OK so I have no idea when I wrote this or why, but I just found it in my computer and thought it was cute. Sorry it has no end and is random as hell, but perhaps I will continue it somehow. I am still working on my other peter pan story btw :)

1=1

It had been a long time sense Wendy and her brothers left. A long, long, loooong time. Or so it seemed to peter.

It had to have been a long time. Because sense then, much had changed. New lost boys had taken the place of the old; Many more lost boys. So many so that they had to expand their hide out.. if you could still call it that. It wasn't exactly 'hidden' anymore.

Peter lay in his hammock like bed, gently swaying back and forth in it, absently playing familiar song on his pan flute. His mind was absorbed in Wendy and the other old friends he had lost long ago. He focused on the way they looked back then; their clothes, their hair, the way their voice sounded. He wanted to remember as best he could. Specifically how they were in Neverland… not back in London.

Peter had visited Wendy and the boys a few times after they left. He never let them know he was there of course; he hid and listened to the stories Wendy would tell about him, then left quickly, not wanting to be noticed. He was never sure why he couldn't get himself to speak to them. To this day he couldn't quite understand… but he was still glad he hadn't.

The very last time he visited… was a bit difficult. He showed up to hear a story again, same as always, but he noticed something. They looked different. All of them.

They were growing up.

So, that was the last time he visited. And that was not how he wanted to remember them.

It was then he realized the tune he was playing on his pan flute; it was a song Wendy would sing to the boys as they fell asleep.

With a grunt, he tossed the flute across the room, pleased when it made a loud thud against the wall. Stupid Wendy. Stupid lost boys. How dare they grow up! Why would they want to?

Peter leapt up and walked to the exit of his room, pausing to look back at his abused pan flute before leaving.

He had his own entrance and exit to the old hideout spot. The 'original' hideout spot he supposed. No other lost boys used it because it led almost directly in and out of his room and didn't lead into the main area of it. Peter took it to the surface and was startled to notice what time of day it was. Almost night?

"Peter! Bout time!" A boy hollered behind him. Peter gave a lazy stretch before giving the irritated sounding kid any acknowledgement.

"what?" he seemed less than interested.

"The redskins are throwing a party tonight! Your supposed to show up!" The kid seemed very anxious, paint covering half of his face. A supposed attempt to copy the indian's festive markings Peter guessed. "You promised Tigarlilly, member?"

"Did I?" Peter asked, showing just a little more interest. "Oh yeah, I saved her from the silvertins right?" He gave a laugh. "almost forgot about that. It was a good thing I showed up right in the nick of time or she-"

"Yeah yeah I was there, we need to go soon!" The boy cut him off, his anxiety turning more to excitement. Peter just smirked, twisting his torso and cracking his back before looking around him.

"Well what are you waiting for?" He hollered before leaping into the air. "Get the other boys and lets head out!" He gracefully flew forward towards the new 'hideout' and gave his rooster call so all would hear him.

The party was exciting as ever, thunderous booming of the Indian drums, screaming and hollering of the dancing around the huge bon fire, young boys mixed in with the much taller natives as they all danced together spastically. It was exciting and noisy, just the way Peter and the boys liked it.

So why wasn't peter enjoying himself?

He sat away from the fire, leaning against the head chiefs tepee, just watching the others. There were so many people dancing… There were so many more lost boys than there used to be; at least 50 of them were up and dancing, and it seemed there were more Indians as well.

Peter watched the crowed of people enjoy themselves, dancing and singing to the Indian beats. This had to be the first time Peter wasn't dancing along with them, leading the way. For some reason he just didn't want to. His mood was less than entertained at the idea of jumping around and hollering. He couldn't help but note that these parties were becoming rather repetitive.

"Peter!" Came a high pitched voice. It was Tigerlilly, exiting the tent before her father (which was odd, usually she made her grand entrance with her father and the others in charge just before the feast). She gave a wide bow to him before quickly plopping down next to him.

Peter smiled at her, giving an awkward bow back the best he could sitting down.

"Tigarlilly! Your out early," he said off handedly. He was very happy to have her company; his mood quickly lightening as his eyes rested on her sun kissed face.

"I wanted to see you before the feast, to personally thank you." He face was glowing with warmth as she spoke to him, her deep brown eyes sparkling as they examined the blond haired boy.

Peter laughed proudly "it was nothing! Saving pretty girls like you comes natural to a guy like me" He puffed up his chest as he said this, lifting his head proudly.

He couldn't help but notice her expression alter dramatically after he said this, her smile dropping slightly and color filling her cheeks. Her eyes darted away from the boy's blue ones, examining the bonfire before them. "Ive never heard you call me pretty before," She said quietly, before her smile grew wide once again. "You think I am?"

Had he said the word 'pretty'? He couldn't quite remember… that's not like him anyway. The sudden reaction from Tigerlilly threw him off a bit though, wondering exactly what she was thinking.

His hunched slightly, a bit unsure of his answer. "uh, sure. Your pretty." That sounded very strange coming from his mouth. But he didn't bother with it, as Tigerlilly's delighted expression assured him it was the right answer, though her face grew darker in color.

Pan smiled back at her, though leaned away ever so slightly after noticing she had been leaning closer to him.

"So, why aren't you out dancing with the others?" Tigerlilly asked curiously, brushing one of her braids absently.

"Bah, too many people up there. No room," He explained. Yeah.. what other reason would there be anyway? Made sense. Tigerlilly nodded at the answer, quite happy he chose to pass dancing so she could spend time with him.

"Ah, your tribe continues to grow!" she agreed, noting the large crowed. "How do you lead so many people by yourself? Even my father has trouble with our tribe at times."

Peter barely registered the question, his eyes focused on noting the large crowed, and how much bigger it was then the last time they were here. His mind went back to all that time ago when there were only six lost boys, 2 brothers, and one mother…

"Trouble? No one would dare cause trouble," he scowled "Or id slit their throat!" He drew his thumb across his neck dramatically, emphasizing his ferociousness. Tigerlilly seemed delighted by this answer.

"A true leader." She beamed.

They sat and talked for a little while; all Peter's discomfort fading at having someone to talk to. He couldn't quite remember what his problem was in the first place; he was quite content just talking. Of course, it was more story telling. Peter told the story of the SilverTins to Tigerlilly, and even though she was there and obviously knew what happened, she listened intently, oooh-ing and ah-ing at all the right places, never faulting to compliment how brave Peter looked through out.

"And in the end, the beautiful princess was saved! And Peter left victoriously!" Thus ended his enthusiastic recap. But instead of the excited cheer at the end from Tigerlilly like he had expected, she faded into silence again, that dark hue filling her face again.

"Why does your face keep doing that?" Peter asked after a moment of examining the girl's reaction. He couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed at her lack of cheer; he was sure the story was told flawlessly! Maybe he wasn't the best story teller…

Tigerlilly giggled, before leaning over and rubbing her nose against Peters.

Peter, having had that be the last thing he expected, gave a none too gracefull flail at the sudden show of affection, but he was able to contain himself well enough to avoid smacking her in the face.

"I must meet with my father now, the feast will begin soon." Standing, she gave another bow and left.

Peter didn't bow back, he was still a trying to act as though he hadn't just dramatically flailed. But he did smile and nod at her as she left. Guess Peter was a better story teller than he thought!

The rest of the night Peter was much more uplifted. He accepted the honorable crowning of feathers the Chief awarded him after announcing his great triumph in saving his daughter. Apparently all he needed was a little attention.

Not that he doesn't get enough of that already. Maybe he just needed… to talk to someone? Peter could only assume so; he doesn't usually have in depth conversations with the lost boys. A lot of ordering around (which he didn't particularly enjoy, but the boys practically begged for leadership), but not much casual talking.

That night he was feeling much less gloomy, and for that he was grateful.