Peter Pan © Disney/Barrie

Text, Luke Augustine Kingston © paladinofthelantern(me)

Composed With Calmly Writer Online

Word Count:749

"You're…what?"

"Pregnant."

Peter Pan lowered himself into his favorite arm chair, a hand to his forehead. Wendy sat down in her own beside him, gingerly touching his arm in a gesture of comfort. She still could not believe that the boy who was determined not to age in the slightest was now a twenty-nine year old man. His childish features had vanished, replaced by those befitting an adult. That wasn't to say her husband did not have a youthful spirit, however. No, he was still the same person inside.

"I can't believe this. How did this happen?"

"Did your father not teach you how children are made?" she asked with a smile, hoping to lighten the situation.

"No, I know all about that."

"Then are you upset?"

Peter turned to face her then, cupping her face in his hand.

"Wendy Moira Angela Darling Kingston," he stated, using the surname he had taken when he had been adopted. "I could not be happier that I am having a child with the most wonderful person on Earth. I'm merely befuddled as to how I am going to raise a child. I've never been a father before."

"Sweetheart, I've never been a mother before. Besides, you've taken care of the Lost Boys."

"Yes, but it was my own father who took them in after we left Never Land. One man raising seven children. Even with servants to help I'm still amazed he managed it."

"You helped take care of them as well, did you not?"

"I did, whenever I wasn't studying. Oh, how I loathed having to sit at a desk all day only to have to come home to more schoolwork."

"I must say it payed off. You're now one of the best professors in London."

"You're just saying that because you're married to me aren't you?" Peter asked with a smirk.

"Well, that does play a part in it. I wouldn't want anyone else, though."

Wendy leaned towards him and pressed her lips against his, taking the opportunity to run her fingers through his short hair that was some shade between red and brown. Peter returned the gesture in kind, sliding his right hand down her arm until he grasped her delicate hand in his. They broke apart, Peter guiding her into his lap. He rested his chin on her head, reveling in the fact that she was with him.

He was forever grateful to his father, Luke Augustine Kingston. Of course, he knew very well that was not the man's real name. No, he had been called by many over his long span of existence. Peter did not know his father's exact age; Luke himself often said he was unaware of it. After all, he wasn't even human and thus did not age like them. Luke was something Peter had never even knew could take a physical form: desire itself.

Luke had explained to Peter that he was not the base want of men, although that too took on an earthly shape. He was the desire to do good, to honor one's family, and, above all, to do as God commanded in order to achieve a wealth beyond mortal comprehension. He was forever hindered and hounded by Lust, who would clothe himself in Desire's likeness to fool the weak. Peter had a hard time understanding it all. Whatever the case, he was grateful for the opportunity Luke had given him.

"What shall we call them?"

"Huh?" Peter questioned, snapping out of his thoughts.

"What are we going to name the baby?"

"Hm. Well, I've always liked Daniel."

"Because of the Bible story?"

"Of course. You would have to be quite brave to face a pride full of hungry lions."

"What if we have a girl?"

That had Peter dumbfounded.

"I'm not sure. I can't seem to think of any."

"I think Jane would be a lovely name."

"Because of your grandmother?"

"Yes. I miss her so. After all, where do you think I got all those stories of you from?"

"Jane it is then," Peter said with a grin.

Tenderly, he ran a hand over Wendy's abdomen, marveling that in her womb was part of him and part of her melded together in a precious child. He missed Never Land, to be sure, but he would not give his life with Wendy up for a thousand Never Lands. Here, he felt more at home than anywhere else.

There is no one in my place, for I am called husband.