoothing down her apron and returning to Miss Millicent's room to advise her that her niece was unavoidably detained.

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Sometime later, Wendy lay amongst the disaster area that was her bed, the rumpled sheets and covers strewn haphazardly over their limbs. Peter was pressing moist kisses to her shoulder and collar bone, his eyes flicking up to meet hers, the amusement in them bringing a frown to her forehead.

"It's not funny Peter......I can't go back to Neverland with you..and that's that."

"You can.....and you will.....if I have to ruin you a hundred time before you agree....."

Rolling onto her side, Wendy propped her head on her hand and faced away from him. Unperturbed, Peter gathered her hair together and tossed it over her shoulder before transferring his attentions to the nape of her neck and her shoulder blades. It was if he'd been starving and she was a banquet for him to feast upon. He couldn't get enough, his hands sliding down over her waist and hip, marvelling at the silky texture of her skin as he dragged his fingers back up, grazing over her rounded nether cheeks, goosebumps rising on her skin as he passed.

As if reaching a decision, Wendy swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, her hair tossed back over her shoulder to hang in rippling waves down her back.

"I have to see my Aunt.....I'll get Sara to find some clothes for you.....there's bound to be some of my late Uncles shirts and suits still about the place."

Peter watched her as she found her crumpled night dress and negligee, donning the filmy clothes before belting the thin wrap tightly around her waist and leaving the room, not once looking back at him.

Sighing, Peter lay back on the bed with his hands behind his head. Things hadn't worked out at all as he'd expected, but he wasn't about to complain. To him, his future was clear as crystal, he just had to bring Wendy around to the same way of thinking. The door to the bedroom opened and Sara entered with a bundle of clothes in her arms. She kept her eyes firmly averted from the figure in the bed, dumping the clothes on the chair before tripping over to the window and pulling the curtains to let bright sunlight flood the room. She then extinguished the gas lamp before gathering up the remnants of clothes scattered around the room, tutting over the shredded remains of Wendy's underthings, leaving the room and its occupant to his own devices.

Shaking his head, Peter sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, in doing so he pulled the remaining covers off the mattress, revealing the under sheet. Several red marks drew his attention, his fingers touching the blood stains smeared over the sheet, his brows drawing together at the implications. He'd hurt her, made her bleed. He tried to think back, his passion blurred memories not recalling any protests or pleas for him to stop what he was doing, their coupling only minutes before as needy and wanton as anything they'd done last night. But still, there was blood meaning he'd injured her at some stage. The thought made him feel ill before common sense kicked in and he rationalised that if Wendy was in pain or hurting she would surely tell him. He'd have to ask her when she returned.

Rising to his feet he stretched and scratched, his skin still tingling from their lovemaking, his joints popping as he flexed his arms before reaching for the clothes on the chair.

Once dressed in a shirt and trousers, Peter went to the window and looked out at the street below. The morning was clear and well advanced, people walking hither and thither along the swept pavements, several carts making their way to and from their destinations, even an automobile appeared and chugged its way along the street, holding Peter's interest until it passed beyond his limited view. Turning away, he stared at the disordered room. Reaching down he picked up the wrecked screen that had hidden him, propping it up in the corner before he returned to the bed and heaped the bedclothes back on top. The carpet was a mess by the door from the spilled breakfast so he carefully stepped over it before opening the door and sticking his head out into the corridor. In front of him was a balcony which he approached and leant over, staring down at the foyer many feet below. Hearing nothing, he made his way downstairs, his nose directing him to the door leading to the kitchen. Pushing open the swing door he saw the maid, Sara, bustling about the tidy room, her skirts swishing as she arranged cups and saucers on a tray, getting ready to take a tray up to Miss Millicent's room. Spotting Peter in the doorway, she froze, one hand half way to putting a milk jug on the tray.

"I'm hungry," Peter announced without preamble as he advanced further into the kitchen.

"I'm not surprised, great tall thing that you are. There's bread on the bench and butter in the pantry. Sit yourself down and I'll fetch them. The misses is waiting for this tray, so I'll have to leave you to manage."

"Thank you....?"

"My names Sara.....now don't hold me up, I have to get this ready."

Pulling out a chair, Peter sat down at the scrubbed wooden table, his arms folded on its surface as he watched the trim maid whisk around the kitchen as she prepared a steaming pot of tea before disappearing to fetch the promised butter. Leaving him with a fresh loaf to partake of, Sara picked up the tray and left him alone.

Peter eyed the broad bread knife with amusement, drawing his own wickedly sharp dagger with which he proceeded to rip apart the loaf before using his fingers to scoop a glob of creamy butter onto the chunk of bread before stuffing it in his mouth. He was still munching his way through the loaf when Sara returned, her gaze sweeping over the young man at her table before bustling over to the stove to make herself a cup of tea.

"You certainly set the cat amongst the pigeons this morning...who would have thought.....well, what's done it done.....I suppose this means that it will be you marrying Miss Wendy, not that nice Mister Steven."

Peter paused in his chewing to stare blankly at her before finishing his mouthful and swallowing. Ignoring her question, Peter went to wipe his hands on his clothes but Sara exclaimed loudly before he could do so, throwing a tea towel at him to use instead. Shrugging, Peter used the cloth and threw it on the table before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Sara threw her hands up in horror.

"Good grief, you really are a barbarian....and handsome devil to be sure, but still a barbarian....you'll have to buck your ideas up if your going to marry her."

"I'm not......"Peter started to say only to have Sara give a cry of outrage, her eyes flashing.

"You're not going to marry her?.....but you have to. You can't leave the young miss now you've had your wicked way with her.....you simply can't...oh that would be the wickedest thing I've ever heard of!"

Peter rose to his feet, his temper rising. As he uncoiled to his full height, Sara spluttered to a halt, her outrage forgotten in admiration of Peter's height and breadth, her eyes rounding as he turned the full force of his magnetic blue-green eyes on her.

"What I was going to say was.....I'm not planning on leaving her here, she's coming back to Neverland with me.....today if I can get her to go...as for marrying her.....I'm the only husband she'll ever have while I'm alive.......I'll kill anyone who says otherwise."

Sara goggled at him, her expression softening at his obvious sincerity, her romantic heart racing in her chest as she clasped her hands together and grinned at his ferocious expression.

"Oh I just knew it.......you're in love with her.....silly me, of course you are.....oh how romantic."

"Yes, I love her....and she loves me......she's just forgotten."

Combing his fingers through his already disordered hair, Peter paced away from the table and stared out the back door at the garden beyond.

At that moment a bell jangled loudly and Sara jumped, recognising it as the front door bell.

"Oh lordy, who could that be at this time......now look, you stay here, don't go wandering around.....oh what a morning..."

Patting her hair to make sure it was still tidy, Sara raced out of the kitchen to see who was so importunate as to call at the house before midday.

Trotting to the front door, Sara could see a silhouette through the patterned glass. Fixing a polite smile on her face, Sara opened the door to come face to face with the right honourable Steven Bishop, a posy of rose buds clutched in his gloved hand, his handsome face creased in a smile as Sara stepped back to allow him in.

"Good morning Sara, I know I'm early but I couldn't bear to wait any longer, is my darling girl awake?"

"Er.....yes sir, she is.....but not dressed yet.....if you'd like to wait in the morning room...I'll inform her you're here..."

"Oh no need.....I'll just go up....."

"NO!!....er...I mean no sir...I'm sure that wouldn't be proper, even though you're to be married......er engaged as you are......please sir, I'm sure she won't be long..." She ushered him into the morning room, her face tinged pink with embarrassment as she shut the door hurriedly before he could make any protest.

Mopping imagined sweat from her brow, Sara hitched up her skirts and raced up the stairs, praying that the Golden Skinned God in the kitchen didn't stray and meet the Dark Haired Adonis in the morning room. Catching her breath at the head of the stairs, she paced slowly to the door of Millicent's bedroom and tapped on the wood. The door opened soon after and Sara bustled in, shutting the door behind her with a snap. Millicent looked at her in some surprise, Sara casting a glance at Wendy who was sitting on the window seat staring out blindly at the view outside.

"Excuse me Madam, Miss.....but I have a gentleman waiting to see Miss Wendy in the morning room."

"Who is it....it's much too early for calls....."

"Mister Bishop ma'am."

Wendy's head snapped around and she stared white faced at her Aunt and Sara. "No...he wasn't due until two......" She whispered faintly.

Millicent pressed a hand to her bosom and drew in a deep breath. "Well my dear, it would seem that fate has decreed you must make a decision now....this minute."

Sara interrupted. "I should mention that the other....er....gentleman, is currently in the kitchen......"

"Peter?"

"He was hungry....lord was he hungry, polished off an entire loaf!"

Millicent suddenly sprang into life, throwing off her wrap and marching over to Wendy, pulling the startled girl to her feet.

"Right young lady.....you need to get dressed, go with Sara and throw something on......I'll get dressed and go down and keep Steven entertained while you sort out the other young man."

"Sort out?"

"Find out if he'd prepared to marry you of course.....if not, we'll have to take our chances with Steven......he's infatuated with you, he may overlook your indiscretion......"

"What!!...Are you mad?" Wendy's stood rigid, her eyes flashing, her cheeks pink.

"Don't argue with me girl......get dressed and get down to the kitchen.....NOW!"

Shutting her mouth with a snap, Wendy flung herself past her Aunt and out of the room, her own door banging shut a second later. Millicent passed a hand over her eyes before turning to Sara.

"Go and see to her Sara.....be as quick as you can then get back here and help me......oh my goodness....what a parcel of worms this is..."

In record time Sara had Wendy into a simple dress that didn't require all the ramifications of corsets, brushed out her hair and tied it back simply, away from Wendy's pale face. Leaving the muddle to clear up later, the busy maid then rushed back to Millicent's room and help the doughty lady with her own rushed toilette. Wendy made her way down the stairs with a heavy tread. She was a bundle of nerves, knowing that Steven was standing only a few feet away as she quietly passed the morning room door and approached the kitchen. Pushing open the swing door she drew in a sharp breath when she found no evidence of Peter. The back door was open so she hurried across the flagstone floor, her heart returning to her chest when she spied his tall form amongst the herb beds. For a moment she watched him as he paced among the knee high shrubs, his hands resting on his hips, his head downbent as he scuffed at something on the ground. The white shirt hung loosely on his lean frame, her Uncle a more corpulent man than the present wearer. The top two or three buttons were undone and the morning breeze teased the fabric away from his skin, leaving a vee of tanned skin visible at the front. The riot of blond curls crowning his head glinted in the late morning sunlight, almost giving him a halo. As if sensing her regard, he lifted his head and met her gaze with his own, his lips instantly curling into a grin as he dropped his hands from his hips and started towards her. Wendy couldn't help herself, she grinned back at him, her slippered feet drawing her onwards until they met halfway, Peter's hands immediately cupping her face, tilting her mouth up to meet his in a kiss that left her breathless.

Long seconds later they pulled apart, Wendy pink and dizzy, her eyes like stars as she gazed up at him. Blinking she brought herself back to earth and backed away a step to give her time to gather her scattered wits.

"Peter...you have to stop doing that...I can't think...."

"But I like kissing you.......and you like me kissing you too."

"I know but....."

"Wendy......when can we go home....I want to take you back to Neverland.....today....right now....."

As he advanced again, Wendy put out her hand to stop him, her palm flattening against his chest, his skin warm against hers, distracting her again as she tried to form the words needed.

Flicking his eyes down to see what fascinated her so, Peter grinned anew and slowly drew her into his arms, her body complying before she could attempt a protest.

"You asked me once if I knew what love was........if I'd ever loved anything, or anyone......I foolishly replied that love offended me...that I wanted nothing to do with love and growing up...but I was wrong.......I love you.....and I know you love me." Wendy muttered something into his chest but he ignored her, kissing the top of her head before continuing. "I want you more than I wanted anything else in my life.....we were meant to be together.....forever. Come back with me to Neverland.....be my everything.... take me for your husband."

Overwhelmed, her emotions stretched to the limit, Wendy burst into noisy sobs, her hands clutching at his shirt as he wrapped her more tightly in his arms, her body shaking as she wailed against his chest.

So caught up in their own world they didn't notice the figure standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his grey eyes blazing as he took in the affecting scene, his hands flexing before clenching into fists as he stepped purposefully into the sunlight and marched towards the couple standing in the herb garden.

"What the hell do you think you are doing with my future wife!!"

Peter's head shot up and Wendy jerked in his arms, his own holding her firmly against him as he stared at the angry man bearing down on them.

"Take your hands of Miss Darling......at once!!" Steven's order cut the air like a blade, icy and sharp. Halting a foot from them, Steven stood with his feet apart, his body vibrating with anger, his hands still balled into fists, ready to lash out as soon as Wendy was clear. Peter could read all this in a blink of an eye, his own narrowing as he tensed in readiness for a fight. He loosened his hold on Wendy and she hurriedly scrubbed at her face before preparing herself to face her former husband-to-be. Before she could do that, Peter gently but firmly pushed her behind him, one look from his eyes silencing her before his body blocked her view of her former betrothed.

"Wendy will never be your wife......she's mine, always was and always will be."

"What tosh.....she's never mentioned you...whoever you are...so get out of my way and leave this house!"

"You are the one leaving......"

"Get out of my way you.......gutter snipe!" Incensed, Steven swung his fist, aiming for Peter's jaw. Peter had already read his intentions in his eyes and dodged back, the fist missing him by inches.

"Oh NO!!.....please......stop...." Wendy's cry only served to spur the two men on, Steven swinging again, this time his fist being caught by Peter who twisted the mans arm behind his back, bringing his own arm up around the mans throat. They jostled and wrestled, Peter's lips pressed in a grim line, Steven's teeth bared as he managed to drop his shoulder and pull Peter off balance, loosening his grip around Steven's neck and breaking the hold. Separated, panting, the two circled each other like dogs, Steven pulling off his suit jacket and throwing it off to the right before advancing on Peter again. In height and breadth they were evenly matched, Steven having a slight weight advantage, Peter more battle hardened, his muscle like corded wire as the two men wrestled for supremacy, punches flying, eliciting muffled grunts and pain filled gasps as they found their targets.

Wendy could only watch in horrid fascination as the two men in her life fought for possession of her future, her heart torn between the two, both of them everything she could want in a man, both determined to have her at any cost. Glancing up she saw her Aunt and Sara standing in the doorway of the kitchen but she could only shrug helplessly and stand clear of the combat, the herb garden sadly trampled as the two men circled again.

Both men were sporting cuts and bruises, both were dishevelled and dirty from tussling on the ground. Of the two, Peter seemed to be almost enjoying himself, his eyes sparkling as he stepped to the side, his pink-tinged teeth bared in a grin after spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground at his opponents dusty feet.

"Do you surrender?"

Steven blinked at him, his hand coming up to swipe at the blood trickling down from a cut above his eyebrow.

"Never.....I will be the only one walking away from this fray...you will be thrown into the street like the rubbish, you're not worthy to touch the hem of her dress, let alone hold her!"

Peter smirked, his eyebrow quirked as he smiled. "You be surprised to learn what I've touched...and she wasn't wearing a dress at the time!"

The words had been spoken quietly, only audible to the two antagonists, well out of Wendy's hearing. With a roar Steven threw himself at Peter, the two clashing like bulls, Steven's fist landing a lucky facer on Peter before he found himself flat on his back on the path, a sharp blade pressed to the underside of his chin and a pair of flashing green eyes glaring into his angry grey.

Steven blinked up at his adversary in surprise, the wind knocked out of him, his arms pinned by Peter's knees as he straddled Stevens chest, his dagger pricking the pale skin over the pulse point in his throat.

"Now......do you surrender?"

"Peter.....please...." Wendy's plea going unnoticed, the two men too intent on their silent battle of wills to pay any attention to distractions beyond their struggle.

"Over my dead body you heathen!" Steven hissed, his teeth bared as the blade pressed harder, his chin lifting to relieve the pressure.

"That can be arranged....but for her sake, I'll leave your skin intact.....for now...."

Slowly Peter rose to his feet, the blade held loosely in his hand as he stared down at the man on the ground. Stepping away, he watched warily as the man climbed to his feet, his fingers coming up to touch the spot where a bead of blood welled, dark red against his pale skin.

They were both dishevelled and breathing heavily, sweat mingled with dirt on both their faces. Wendy remained where she was, her eyes bright with unshed tears, her heart breaking as Steven broke the connection with Peter and shot her a glare filled with disappointment and bewilderment. For a second he held her gaze, his hand held out towards her, asking her silently to go with him. Mutely Wendy shook her head, the light in his eyes dying as his hand fell to his side. Tipping his head down, he spat on the ground, a mixture of blood and spittle, wiping his bruised lips with the back of his hand before turning his back on them both and marching back along the path to the kitchen door. Millicent and Sara stood back as the angry young man brushed rudely past them, the silence in the garden broken only by the slamming of the front door. As if broken from a spell, Wendy slumped to the ground, her hands covering her face. Peter wiped the blade of his knife on the leg of his trousers before tucking it into his belt once more. Batting at the dust covering his legs and shirt, Peter slowly made his way over to the wall where Wendy sat disconsolately, her Aunt and the house-maid melting back into the shadows of the kitchen, leaving the lovers alone.

Crouching down on his heels, Peter waited for Wendy to lower her hands before speaking to her. The minutes ticked by before she lifted her head to stare at him, her eyes roving over his face, noting each new cut and bruise.

"Oh Peter......why did you never come back for me.....why did you forget me?"

"I never forgot Wendy.....truly I didn't......it just got so......confusing. I was growing and I didn't know why, I wanted so many times to come back and ask you what was happening, but each time I baulked at the last hurdle......but I never forgot you...." He smiled, his eyes looking off to the side. "Tink would never let me forget....she was always blaming everything happening to me on you...she tried to turn me away from you, but instead she kept your memory alive....."

"I'm not sure whether I should thank her or curse her...." Wendy murmured, remembering the small sprite that had made her life so uncomfortable during those early encounters. Peter swung his gaze back to her and gave her a small, sad smile.

"I doesn't matter now which you do....Tink won't know about it.....she died some time ago.....I still miss her."

"Oh Peter....I'm so sorry....she loved you so...."

"I know.....I loved her too, she was my first friend in Neverland...for such a tiny creature she had a huge heart."

For a moment they shared the loss of the tiny creature, Wendy's hand reaching out for his briefly before releasing it and clambering to her feet. Peter also rose, watching as Wendy wiped the tears from her cheeks, her head turning towards the house.

"I'll have to send a message to my mother.....we've made all these plans....the dress....."

"Wendy....."

She turned her head back to face him, her eyes not meeting his, their focus on a spot just below his chin.

"Peter.....I have alot to do.....so many things to cancel...I'll be out for most of the afternoon.....after....a-fter I've visited my parents....they have to know what's happened."

Her hands had been unconsciously twisting together, her bottom lip trembling as she fought to maintain her composure. Letting go a curse under his breath, Peter pulled her towards him and wrapped her in his arms.

"Don't cry.......it's for the best....I promise you.....come away with me to Neverland.....I want you to......it wants you to.....you'll have a future there, with me......together..."

"It Peter? You speak of Neverland as if it were alive."

"It is Wendy.....in ways you cannot imagine...but I'll show you, I'll show you everything.....you'll see."

With her head resting against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath her cheek. Sighing, she pushed away, Peter releasing her as she stepped back.

"I have alot to do......you need to get those cuts seen too, Sara has a medicine chest she uses for all our small needs. I'll be back sometime later today."

Still refusing to meet his eyes, Wendy quickly turned and picked up her skirts, running back to the house along the narrow brick path. Peter watched her go, his expression resigned.

"You can fight me all you want, but I'll win in the end."

Turning away from the house he lifted his face to the sun before walking slowly down the length of the garden to the apple orchard at the end where he lay down in the sweet grass, Sara finding him later fast asleep like a babe in the woods.

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Wendy's interview with her parents was emotionally fraught and exhausting. Her father was still at the bank, her mother frankly disbelieving at first, thinking that Wendy was having wedding nerves, but as she poured out the drama of the previous night and morning, her mother's face gradually fell, paling as Wendy described the fight between Wendy's former betrothed and the person Mary Darling could only think of an interloper, to so destroy her daughters peace of mind and disrupt all their plans at this late stage.

"But who is this.....Peter Pan?" Mary asked in bewilderment, her hand pressed to her forehead.

"Remember Mother.....all those years ago when I went missing for a few days with John and Michael....."

"But dearest.....you described him as a boy, not much older than yourself....an eternal boy....how can he be this man who accosted you?"

"He didn't accost me Mother......well at first, but afterwards," Wendy blushed, her face lowered as she stared fixedly at her hands clasped loosely in her lap. "It is him......somehow all grown up....I don't know how...but it is him.....he came back for me......wants to take me back to Neverland."

"What? No...Wendy..oh my dear, you can't possibly.....its outrageous of him to suggest such a thing...to leave your family, your friends....to live like a savage....oh my dear." Horrified, Mary swept her daughter into a tight embrace as if to ward off all thought of such a possibility.

"He says he loves me......and...I think he does...."

"But Steven loves you too dearest......you were to be married...."

"Oh Mother.....I know.....and it was the dearest wish of my heart to marry him.....but now......now I don't know....I just don't know..."

They sat, mother and daughter, in a tight hug for many minutes, the afternoon sun bathing them in a warm glow as each drew comfort from the other. The sound of the front door shutting drew them apart, Mary Darling wiping her cheeks before brushing down her dress and drawing in a deep breath.

"That will be your Father. Dry your eyes, we'll tell him together.."

"He'll be so cross....."

"He loves you Wendy.....he wants only the best for you......that's why we were so pleased when Steven...but that's neither here nor there....he's not an ogre dear.....just tell him the truth...I'm sure he'll understand."

Mary Darlings faith in her husbands equanimity was sorely tested, the walls reverberating with the sound of his shout of horrified outrage, the floor vibrating with the force of his pacing as his wife and daughter appraised him of Wendy's change in circumstances.

"I won't allow it......its preposterous.....he must go and Steven made to come up to scratch.......he must!"

"I can't let him do that Father......it wouldn't be fair to him..."

"Fair? What's fair about some bounder despoiling my daughter on the eve of her wedding.....its not to be borne...."

"Exactly Father.....we have to face...I have to face the fact....I could be with......c-hi-ld." Wendy stuttered to a halt, the awful possibility as much a shock to her as to her appalled parents. Overcome, George Darling slumped into his favourite chair, his wife reaching over to pat his hand as she worried her bottom lip, darting concerned glancing between her husband and her eldest child.

"Then there's nothing to be done.......this Peter must marry you...and quick, before the scandal breaks....we'll have to invent some plausible reason why you've changed prospective husbands at such a late date...." Her Father raised a hand to cover his eyes and groaned, loudly. "Oh the scandal....the bank.....how do I explain to Quidditch-Cooch, oh Mary, how has this happened?"

"George dear......there was no way any of us, least of all Wendy could have foreseen this.....incident occurring. We must accept that it has and make the best of it."

"Why don't we send her to your sisters, we could say she went down with some horrible malady......had to cancel the wedding.....anything..."

"I don't think that will answer George dear.....there's always the possibility that Steven, if he's as angry as Wendy says, will spread the truth regardless of the consequences."

"Oh no....he wouldn't....I mean......" Wendy halted and swallowed hard, not entirely sure that Steven wouldn't, after all, what man likes to be not only jilted at the alter but cuckolded as well.

"We have to assume he will, dear....his pride has been hurt, and you know how it is with men and their pride....." Mary Darling clamped her lips shut when her husband raised his hand to glare at her.

Wendy rose to her feet and started to pull on her gloves, her movements awkward and graceless. "I have to go.....I have to decide what I'm going to do....."

"Oh my dear..." Standing up, Mary enfolded her daughter once more against her warm bosom, Wendy grateful to rest her heavy head against her Mothers shoulder.

"I'm so sorry...." Wendy whispered, "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Shhhhhh of course you didn't......these things just happen...for whatever reason and we just make the best of it. Now get back to your Aunts and later this evening, your Father and I will come round and meet this.......Peter. Things will work out.....they so often do."

Kissing her Mother on the cheek, Wendy cast her father a last glance, receiving a tired wave of his hand before she hurriedly left the small house in Bloomsbury and walked briskly down the street towards her Aunts, just a handful of streets away.

She had arrived in a handsome cab but now felt the need to walk, her lungs drawing in gallons of the sweet afternoon air, untainted as yet by the smoke of the fires to come that evening. As she rounded the corner a hand gripped her arm above the elbow and she turned her head to find herself staring up into stormy grey eyes as Steven pulled her tight into his side and set off with her in another direction.

"We need to talk..."

"Steven I'm so sorry.."

"Not here.....there's a little park just around the corner...don't mistake me Miss Darling....I intend to listen very closely to what you have to say.....but it will have to wait until we have a measure of privacy."

Pressing her lips together, Wendy meekly allowed him to steer her down the street, his fingers digging painfully into her arm.

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Chapter: Three - Awakening to the Dream

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Peter sat at the kitchen table and brooded. The sun was sinking towards the horizon, the clock chiming the hour with monotonous regularity as he polished off the plate of stew Sara had placed in front of him not many minutes before. He'd expected Wendy to be back by now, she said afternoon when she left for Bloomsbury, but there was no sign of her. Sara had chided him and said it was hardly surprising given the nature of her visit, but Peter felt uneasy.

Mopping up the last of the gravy with a corner of bread, Peter pushed the plate away and flashed Sara one of his trademark grins, the young woman blushing before turning away to busy herself at the sink.

"I'd rather keep you a week than a fortnight, never known such a prodigious appetite, at least not since the master passed on."

"It was delicious....thank you."

"Oh get away with you....it was just my everyday stew."

They lapsed into silence, Peter staring at the table top, tracing the wood grain with a finger, while Sara prepared a tray to take up to Millicent, that formidable lady having eschewed any engagements for the evening having decided to have a light meal in her room. Peter hadn't set eyes on Wendy's Aunt since the confrontation in Wendy's bedroom, Millicent deciding to forego the pleasure of having to converse with the person who had single handedly put her house in an uproar and disrupted all her carefully laid plans.

"She should be back by now......what if something's happened to her?"

"Oh....she's be back....after all, she's not gone that far. Now, have you got a corner empty to try my apple pie....it's cold, but I've got some cream that will dress it up nicely."

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Wendy sat nervously clasping her gloved hands together, the string of her reticule biting into her wrist. Beside her Steven also sat in silence, his profile presented to her as he stared off across the small park, his legs crossed and his arm resting on the back of the bench. The small corner that served as a public park was almost empty of people, the afternoon already well advance despite the sunshine still pouring from the cloudless blue sky. They were waiting for a Nurse to pass by with her two charges, the small boys arguing fiercely over a ball as they walked. Wendy smiled at them, the boys staring back at her with wide eyes before being chivvied out of the park by their protector.

Once alone, Steven turned his face to her, his eyes alight with barely suppressed fury. Wendy kept her head downbent, apparently fascinated by the stitching on her cotton gloves.

"Is what he said true?"

Wendy jumped slightly, her head lifting as she turned to face him.

"I don't know......what did he tell you?"

"Don't play coy.....he intimated that he'd....that you had allowed him more liberty than would be expected of someone already betrothed."

"It you mean did I...." Wendy swallowed. "Did I sleep with him....then yes....it is true."

For a second Steven just stared at her, then he abruptly jumped to his feet and paced in front of her.

"Good God......I'm your husband to be and I only got a kiss from you, this....creature shows up out of the blue and somehow manages to inveigle his way into your bed.....were you drugged? Did he force you?"

Wendy could only shake her head, tears welling as she lowered her head.

Steven stared down at her, running his hand through his hair in frustration. Sitting down on the bench with a thump, he leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"I don't understand.......I thought you loved me.....I know I loved you....who is this man? What hold does he have over you to make you behave so......unlike the Wendy I know."

"I don't understand it myself....I'm so.." Wendy paused, then drew in a breath and started again. "I haven't seen Peter in nearly eight years. I last saw him when I was still only a child. At the time I was swept away, fancied myself in love with him, he was so full of life and needing so desperately to be loved. And for a time I did.....but he never returned and I grew up. I never thought to see him...ever again. Then I met you...and it was wonderful, truly it was...is....but last night....after I left you...he was there, waiting for me.....and when he touched me.....when he kissed me....it was like a madness took over....I can't explain it...it was like I started to breath when he touched me.......oh God, I am going mad..."

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know....oh Steven, I don't know, I'm so confused....I so wanted to be everything you wanted in a wife....I was happy, truly I was...."

"But now he's back......" Steven stared at the ground, his heart a rock in his chest. "I would still have you for my wife Wendy.....despite what I know now....I still love you." Wendy gasped faintly, he laughed harshly, "that surprises you, I know it surprised me. When I left you, I was ready to wreak havoc, I couldn't believe that everything was gone in the blink of an eye. When I got home, I spent a long time pacing my room, wanting to hate you....but Wendy," He turned to fix his grey eyes on her wide blue. "I found I couldn't hate you, I was willing to fight for you, I bear the bruises as witness, and I still want to fight for you......I love you."

For a long moment, Wendy could only stare back at him, her eyes swimming with tears, her lips trembling as she drew breath after ragged breath into her lungs.

"Oh Steven....you deserve so much more than me.....I'm so sorry...please believe I never meant for this to happen....I did love you.....I wanted to be your wife...."

"But now you want to be his......." Steven pressed his lips together, reading the truth in her face. "Is there any point in me fighting for you Wendy? Or have you already made your choice.....I could go on and fool myself that there's a chance....but I would be doing just that, fooling myself, wouldn't I?"

The tears had finally spilled over, sliding down her face as she rummaged in her reticule, her hand appearing, clenched around something. White faced, Wendy held out her hand, opening her fingers like petals to reveal his ring sitting in the centre of her palm.

Slowly Steven picked up the ring using only two fingers as if the delicate piece of jewellery was a venomous spider. After a cursory glance, he tucked it away in a waistcoat pocket, his head turned away once more, his eyes distant.

"That is your final answer then." He signed heavily, brushing at imaginary dust on his clean trousers. "Come, I'll escort you home."

Getting to his feet, he held out his hand to her, Wendy slipping her shaking hand into his, feeling his fingers close around hers, pulling her to her feet. Slowly they turned and walked out of the park, Wendy, her head downbent, Steven with his head high, but his expression tightly grim, Wendy's hand tucked into his elbow at his side.

At the bottom of the stairs leading up to her front door, Steven paused, disengaging her hand from his arm but keeping her hand in his.

In silence he turned her to face him, his finger tilting her chin up so that she was forced to look up at him, her cheeks still wet, her eyes filled with pain but as lovely as ever.

"I love you Wendy Darling.....and if ever......" He bit his lip, "I wish you both happy...actually I wish him to the devil," he smiled briefly, "but I wish you happy......goodbye Wendy."

"Goodbye Steven.....I.." Before she could say another word, his mouth had covered hers, his warm lips devouring hers in a desperate kiss that left her clinging for balance to his lapels, her head swimming as she submitted to his embrace. At last he released her, his breath coming in short gasps, his eyes filled with pain and disappointment.

"Be happy Wendy....." Putting his hands on her shoulder to steady her, he stepped back. Giving her one last lingering look, he turned on his heel and walked away. With stricken eyes, Wendy watched him go, the tears running unheeded down her face. She watched him until he disappeared around the corner of the next street, never once looking back at her.

For a long moment she stared at the spot where his tall figure had been, her eyes unfocussed. Above her the door opened and Sara appeared, her face screwed up with worry. When Wendy didn't move, the maid hurried down the stairs and drew the girl towards the house, an arm around her back to urge her up the stairs. In silence they entered the terraced house, Sara taking Wendy's coat, alarmed that her young mistress seemed to be shivering and close to collapse.

"Peter.....get yourself out here...." She called, but he was already there, catching Wendy in his arms as she fainted dead away, her head lolling on his shoulder as Sara fussed around them, thoroughly frightened to see Wendy's white face. Millicent appeared at the head of the stairs, crying out at the sight of Wendy in Peter's arms, her hand white knuckled on the newel post as Peter started up the stairs, his limp burden in his arms.

Millicent threw open the door to Wendy's room and Peter carried her through to lay her gently down on her newly made bed, her room once more restored to it's usual tidy state.

Sara appeared with a damp cloth while Peter sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing Wendy's hair from her face and calling to her.

"Now you leave Wendy to me, she's just overcome with everything that's been happening today....get yourself away," Pulling on Peter's arm, Sara managed to prise him away from the bed, only to have him stand just behind her as she wiped Wendy's face clean of her tears before starting to loosen her clothes. Millicent was sat down on the dressing table chair, her hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes huge in her face as she stared at her niece. Peter ignored her, his focus all on Wendy, his brow furrowed as he took in her wan face and closed eyes. Sara had removed Wendy's shoes and stockings, gloves and the pins from her hair in an effort to make her as comfortable as possible. When she bustled away with all that frippery, Peter returned to sit on the side of the bed, his hand reaching out to stroke her face, Wendy's lips parting on a sigh as she turned into his hand. A moment later her eyelashes fluttered.

"She's coming round," Peter informed the occupants of the room without turning his head. Millicent closed her eyes and muttered a prayer while Sara looked on, a small smile curving her lips as Peter bent down and kissed her young mistress, Wendy's eyes opening slowly, blinking up at Peter bending over her.

"How...h-ow did I get here?"

"You passed out downstairs, I carried you up here..."

Millicent had risen to her feet and approached the bed, her face appearing over Peter's shoulder, her brow wrinkled with worry.

"Are you alright Wendy dear? You gave us all a fright...how do you feel?"

Wendy managed a faint smile for her Aunt, her eyes flicking from her back to Peter's. "Just a little tired....just tired."

"And is it any wonder you fainted.....I bet you haven't eaten a thing all day." Sara appeared beside Millicent, her eyebrow arched as Wendy swivelled her eyes to look at her.

"I don't remember....I don't think I have had anything.....how silly....I forgot...."

"I'll fetch you something right now...." Sara nodded to herself then turned and left the bedroom. Millicent pursed her lips when Wendy's eyes returned to stare up at Peter, the older woman feeling decidedly de trop. "I'll go and give Sara a hand.....if you don't need me ?"

Wendy returned to gaze at her Aunt, smiling a little. "Thank you, dearest Aunt...I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

"Tosh m'dear.....not your fault....." Casting a fulminating glance at the oblivious young man still perched on her nieces bed, Millicent turned and left the room. Peter chuckled.

"I thought she'd never leave.....now you can tell me why to were crying and why you forgot to eat all day."

Lowering her eyes, Wendy turned her head on the pillow and looked away. "I-I...saw Steven....."

Feeling the blood start to rise, Peter bit back a rude oath, and forced himself to relax. "What did he have to say?"

"I owed him an explanation Peter.....you can't just break off an engagement, I had to explain....he deserved that at least."

"He loves you......do you love him?"

"I do....atleast I did...." She felt Peter stiffen, her head turning back so that she could look up at him again. His face looked carved from marble, a pulse leaping along his jawline, his eyes bleak. "Peter, I was going to marry him, he was going to be my husband, do you think I would marry someone I didn't care for, didn't love?"

Peter remained silent, his eyes turning a deep green as he waited for her to continue. Sighing Wendy closed her eyes and turned her head away again.

"But now.....after last night," A light flared in Peter's eyes. "Now that you've returned to me, I find that maybe I was....mistaken. What I thought was love....was only a-a...deep affection. That I really didn't know what love was at all...." Nervously, Wendy turned back to face Peter, her bottom lips pulled into her mouth.

Peter's thickly lashed eyes were gazing down at her with such a light in them that she gasped, his mouth stretched in a wide, cheeky grin that melted her insides and made her heart thump.

"Do you love me Wendy?"

Blushing, Wendy tried to turn her head away, but Peter wouldn't let her his hand cupping her cheek and keeping her facing him.

"Do you love me Wendy......because I love you......there is no doubt in my mind, and I need to know there is no doubt in yours.....do you love me?"

Drowning in his sea-green gaze, Wendy parted her lips and said the words that sealed her fate.

"I love you Peter......I always have."

Saying the words was like having a thousand butterflies let loose in her chest, her heart setting up an unsteady rhythm as she lay there, Peter's hand warm on her cheek, his handsome face alight with love and a glow that grew to encompass them both. With infinite care, Peter lowered his head until his lips brushed against her, instantly igniting a fire within them both. As he pulled away, Wendy reached up and snaked her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him back down, her lips parting as they kissed again, this time neither pulled back, the kiss deepening until the world around them melted away, only their bodies remaining tethered to the mortal plane, their hearts and senses already soaring towards heaven.

So caught up in their embrace, Sara had to cough three times before they acknowledged her presence, Wendy blushing hotly, Peter turning his head to send Sara a crooked smile that set the poor girls heart racing and the tray rattling.

"If you can bear to be parted for two second," she remarked with asperity, "yon miss needs to get this inside her....it's some of my soup and fresh bread...and a pot of tea. Now stand aside Peter,"

Submitting tamely to Sara's bullying, Peter rose from the bed while Wendy sat up, still blushing hotly. Sara arranged the bed tray over Wendy's legs, staying to pour a cup of fragrant tea while Wendy sniffed the soup appreciatively, her stomach growling. Peter stood to the side, his arms folded across his chest, watching with a gleam in his eye. Turning, Sara made shooing motions with her hands, ushering Peter out of the room. Wendy watched, trying hard not to laugh as her diminutive maid harried her lover out of her room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Licking her lips, Wendy spooned the soup to her mouth, more than happy to enjoy the simple repast, along with some peace and quiet. She loved Peter to distraction, but being with him was like standing in the eye of a storm, everything in chaos around her.

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Peter had been persuaded by Sara to take a bath. She had used the ploy to distract him from pacing outside Wendy's room.

Aunt Millicent, having been informed by her niece that Mary and George were due to arrive sometime that evening, was preparing herself to face the recriminations of her brother and sister in law, given that she was responsible for Wendy in her care. That Millicent was blameless made no matter in her own eyes, Wendy had been in her care and come to harm, although it could hardly be classed as harm, it certainly qualified as a disaster in anybodies book.

When Peter had objected to the idea of a bath, Sara had crossed her arms and pointedly looked down at his feet, Peter following her gaze, his bare, grubby toes flexing against the carpet. Giving in with a marked lack of grace, Peter followed the maid to the bath room, situated off the scullery, next to the wash house. It was a white tiled room with a copper boiler in one corner connected to one of the bath taps by a long metal pipe. The bath itself was deep and rested on four clawed feet, very ornate and entirely decadent. Free standing wooden clothes racks held an assortments of fluffy towels and a shelf above held an array of very feminine jars and bottles containing a rainbow of crystals and liquids. Next to the bath was a large square mat to take the chill from the flagstone floor, a loop pile square of carpet to soak up water and keep ones feet toasty. A small window high up in the wall was filled with obscured glass, providing light but keeping ones privacy. As Peter stared with some misgivings at the room and its contents, Sara lit the flame beneath the boiler after igniting the wall mounted gas-lamp, then bustled out to fetch some clean clothes for Peter to change into, this time making sure to include some shoes for him to try and fit. As he waited, Peter explored, his fingers testing the thickness of the towels, sniffing at the faintly lavender smell that arose from them. He next turned his attention to the shelf, picking up the curiously shaped glass jars with their ornate stoppers, pulling the corks out to sniff at the contents, sometimes rearing back if the smell proved too strong, or inhaling deeply is the scent reminded him of Wendy. Sara suddenly bustled through the door making him jump, the jar in his hand almost dropped as he juggled it before returning it to its place.

"I've found you one of the old master's suits....it'll be a bit big, but we can't help that....plus there's some shoes here....try these on."

Laying the black patent leather shoes on the floor, Sara watched as Peter gingerly pointed his toes and pushed it into the shoe. To their mutual surprise the shoes were a good fit, only needing some slight padding with socks to make them perfect. Hanging the other items from a series of hooks on the wall, Sara checked the boiler, satisfied that it was hot enough before she turned on the tap and steaming water poured into the bath. While the water turned the air to a fog, Sara approached Peter where he stood in the corner.

"Did you like any of those?" She pointed to the jars on the shelf.

"Ur....yes....this one.." He indicated a large jar with a crystal stopper that had reminded him of the smell of Wendy's hair.

Smiling to herself, Sara lifted if off the shelf, well aware of its association. Leaning over the bath she tipped some in, the water dissolving it instantly and filling the bathroom with the heady sent.

"I don't suppose it really matters if you end up smelling like a rose garden....it would be an improvement, of sorts."

"What's wrong with the way I smell?" Peter retorted, taking offence, his chin lifting, arms folded across his chest.

Sara laughed, recognising the affront to his male pride having several older brothers of her own.

"Nothing wrong..." She soothed, twinkling at his scowling face. "But after this......you'll smell even better....I'm sure that Wendy will agree with me." Turning away, she tested the water, turning off the hot tap and letting the cold run for awhile longer. Bubbles were cresting the lip of the bath and steam filled the small room. Satisfied that the bath was drawn to perfection, she turned off the cold tap and straightened up, clapping her hands together.

"Right Peter...time to shed those grubby clothes and hop in."

As she turned around to tell him she'd be in the kitchen if he needed anything, she found herself facing a very naked Golden God, Peter having already taken off the shirt and trousers, untroubled by his nudity as a babe in arms. Sara stood and gaped, having never in all her twenty five years seen such a perfect specimen of male beauty, except maybe in the marble gallery at the museum. As she stood there, Peter reached down and snagged the clothes from the floor, holding them out to her as he approached her, Sara's eyes travelling from the top of his head to his toes, a blush suffusing her face as she opened and closed her mouth in shock. Peter grinned and quirked an eyebrow when she didn't take the clothes immediately, his free hand coming up, two fingers lifting her chin to shut her mouth before she snapped out of her trance and took the bundle, now finding him even more overpowering up close.

"I-I-I-I-.....er....I-I..." Sara stammered, unable to tear her gaze from his chest.

"You'll be in the kitchen ?"

Leaning over the bath, Peter dipped his hand in, smiling at the hot, but not scalding water that coated his fingers. Shooting Sara a grin, he stepped into the bath and sank down, his hands bracing him on the sides. The bubbles rose around him until only his shoulders and head were visible, his eyes closing as the water washed over his long limbs.

Finally coming to her senses, Sara muttered something incomprehensible before marching out of the room, her eyes still dazed, her breathing rapid. Closing the door behind her she leant against it, feeling dizzy.

"Good Lord Almighty........well I never....."

Drawing in a shuddering breath, her cheeks still pink, Sara hurried away, the sound of splashing chasing her down the corridor to the kitchen.

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In the bath Peter grinned lazily, his eyes sliding shut as he luxuriated among the bubbles. Until this day he'd only ever bathed in the sea or in the waterfall pool, in both cases the water was cold, pleasant on a really hot day, but purgatory on a cold one. Soap and scented bubbles were a new and very pleasant novelty, his body tingling as he lay his head back on the rim of the bath, his hand travelling slowly over his chest and down his stomach, enjoying the lap of warm water against his arms and legs. The bath wasn't quite long enough for him to stretch out so his knees were slightly bent, resting against the enamelled sides, his legs splayed under the warm water. The scent of Wendy surrounded him, rising with the steam to tease his lungs, combining with the sensuous feel of the water to bring his body to a state of hard arousal. Sliding his hand down he gripped himself, stroking slowly, his mind supplying the images while the smell and feel of the bath evoked a sensory overload, his breath leaving his lungs in harsh gasps as he pleasured himself, his back arching away from the back of the tub as his neck twisted, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace of remembered bliss. Under the water his hand moved faster, water slopping over the rim of the bath as he brought himself to release. With his love's name on his lips his body shuddered, pouring its essence into the warm water, his neck cording as he strained back, mouth open, his body trembling with after shocks as he slowly came down from heaven, his hand releasing its grip as his heart slowed from its hectic race.

Bonelessly Peter slipped beneath the water for a few seconds before emerging, water streaming from his hair and face, his hands washing his face, combing his hair back off his brow as he blinked the soap from his eyes. As he lay there for a few moment, he contemplated how he could get Wendy to take one of these baths with him. Either that or how he could make one to use in Neverland when they finally got back there. With this pleasant thought, he ducked himself one last time before pushing himself up to stand in the bath, water streaming off his gleaming skin, all pink from the chest down and steaming slightly as it met the cooler air of the bathroom. Stepping onto the bathmat, he paused a moment, shaking himself like a dog, water flying around the room before he reached for the enticingly fluffy towels, dragging them over his body to dry off the remaining moisture, leaving him glowing. Dropping the towel to the floor he padded over to the wall and the clothes hanging there.

Slipping on the trousers, he was just fastening the buttons when a knock sounded at the door. Reaching across, he turned the handle and pulled it open, allowing Sara to enter, her eyes fixed on the bath, her back to where Peter stood, pulling the shirt on.

"Well....do I smell better?" Peter voice, close to her ear, made Sara jump and spin around. Peter was doing up the buttons on the shirt, his eyes lowered to concentrate on his fingers, hiding the expanse of tanned flesh, button by button. Swallowing, Sara ignored his obvious attractions and smiled brightly.

"I'm sure you're as sweet as a flower....now hurry yourself, Mister Darling has arrived, together with Wendy's mother, so get those shoes on."

Turning away, she pushed her sleeve up above her elbow, reaching into the bath to pull the plug before gathering up the discarded towel and throwing it over her arm. By the time she'd straightened the room, Peter had got the shoes on, nearly all the buttons on the shirt done up and the jacket slung over his arm. His hair lay flat against his head, the ends curling against his shirt collar. Sara thought he looked adorable, firmly restraining her urge to brush the few curls that persistently hung over his brow.

"Well don't just stand there.......get yourself into the kitchen...get that jacket on and I'll find you a brush."

"What do I need a brush for?"

"I'm going to give you a quick hair-cut. You want to make a good impression on the Darlings, don't you?"

"Do I?"

"For heavens sake....of course you do.....but you need a shave and a haircut, otherwise they'll think you're no better than a savage."

"Wendy like's me the way I am," Peter groused, finding himself pushed and jostled to sit at the kitchen table.

"That's as may be.....but you're not trying to present yourself as a future son-in-law to Wendy....you have to convince the parents..so hold still...this won't hurt a bit."

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Chapter: Four - Meet the Parents

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Author's Note: And you all thought I'd left town...that's on the list of things to do next week (moving house on the 16th)...but last week, well that was spent in Hospital having my gall bladder removed. Some fun that was (NOT). Very painful, but eventually lots of the good drugs as well as having an organ along with its contents of five, horse-chestnut sized stones taken away never to darken my pain threshold again. So now, after getting home on Friday 2nd(went in Sun 27th) I'm back.....and I see people have been busy with the fanfics. Great, starting to liven things up story wise around here. So, that's what I've been doing.....now on with the story. oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Wendy arrived to fetch him, she paused on the threshold of the kitchen and stared. Sara was using a clothes brush to whisk the last of the golden trimmings from the dark shoulders of the jacket, her face expressing extreme satisfaction for a job well done. Peter had his back to Wendy, his hands reaching up to comb through the drying curls, Sara batting his hand away in irritation.

"For heavens sake, I just finished combing it, leave it alone!"

"That torture was combing? My heads throbbing with all the tugging!"

Wendy smiled at Peter's petulant voice, his profile turned to her as he glared up at the maid.

"Peter?"

Her quiet voice reached him and he instantly jumped up, spinning around, his eyes locking with hers as he adjusted the jacket self consciously until Sara batted his hands away before turning a beaming face towards Wendy.

"Whatcha think? An improvement I'd say!" Sara awaited Wendy's verdict eagerly.

Peter never broke eye contact with Wendy, his mouth lifting in a crooked smile as he gestured at himself.

"Will I do?"

Drawn to him like a moth to a flame, Wendy approached across the kitchen floor until she had to tilt her head to look up at him. Slowly she let her eyes wander over him, from his neatly trimmed blond curls, over his freshly shaved smooth cheeks, to the column of his throat, down his chest; encased in a crisp white shirt, down past his waist to the gleaming leather shoes shifting as he fidgeted under her scrutiny.

Bringing her eyes back up to his face, she smiled warmly.

"You look very handsome Peter."

"How do I smell?" His forehead wrinkled as he waited for her pronouncement. Wendy shot him a surprised look before leaning forward and sniffing. A scent arose from his warm skin, a mixture of her own rose-perfumed bath crystals and something else, a cross between sunshine and warm earth, a scent she only associated with Peter.

"Nice....you smell very.....nice." She watched as his expression lightened, Peter shooting Sara a grin before turning back to Wendy.

A bell jangled and Sara jumped.

"It's the morning room, your Aunt must want the tea tray. I must hurry, now shoo, both of you....get going!"

Peter held out his crooked elbow for her, Wendy only hesitating a second before slipping her hand into the crease, Peter drawing it close to his side where it nestled warmly.

Slowly they made their way along the corridor leading to the front of the house, the door to the morning room closed. Wendy paused outside, her body starting to tremble as she prepared to present Peter to her parents. Feeling the faint tremor, Peter pulled her hand out from the crook of his elbow and held it in his, pulling Wendy around to face him. He was feeling nervous too, but buried it under his concern for her.

"We could fly away now.......you only have to say the word."

"No....this is my parents Peter....they didn't get to meet you last time....and I don't want to give them the impression I'm ashamed of you....I'm not.....this was meant to be.....we were meant to be....and I couldn't ask for a more handsome, loving husband than you."

The impassioned speech drove all her nervousness away, leaving her eyes sparkling and her face glowing. Peter's face was full of pride and mischief, his mouth swooping down to cover hers in a kiss that cast all her doubts to the wind and left her breathless and pink. Satisfied, Peter grinned down at her before reaching for the door handle and pulling her through, their fingers entwined, unbreakable.

All eyes turned to watched them as they entered the room. Millicent was sitting in an overstuffed chair, perched on the edge, her hands clasped tensely in her lap. Mary was seated sideways on the sofa, her face calm, a small smile curling her lips. George was standing beside his wife, his back to the room, his hands clasped behind the tails of his jacket. At the sound of their entrance he turned slowly to face the room, his eyes skimming over his daughter, noting her heightened colour and kiss swollen lips before turning to peer at the young man standing tall beside her. Millicent rose to her feet, twisting her handkerchief between her fingers, her eyes darting over Peter's form, the first time she'd seen him with his clothes on. As Peter turned his bright blue-green gaze her way, Millicent felt an unexpected warmth coat her cheeks, shocking her. It had been years since anyone had made her blush, but this handsome young man, with his air of confidence and wild spirit had managed to make her feel young again, his eyes catching hers only for moment before passing on to Wendy's parents, but in that moment Millicent felt a glimmer of the natural charm the boy wore like a second skin. Recovering her poise she sank back to the chair and watched as Peter exerted his magnetism on her sister-in-law, Mary Darling as susceptible as any female, her eyes glazing over as Peter smiled with the full force of his personality, the poor woman obviously as smitten as her daughter, barely managing a weak response when Wendy introduced Peter to her mother.

Only George remained unmoved as Wendy drew Peter towards her Father. George had seen the reaction the boy provoked from the women in the room, his sister blushing like a school girl, his daughter gazing starry eyed and his wife, good Lord Mary was actually batting her eyelashes at the wretched stripling. Drawing himself up to his full height, he stood with his chin raised as Peter came to stand in front of him.

The two men faced each other, each appraising the other while Wendy twittered something that neither heard, too intent on taking the measure of the other.

Peter broke the impasse first. Thrusting out his hand he suddenly smiled at George Darling, making the older man blink as he found himself pinned in place by the force of that grin.

"I'm pleased to meet you.....er....sir." Peter said the words Sara had suggested as a starter. George's hand rose automatically and he found his fingers gripped in a hand that relentlessly shook his like a dog shaking a rat. Quickly stopping Peter's over enthusiastic greeting, he extricated his fingers and flexed them for a second while the blood flowed back. The boy was certainly fit and strong, his skin aglow with health and vitality.

"Er....yes, hello Peter.....it's a....well, its good to meet you at last. Wendy had often regaled her brothers with tales of your...er exploits." George coughed into his hand before tucking his arms behind himself once more, puffing his chest out and tilting his chin again. "But this latest......er......exploit." George felt himself flounder, clearing his throat as Wendy and Peter exchanged a look before turning to face George again. "What do you have to say for yourself, young man....it won't do....."

"Father.....please..."

Wendy felt Peter's arm stiffen as he reacted to her fathers bluster, the smile slipping from Peter's lips.

"I don't know what you mean.....what would I have to say for myself?"

"What do you have to say for disporting yourself with my daughter....do you mean to marry her or not?"

A groan was heard from somewhere behind them and Wendy saw, from the corner of her eye, her mother pass a hand over her eyes at her husbands bald words. Peter, surprisingly, took no offence at Georges words, the smile coming back to curve his lips as he squeezed Wendy's hand against his side once more.

"Yes....if by marry you mean do I want to take Wendy back to Neverland to live with me there forever.....then yes."

"Oh Peter...." Wendy breathed, her eyes widening as Peter glanced down at her.

"If you'll have me Wendy......because I want you....more than anything."

"Oh Peter.....yes....yes I do."

"Now hang on..." George blustered, feeling the control slipping from his fingers as the two young people in front of him retreated into their own world, hands clasped, Peter's head lowering as Wendy's raised her face to his. Millicent sat with her mouth open, frozen in her chair as Peter claimed Wendy's kiss, drawing her into his arms, oblivious of her fathers outraged gasp or her mothers romantic sigh.

"I say.....what the devil?" George spluttered, Mary rising to her feet and joining him, her arm slipping through his, drawing his attention away from the lovers.

"Oh George.....isn't it wonderful........they're in love......Oh my dear!"

"In love.....poppycock....what about Steven? She was in love with him only yesterday...." He made to move forward but his usually meek wife held him back with an iron grip.

"Wendy is old enough to know her heart, and you remember how she was when she came back that time.....I never thought she would get over him....and it's obvious she never did."

"But Mary....I mean really.......its indecent....aren't they ever coming up for air?"

"Oh George....are we really so old? Don't you remember when you first courted me....when my mother left us alone in the parlour?"

Tearing his eyes from the still embracing couple in front of him, George gazed into the warm brown of his beautiful wife's eyes and saw all the love she had for him, and that he had for her swimming in their depths. It left him speechless.

Wendy was almost swooning again, her head spinning as Peter seemed to suck her very soul through her lips, only his arm holding her up as she clung to his lapels. Opening her eyes, she blinked up at him as he released her mouth, their faces only a breath apart.

"Come away with me to Neverland.......be mine forever Wendy."

"Forever is a very long time, Peter....do you think it will be long enough?"

As their hearts slowed, Peter held her until she felt steadier, her breathing easier, her eyes less glazed. The rest of the world suddenly came into sharp focus, along with the realisation that they were not alone. Wendy blushed rosily, her cheeks hot to the touch.

Before anyone could speak or move the door opened and Sara appeared with the tea trolley. She surveyed the tableau for a second before speaking and moving further into the parlour.

"Tea anyone?"

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The evening progressed in stilted steps, Peter and Wendy exchanging desultory conversation with her parents with the occasional interjection from her Aunt. After an hour it was brought to a close, to everyone's mutual relief. They rose to their feet to escort George and Mary Darling to the front door, Sara having called a cab after disposing of the abandoned tea trolley.

As George pulled on his coat, Sara handed Mary into her cape before melting into the background as Wendy stepped forward.

Mary kissed her daughter affectionately, giving the girl a squeeze before releasing her. For a long moment Mother and Daughter gazed at each other before breaking away, Wendy to embrace her Father, Mary to approach Peter, her hand extended. To her surprise, Peter raised her gloved hand to his lips for a kiss across her knuckles, her eyes widening before she withdrew her hand. Hoping that her husband had been too busy to notice, Mary turned hurriedly away, fussing with her cape and adjusting her pert hat in the hall mirror.

George had Wendy's hands clasped in his, his pale blue eyes intense behind his round glasses.

"We'll be back around tomorrow to discuss the arrangements, my girl. I'll have no hole-in-the-wall affair, everything must be done properly."

"Of course Father...whatever you say." Receiving her Father's loving kiss on her brow, Wendy stepped back, her Mother kissing her fondly again before turning to leave. George didn't offer to shake Peter's hand again, merely nodding curtly, receiving a similar nod from Peter in reply.

In a flurry of goodbyes, the Darlings were gone and the door shut behind them.

"Oh lord.....well, I suppose that went as well as can be expected. Wendy dear, help Sara clean up, I have one of my headaches coming on and must away to bed. I'll see you in the morning....." With a handkerchief pressed to her forehead, Millicent made her slow way up the stairs, Peter and Wendy watching her progress before turning away to re-enter the front parlour. The door had only just shut behind her when Peter scooped Wendy up into his arms and swung her around the room, her arms winding around his neck as she gasped, her hair tumbling down in disarray as Peter whirled them over to the couch where he collapsed, Wendy ending up sprawled across his lap, his arms tight around her.

"Now can we go to Neverland?"

Finding herself pressed against his chest, her nose inches from his, Wendy could only stare into his darkening eyes, her breath hitching as she struggled to breath.

Wendy continued to be silent, her mouth trying to form the words, but her lungs incapable of drawing enough breath, Peter frowned, perplexed. As Wendy fought for a breath, Peter suddenly flicked his eyes down to her chest, understanding dawning as he quickly hooked his arm under her legs and flipped her onto the couch, his hand snatching the knife from the back of his belt, the blade slicing through the front of her dress and the stays constricting her breathing. With the release of her chest, Wendy sucked in a huge breath, her body arching as sweet air flowed into her lungs.

Peter watched her worriedly as colour surged into her face, her shaking fingers plucking at the edges of her ruined dress, only a thin chemise left to cover her breasts.

At that moment, Sara entered, saw Peter crouched over Wendy with a knife, Wendy's head twisting to stare at the maid as she stood in the doorway, her hands against her cheeks in shock.

"It's alright Sara.....I-I-couldn't breath....."

"Oh my gawd....I didn't know what to think. Oh your lovely dress is ruined.....!"

Peter sat back on the sofa beside her as Wendy struggled to sit up, clutching her torn bodice together in embarrassment.

"Rather a torn dress than suffocation...why do you wear that thing?"

Peter had tucked the dagger away out of sight and now stared at the two women, baffled as to why anyone would wear such a contraption.

"It's the......fashion." Wendy explained weakly, Sara backing out of the room and leaving them alone.

"Then its a stupid fashion.....you couldn't breath....when we go to Neverland you're not allowed to bring that with you."

"Oh.....when.....not if?"

"When........how long will it take you to pack?"

Amused at his dictatorial tone, Wendy sat on the edge of the sofa and fiddled with the frayed edge of her dress, the whole garment now very uncomfortable with her stays loose around her middle and only thin silk between her and the cool air. Peter's gaze had dropped to those busy fingers, a flame igniting as he suddenly stood up.

"You've had a busy day......you'll need to rest, I'll take you up to...er...bed."

Not waiting for Wendy to agree or disagree, Peter scooped her up and marched with her out of the room and up the stairs, Wendy catching only a brief glimpse of Sara's face peeping out of the kitchen door before Peter carried her across the landing and into her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. The room was in darkness, the lamps unlit, only the moon providing any light through the lace curtains. Peter set her on her feet, his back to the window so that the moon fell on her leaving him in shadow.

"Wendy?"

"Yes Peter?"

"Am I your husband now?"

"Yes Peter."

"Can we fly to Neverland tonight.....right now?"

"If you want to Peter......but I thought...." Wendy trailed off, shrugging her shoulder slightly so that the dress fell down her arm, another shrug doing the same for the other side. She heard Peter draw in a sharp breath as the moon gilded her upper body, now only concealed by the thin silk of her chemise. Lifting her arms slowly, she pushed at the skirt and shimmied it over her hips, the whole ensemble falling to the floor in a rustle of fabric, leaving her standing in her slip and stockings. Peter appeared frozen, his face in shadow as Wendy reached up to slip first one thin strap, then the other off her shoulder, letting them fall down her arms, bearing herself to the moonlight and his gaze. Sliding the silk over her hips she let it fall to the ground as she reached up to release her hair from the few pins remaining. Finally she stepped out of her satin shoes, kicking away the dress and petticoat to one side, leaving her standing in only her stocking and the silver moonlight, her skin feeling hot and prickly under its cold glare.

"You are so beautiful." Peter's whisper glided over her as she stood there, bathed in white, her head tilting up as Peter leant forward, his hands closing over her shoulders as his warm lips claimed hers, the kiss starting off light but quickly turning passionate as Wendy threw her arms around his neck, drawing him to her. With her arms around his neck, Peter placed his hands around her waist and lifted her, her legs wrapping around his hip as his arms held her plastered to his chest, their lips never parting. Peter carried her to her bed, laying her down on her back, her legs never letting him go so that he sank down on top of her, still fully closed, and now fully aroused as well.

Tearing himself away, Peter sat up and shed his clothes, both of them now bathed in the cool glow of the moon, all silver and shadows as Peter returned to his position between her legs, his lips tracing a burning path from her mouth, over her face and down her neck to her breasts, Wendy arching up to him, her fingers tangled in his hair as he suckled and bathed her with his lips and tongue. They came together like molten silver, hot and fluid, their bodies striving to become one as they panted and gasped their passion into each others mouths, hands gripping and moulding flesh as they stroked each other to fulfilment, the only witness the moon, the only sounds ones of love and need as they shuddered against each other, their hearts pounding out their completion of a race neither wanted to end.

Hours later, Peter opened his eyes and saw Wendy sitting at her desk, a loose wrap around her body as she wrote, the pen scratching against the paper in the light from a single candle. Turning on his side, he propped his head on his hand and watched her, the candle highlighting her hair, the moon long since risen above the rooftops, still casting its cold light overhead but not longer into the bedroom.

Peter remained silent, just watching her as she wrote, his eyes heavy lidded, a smirk painting his lips. As if sensing his stare, Wendy stopped writing and raised her head, her eyes glinting as she caught the look on his face.

"You are insatiable....just let me finish this...I'll be back to bed soon...."

"Your parents?"

"I can't go without leaving them something Peter......you are not meant for this world, there is no way we could ever live here, not in the way they would expect us to...and I-I don't want to live the way they expect me to......."

"But they are your parents...."

"Yes....and there's the boys too.....they deserve an explanation."

Rolling onto his back, Peter laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the canopy over the bed. Wendy resumed her writing, the scritching of the pen the only sound in the room.

"Wendy?"

"Yes Peter?"

"I'd stay here.....in your world......if you really wanted me to."

Wendy stopped writing, her body suspended for a second before she breathed again, the pen resuming its passage across the page.

"No Peter.....this is not your world.....and once we are gone, it will not be mine either."

They lapsed into silence again. Eventually Wendy stopped writing and lay down the pen, blowing on the paper to dry the ink before folding it over several times and writing something on the cover. Getting to her feet she walked to the mantelpiece over the fireplace and propped the letter against an ornament where it would be spotted by anyone entering the room in the morning. Leaving the candle burning, she returned to the bed where Peter threw back the covers to welcome her. Slipping off the negligee, she lay down beside him as he replaced the covers before enfolding her against his warm body. They lay for a long moment, just savouring the feel of each other, Wendy listening to the beat of Peter's heart while he nuzzled at her hair.

"I'm ready to go Peter......."

"I know......we don't have to leave before dawn. Sleep....I'll wake you in good time."

Wendy snuggled under the covers, curling herself against his long limbs, her softness melting against his hard muscles.

"I love you Peter......"

"I love you to, Wendy....."

With a sigh, Wendy closed her eyes and slipped into sleep, Peter keeping watch over her as her breathing slowed and her body relaxed.

He stared into the darkness, watching the candle flicker briefly before going out, leaving only the wane of the moon to light the room. He would have to wake her in an hour or so, but until then he'd leave her to sleep. He hoped that his preparations in Neverland met with her approval, his teeth worrying his lip as he tried to think of how Neverland would compare with what Wendy had now. But it was useless to worry about it, she would be with him, that was all that mattered. She had said she loved him, and that was all he'd ever wanted.

The rest would be sorted out eventually.

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Chapter: Five - Return to Neverland.

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The trip to the second star on the right was a blur, Wendy's eyes refusing to release their tears as she held tight to Peter's hand while they crossed the horizon into the world of the Neverland.

When they spun out of control on the other side, Wendy closed her eyes and just drifted, her mind divorced from the body for a few precious seconds as gravity asserted its pull and she plunged towards the ocean disguised as star's below her.

As she fell, she spread her arms wide, her back arching as she swooped ever closer to the surface of the sea. Suddenly her descent halted, a warmth felt close to her face and body, her eyes slowly opening, blinking to find herself staring down into Peter Pan's face, an inch from her own. He was flying on his back, the water still spangled with stars, rushing past behind him, his mere presence enough to prevent her from plunging into the icy ocean. As the sky lightened around them, Peter reached for her hand, flipping himself out from under her so that he now flew beside her, once more connected, supporting her with his own magic.

Ahead the island of Neverland grew larger, its peaks and valleys cast into deep shadow as the sun rose lazily into the sky, streaks of golden light sweeping over the jungles and forests, flowers blooming in its wake as the island awoke and welcomed its Lord and Master back into its folds. The tears had long dried when Peter brought them in to land on a bald headland, its ground covered only thinly with grass, bright red clay peaking through the thin mantle, dust rising as they landed. They were standing high above the bay, on one side a white sand beach stretched in a broad curve, on the other, a dark pebbled shoreline, punctured by sharp rocks, jagged its way around the next headland. Ahead the sun finished its rise into the sky, leaving behind a haze of sunlight, the sky as blue as forget-me-nots, the jungle as verdant as the richest emerald. Behind them the sea stretched in all directions, limitless and remote, the horizon the only suggestion of an end to the expanse of blue.

At her back was the crash of waves against the cliff below them, in front of her rose the sounds of bird-life, trilling and warbling their welcome to the sun, the insects setting up a base rhythm, sawing their pleasure at the end of night and the start of a new day.

Wendy drew in a deep breath, the scent of Neverland filling her lungs, intoxicating her, leaving her light headed. For the moment she was alone, Peter forgotten as she absorbed the essence of the island, her body welcoming the return even as her heart quailed at her precipitous choice.

"Welcome to Neverland Wendy....."

"It's as beautiful as I remember Peter......simply beautiful."

"I have so much to show you.......do you remember the Jolly Roger?"

"Of course.....how could I forget Peter.....isn't it a wreck by now?"

"Nope......gave it back to the pirates. After I returned they were sitting on the beach, those that managed to make it to shore without the croc or the Mermaids getting them." Peter grinned as Wendy winced for those that never made the beach. "Without Hook to goad them on, they were pathetically pleased to see me return. I had no need to keep the ship so I left it in the bay for them."

"What did they do with it?"