25/08/06
Title: The Care and Feeding of Flying Boys
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: One - Too Many Open Windows
Rating: PG13
A young man who defies gravity meets a girl with her feet firmly planted on the ground...or so she believed.
Author's Note: For Rolletti. And Kasmira...shameless rewriting of a familiar story, with characters and plot lines ruthlessly twisted to suit the author's nefarious purpose- that being, to entertain.
Disclaimer: All the well beloved characters belong to only one author, J.M.Barrie. I'm just playing in his sandbox for a little while, no harm, no foul.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
London, 1906
It was a night cold enough to send most little children snuggling down deeper into their quilts and eiderdowns, to wish their hot water bottles were that much hotter and that their feet had another pair of socks to keep them warm. Windows were iced up on the inside despite the efforts of coal fires to keep the chill at bay, the rooms unable to dispel the fierce frost from skittering across panes, leaving behind impossibly fragile traceries to delight those few hardy enough to look.
Wendy Darling was one of those few, her slender fingers tracing the outline of white covering the glass, the tips growing numb as she continued to follow the random pattern of ice crystals, the air leaving her lungs pluming white as it condensed in the cold air against the pane.
Why she was standing in nothing more than her flannel night shift and a shawl, while the clock chimed three-o-clock in the morning, was something she would have liked an answer to herself. She couldn't remember what it was that had pulled her out of her toasty bed to wander across the carpet and stare out of the window into the frost laden world, only that something had called to her, a voice that insisted that she make the sacrifice and stand at the window. Outside, the tree that, in the summer cast welcome shade over the nursery, was now devoid of any signs of life, it's broad limbs black and bare, icicles hanging from the branches, a by-product of the last snowfall. Beyond the back wall of the terrace houses flanking on either side, she could see more houses, their windows black, the drapes drawn tight to aid keeping what heat there was inside the house. Chimney's poked above dark rooftops, the occasional one puffing up clouds of sooty smoke that hung for a moment before sinking to add to the miasma of choking pollution in the streets below. Craning her neck she could see the sky high above the chimney pots, the stars as hard and bright as diamonds. So sharp they looked capable of cutting a body to ribbons, bright knives waiting for someone to be foolish enough to go abroad before daylight, poised to plunge earthwards like so many swords of Damocles. A shiver made her pull back from the window and turn away, her fanciful musings banished as another shiver made her aware of her frozen feet and numb fingers, her nose starting to drip as well.
"You're simply imagining things, you silly girl," she admonished herself, tugging the thick shawl around her shoulders again and hurrying back to her bed, shucking her slippers before diving under the covers and laying in the indentation at the center of the feather mattress. Noticing that she'd not pulled the curtains she briefly contemplated getting back out of bed to do so, then decided just as quickly not to. Her brothers hadn't stirred and were buried, much as she was, under their thick quilts, oblivious to the cold. If they had no care for the curtains remaining open, then she didn't either.
"You were just dreaming," she scolded herself softly, tucking the edge of her blanket more tightly around her chin while drawing her legs up to take advantage of her body's heat. After a few minutes her feet had started to warm up and her nose no longer dripped, her eyes sliding shut as she gave in to sleep and forgot the voice she's thought she'd heard.
Tucked up in her warm, safe little bed, Wendy dreamed - such wild and strange dreams that seemed so vivid and real while they played out, but vanished when she awoke the next morning, banished by the sun flooding into the room, the curtains still pulled back as she'd left them the previous night. What she didn't expect was to see that the window itself was half open, a chill breeze blowing into the nursery and making her nose tingle and her breath appear white.
At that precise moment the clock on the mantle chimed seven-o-clock. Pushing back her covers, Wendy rushed over to the window and slammed it down, the noise waking her two younger brothers, their tussled heads appearing from under the mounds of their bedclothes even as Wendy rushed back to her own bed and dived under the blankets once more. A few moments later the familiar shushing sound of their mother's footsteps approaching the nursery presaged her opening the door.
"Goodness but it's cold in here!" Mary Darling exclaimed, peering first at the fire that had gone out hours ago, then at the window, a crease of perplexion furrowing her brow to see it shut. Tutting to herself, she belted her dressing gown more tightly before quickly kneeling down to set the fire going again.
"Don't you get up yet my dears, the fire will quickly warm the air up in here and make it much more pleasant. We really will need to see about keeping the fire in longer. I'll ask your father for more coal for the nursery. I can't have my babies catching cold for want of a scuttle of coke!"
While their mother coaxed the fire into life, Wendy and her brothers lay buried under their blankets. Wendy particularly lay pondering what had happened the night before, trying hard to distinguish what had been real and what had been fancy, images from her dreams coming back to her in disjointed fragments. She thought she remembered someone calling her name, the voice too insistent to ignore, dragging her out of her bed to peer confusedly out of the nursery window until cold drove her back to her bed. Then she must have slept and what followed only happened in a dream. When her mother finally pronounced the room warm enough to allow them to rise, Wendy threw back her covers and looked down at the floor to find her slippers. While her brothers hurried from the room to be the first to use the bathroom, Wendy sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought she was still asleep and dreaming. Wriggling her toes she stared as the amount of dirt covering her feet and ankles nearly up to her knees. It looked as though she'd been jumping in mud puddles half the night, the hem of her nighty similarly stained and splashed with dirt. Lifting up the bed covers she checked the end of the bed and a gasp escaped her lips when she found more dirt covering the sheets where her feet had rested. Both alarmed and surprised, Wendy hurriedly hid the evidence, while tugging her nightdress down to cover her legs.
"Well I never!"
"Never what dear?" Her mother asked, "you'd better get a move on dearest, or you'll be late for breakfast."
"Yes...what?...Oh yes, of course. Won't be a moment."
Thrusting her grubby feet into her slippers, she pulled on her dressing gown to cover her inexplicably dirty nightclothes and left the nursery, passing her brothers on the landing as they rushed back to get dressed. Entering the tiny room that serviced the family as a bathroom, Wendy slowly shut the door behind her and turned to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, much more so than she'd have expected to find after a night buried in her bed, her fingers reaching up to pluck something from the light brown strands and hold up for inspection in front of her face. The object was a tiny leafy twig with a single acorn attached. What made the twig odder than usual was it's supple greenness, the shiny green acorn looking newly minted, the leave as young and supple as only oak leaves can look when they first unfurl in the spring. Wendy stared at the twig then at her reflection.
"But it's December, nearly January...nowhere near spring."
Dropping the inexplicable plant relic into the sink, she stared once more at her face, her fingers lifting to rub at what looked like paint on one cheek. The streak of red ran from the side of her nose across her cheekbone and into her hairline, a similar line in white below that.
"Why am I wearing warpaint?" She asked the girl in the mirror, the blue eyes staring back at her carrying a wealth of confusion and no small amount of panic in their depths. "What on earth was I doing last night?"
Her mother's voice called to her and she quickly started to run some water into the sink. Hurriedly she scrubbed at her face with a washcloth before just as quickly washed away the dirt and mud coating her legs and feet, the water a dark, murky brown when she was finished. Dragging a brush through her hair, she rushed from the bathroom, not forgetting the acorn twiglet in her haste, setting that curious item down on her dressing table before attacking her clothes to change for school.
Fortunately for her peace of mind, the rest of the day passed in its usual manner with most of it spent at Miss Finchins' school for Children of Gentlemen. Later she struggled through a piano lesson with Mrs. Forbes, a neighbor four doors away, before hurrying home for her dinner. An evening of board games with her brothers ate up another passage of time and suddenly it was bedtime again. Warily, Wendy donned a clean nightdress, the previous nights attire already whisked away by the housemaid for the laundry basket, her bottom sheet likewise. Before retiring, she padded along the hall to the second best guest bedroom. Inside, her father was standing on a short ladder, a length of wallpaper hanging down as he positioned it to paste to the wall. At fifteen, Wendy was beyond the usual age of children still sleeping in a nursery, and it had been deemed time that she have a room of her own away from her boisterous brothers. She would be sorry to leave the cozy confines of the familiar room, but she also looked forward to the privacy and peace of a room that she could shut out the family from. Not that she didn't love her brothers completely, it was just that she was no longer a child, yet not quite a woman, in that difficult time and place between the two.
"Only a few more days dearest, and we'll be able to get you all moved in," her father, George Darling, grinned at her over his shoulder, the strip of wallpaper choosing to fall down at that moment and cover his head making Wendy laugh. Careful not to tear the precious paper, George pushed the strip off his head and back onto the wall, the brush in his hand holding the recalcitrant wallpaper in place. "See, have it done in no time."
"Goodnight Papa...it's looking lovely."
"Goodnight Wendy, sleep well."
Leaving her father to wrestle the reluctant wall coverings, Wendy padded back to the nursery in time to sit on her bed and listen to her mother tell Michael, the youngest, a bedtime story. Soon after, Wendy lay on her side and stared at the flickering night light set on the table near the window. A fire burned brightly in the grate, the coals heaped high to last as long as possible to keep the chill at bay.
"Goodnight dearest," her mother said, bending down to kiss her daughter. Enveloped in her mother's perfume, Wendy reached up to hug her, the pair lingering for a moment before parting. "Sweet dreams Wendy."
"Goodnight Mama,"
Warm, clean and comfortable, Wendy drifted off to sleep secure in the knowledge that her life was once more as it should be.
She awoke suddenly, her breath catching on a gasp, cold air rushing in and making her breath plume white when she breathed out. While she lay wondering nervously what had awoken her, the clock struck three time, the chimes sounding slow and ponderous to her ears, each tick in between as loud as a pistol shot. With her heart thumping in her chest, Wendy lay listening to the sounds in the room, her ears straining for the slightest clue as to what had awoken her. Across the room she could make out the humps in the beds that were her brothers, their soft snores a comfort as she turned her head to inspect the rest of the room from her limited view. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but she felt a need to make sure. Turning slowly in her bed, Wendy lifted herself up on her elbow and stared about the room. A cool breeze alerted her that the window stood open once more, the curtain moving back and forth in the chill air. The night light was no longer alight and the fire a bed of glowing coals in the darkened room.
"Oh blast it!" Jumping out of bed, not bothering with her shawl or slippers, Wendy ran across the room and tugged at the sash window, pulling it down tight before yanking the curtains across the expanse of chilled glass, shutting out the sight of the stars and rooftops beyond. Scuttling back to her bed she dived under the covers only to almost leap out again in shock.
"Oh John, you gave me such a fright, what are you doing in my bed?"
Thinking it her younger brother hiding under the blankets, Wendy put a hand out in the darkness to shove him out of her bed. Instead of the sensible flannel nightshirt her brother usually wore, Wendy encountered only bare skin, her fingers recoiling at the chill of that flesh.
"John?"
The shoulder she had so briefly touched suddenly moved and she found herself pulled further under the covers, the blankets thrown over her head and over the side, plunging her into total darkness within her own sheets. The arm that had so peremptorily snagged her, now turned her on her side, her back to whoever was in the bed with her. Before she could do more than squeak a protest, a leg was thrown over her own, pinning her in place.
Still thinking it her brother playing a prank, Wendy struggled but found herself effectively pinned by his weight and muscle, unable to do more than squirm helplessly.
"This is not funny John...let me go!"
"Just shut up and stop wriggling girl...I need to get warm!" A husky male voice ordered her, it's depth and cadence unlike either of her brothers.
Blind panic made Wendy go rigid, her heart starting to thump crazily as she finally acknowledged that whoever was in her bed was not her brother John. Someone, some male person lay stretched out on his side behind her, his body pressed tight against her back, one leg thrown over hers while one muscular arm curled around her body, just under her chest, holding her in place.
"Pl-ple-please don't hu-hurt me..." Wendy managed to get past her stiff lips, her body starting to quake with fear.
"Does it feel like I'm hurting you?" The voice inquired, sounding angry and perplexed at the same time. The body behind her shifted, pressing itself closer to her, the persons face pressed against the back of her head, his breath puffing against her hair.
"Wh-what do you want?" Wendy tried again, swallowing the lump of fear choking her throat.
"I told you...to get warm, it's a bitter night out there."
Wendy moaned softly to herself, imagining the worst. "Ar-are you a...burglar? I don't have anything very valuable..."
"Burglar? What's a burglar?"
"You're not a burglar?" Wendy asked in some surprise, confused that the young man, whoever he was, didn't seem to know his own occupation very well.
"Tell me what a burglar is, and I'll tell you if I am one."
"A-a burglar is..." she swallowed on a dry throat, "is someone who creeps into houses through open windows and steals things,"
"What sort of things?" The voice asked, his arm loosening a little around her ribs.
"Precious things I suppose," Wendy answered, her muscle still tense and ready for flight. "Jewelery, silverware...that sort of thing."
"You mean treasure?"
"I-I suppose so."
"Hook is the burglar then, not I."
"Hook?"
"He's a pirate...don't you know anything?"
"I know lots of thing," Wendy replied with some indignation. "I know that climbing in through someone's window then into their bed is not at all proper or legal!"
"What's legal?"
"Now you're the one who doesn't know anything," the arm around her middle suddenly tightened making her gasp.
"I know plenty of things, but they are not of your world..."
"Not of my world, what can you mean?"
"I mean that I don't belong in this horrid cold place."
"Oh..." Wendy paused, the body behind her shifting slightly, "then just exactly where do you belong?"
"Neverland of course."
"Neverland? I've never heard of that place, is it in South America?"
"Stupid girl, of course not."
"Well how am I supposed to know? You come in here, climbing quite illegally through the nursery window, climb very improperly into my bed then call me stupid when I don't know where Neverland is. You've some nerve!"
An exasperated sigh gusted against the back of her neck, the arm suddenly loosening and the leg lifting off her. Feeling the body behind her start to back out of her bed, Wendy quickly turned over, her hands grabbing at the torso, her fingers getting hold of a handful of leaves, anchoring the warm body beside her.
"Oh no you don't!" Wendy hissed, still unable to see much under the covers, the heat from their combined bodies making the air muggy within the blankets. "I didn't say you could just go!"
A soft laugh greeted her angry whisper, the body jerking back leaving Wendy with a handful of loose leaves and bits of vines. Throwing back the covers, her hair over her face, Wendy sat up and stared about the dark nursery.
"Where have you gone?"
"Stupid girl...look up."
Mystified Wendy did just that, her mouth dropping open when her eyes beheld a figure floating somewhere near to the ceiling beside the light fitting. The intruder appeared to be just hanging in space, his body laying parallel to her bed, but facing down, his arm crossed over his chest.
"Who are you?" Wendy asked, pushing herself back onto her pillows and craning her neck to see better. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"That!" Wendy pointed at him, her arm dropping to her side when the figure slowly lowered itself until it sat cross legged on the end of her bed.
"It's called flying," the voice answered her disparagingly, Wendy able to see him tilt his head to the side but little else, beside his silhouette. Reaching beside her bed, Wendy fumbled for the candle lamp left for emergencies during the night. This certainly qualified as one in her book and she struck the match, light flaring as she settled the glass shade over the candle, softening the flame. Turning back to face the intruder she shuffled back on her pillows, staring open mouthed at the boy sitting nonchalantly on her bed.
"Good grief, you're a boy!" she exclaimed. The boy rolled his eyes and huffed.
"And you're a girl, albeit a very silly one."
"You said you were cold, are you warm enough now?" Ignoring his rudeness, Wendy drew her legs under her and pulled her shawl about her shoulders.
"Very, thank you."
"Oh...er...good." Feeling at a loss for words, Wendy let her eyes wander over the strange boy, cataloging his features and clothing with some curiosity. He appeared to be a year or two older than herself, his body lean and rangy with long legs and arms, the limbs well rounded with muscles as if he did a great deal of climbing or heavy work. His head was topped with a riot of blond hair that curled around his face and ears in an endearing tussle, the ends ragged as if cut unevenly with a blunt knife. His face and body were deeply tanned a golden brown as if he spent every second of the day out in the sun, that skin also liberally smeared with streaks of dirt, evidence that he'd not bathed for a week or possibly more. His costume was the most remarkable outfit Wendy had ever seen, consisting of a multitude of different shaped and colored leaves, all interwoven to provide a pair of green shaggy trousers that reached from his navel to his knees, a vine crossing his chest and wound around one upper arm. Around his waist was a woven vine belt holding several items including what looked like a homemade pan-flute and a leather knife holder. A skin pouch also hung from the belt and seemed to be filled with something soft while peeping over his shoulder appeared to be the hilt of a sword hanging down his back. His feet were bare and looked as grubby as hers had done only that morning, the toes quite black with dirt, as were his fingernails and hands. Her eyes roamed up his torso and reached his face, her lips parting in a small gasp as she found herself mesmerized by the most beautiful pair of blue-green eyes she'd ever seen in a male face. Above the thickly lashed eyes were straight dark brows, one currently lifted almost to his shaggy hairline, her perusal apparently not appreciated by the object of her scrutiny.
"When you've finished staring..." the boy drew his brows together in a scowl and Wendy lowered her eyes, a flush painting her cheeks scarlet.
"I'm sorry, I know it's rude to stare, but I've never seen anyone dressed quite like you before. Is that sword real?"
"Yes and of course you haven't seen anyone dressed like this...there's only one of me."
"Oh...I see. Do you have a name?"
"Yes."
"Will you tell me your name?"
"No."
"Oh...why not?"
"I want to know your name first," the boy replied smugly, his lips tilting up in a winning smile.
"Alright...if you insist. Wendy Moira Angela Darling. Now, what's yours?"
The boy looked a little discomforted, shifting his backside against the coverlet and glancing to left and right. He was scowled again, muttering something incomprehensible into his chest.
"What was that, I didn't quite catch it?" Wendy asked, leaning forward and tilting her head to hear better.
"Peter Pan."
"I beg your pardon?"
"PETER PAN...did you hear that well enough!"
"I should think that most of the street heard you," Wendy retorted, both of them turning to face the beds occupied by John and Michael, the sound of someone turning over in their sleep and grumbling reaching the two poised on Wendy's bed. After a second the sleeper, probably John, settled down and both of the watchers let out a sigh of relief.
"Keep your voice down unless you want to explain to my father why you are in the nursery at this time of night," Wendy scolded.
"He'd have to catch me first," Peter retorted, folding his arms and puffing out his chest. "Never known a grown-up yet catch Peter Pan."
"There's always a first time," Wendy muttered, pulling her shawl about her shoulders. "And just what are you doing sneaking about the nursery?"
"You don't remember do you?"
"Remember what?"
"What we did last night?"
"Last night? I didn't do anything...last...night..." Wendy's voice tailed off, the image of her grubby feet and face flashing into her mind, her eyes rounding as she did indeed remember. "I had dirty feet this morning."
"Well you would insist of on walking instead of flying."
"What of earth do you mean? I didn't go anywhere last night, and certainly not with you!"
Peter sighed, his shoulders drooping as he stared down into his lap. "Yes, you did. We went to Neverland and you stayed a day and a night, then I brought you back."
"Don't be preposterous...I haven't been anywhere for that length of time."
"How did your feet get so dirty then?"
Wendy gaped at him, her mind swirling with half formed images, but simply incapable of believing his outrageous claim. As she tried to sort out what to say her eyes picked up something tangled in the vine attached to his arm. "I found something this morning...I didn't know where it had come from..." she reached under her pillow and produced the green acorn on its slender twig. Holding it out she pointed to a similar acorn sprouting from his vine. Peter took the twig and twirled it between his fingers, smiling.
"Oh yes...your kiss..."
"My WHAT!" Wendy cried out, Peter's hand coming up to cover her lips to silence her.
"Quiet, you'll have the whole house about our ears."
Peter still twirled the small acorn around, his eyes dancing. "You gave me something last night, and I gave you this in return...a kiss."
"But that's not a kiss, it's an acorn. Don't you know what a kiss is?"
Peter was scowling again, tossing the small piece of greenery on the bed cover and folding his brawny arms across his chest. "You told me..." He relaxed his arms and reached into the pouch at his waist. "You told me this was a kiss." He held up a small silver thimble, the tiny article perched precariously on the end of Peter's finger. Wendy stared.
"But that's my thimble."
"Then why did you tell me it was a kiss?"
"I don't know...I don't remember."
"Well if this isn't a kiss...what is?" Peter asked, looking intently at Wendy.
"Oh gracious." Wendy felt the heat rising in her face as she blushed, Peter's eyes narrowing as she ducked her head to hide her embarrassment.
"Well?" Peter insisted, leaning forward so that when Wendy lifted her head they were almost nose to nose.
"I-I can't tell you," Wendy stammered, her eyes dropping to stare at Peter's mouth for a lingering moment before she ducked her head again. Peter stared at her in some perplexity.
"Does it hurt? Is that why you won't tell me?"
"A kiss...hurt? No...at least I don't think so. I only have the ones I've given to my parents to judge by, and the one's they've given me of course." She still couldn't look at him, her hair falling forward to hide her flushed cheeks.
"Then give one to me...please Wendy," Peter earnest request brought her head up, her eyes sweeping over his face and coming to rest on his mouth again.
"It's not entirely proper for a young lady to give a boy she doesn't know a kiss, and certainly not a boy who sneaks into her bedroom and acts like a burglar."
"Wendy," Peter wheedled, drawing her name out, advancing towards her like a panther so that Wendy felt breathless and shockingly excited at the same time. Darting out her tongue she wet her lips in unconscious anticipation, Peter watching that small movement with interest.
Backed up against the headboard of her bed, Wendy found herself with her shoulders against the wood, Peter braced over her, his hands taking his weight where they rested on the edge of the decorated headboard. Wendy was having some difficulty breathing, her lips parting as she tried to draw in air, Peter's scent filling her nose with the smell of warm sunshine and sea air, all combined with the hint of trees and earth, altogether not at all unpleasant.
"How do you give someone a...kiss?" Peter asked, his eyes lit with mischief and his lips stretched wide in a grin of pure wickedness. Wendy swallowed and tilted her chin.
"You...you press your lips t-to-together with someone else's...er...lips."
"Like this?" Peter leant forward the merest fraction needed to press his closed mouth to Wendy's, the pressure lingering for an instant before he pulled back. Wendy had automatically closed her eyes, but they blinked open when Peter withdrew. Peter was grinning at her with his head on one side.
"Why did you shut your eyes?"
Flustered Wendy looked away, inordinately disappointed with her first kiss. "It's what a lady does...when she's kissed by a gentleman, or so I understand."
"Oh...alright, can we try that again. This time I'll close my eyes."
With her heart fluttering in her chest, Wendy tilted her chin once more and Peter ducked his head, their lips meeting and holding, this time lingering and sliding, experimenting with pressure and position until Peter drew away once more. As if tasting a new flavor he licked his lips, appearing to contemplate what had just taken place before making a pronouncement. "I like it."
"You do?" Wendy felt both elated and slightly frustrated, the kiss lasting no longer than a few seconds, her curiosity peaked but not satisfied. "Do you think..." She paused, Peter once more staring intently, waiting for her to continue. "Do you think you'd like to...do it again?"
In answer Peter leant forward, his arm muscles bulging as he flexed his elbows to lower him sufficiently so that his lips met hers with flattering enthusiasm, the seconds ticking by as they explored the texture and sensations of their first real kiss. Breathless, they broke apart, eyes wide and chests heaving to suck in much needed oxygen. Peter sat back on his heels, his eyes never leaving Wendy's as they both experienced the intense physical reactions to kissing.
"Oh my..." Wendy breathed, her lips tingling and her cheeks hot. In fact she felt hot all over, her skin flushed as if she'd been sitting in the sun too long. Peter appeared to be similarly affected, gasping to draw in much needed air, his eyes bright, his cheekbones dark with color. Sinking down onto her pillows, Wendy pressed her hands against her chest, feeling her heart fluttering under her nightdress. Suddenly she felt the overwhelming urge to giggle, the soft sound muted at first, then breaking out so that she was forced to turn on her side and muffle the sound in her pillow. Peter felt a similar urge, his lips tilting into a grin, his eyes dancing. In the light from the candle, Wendy's hair gleamed like burnished gold, the shaking of her shoulders making it ripple down her back like a river. He reached out a hand to touch it, but the sight of his incredibly grubby fingers against the white of her nightdress made him pull back, Peter scowling down at the dirt as if to banish it with thought alone. Holding out both hands he stared at the grime, the condition repeated on his legs and feet, his toes positively black. Suddenly embarrassed to be sitting on Wendy's clean coverlet in all his dirt, Peter clambered off the bed and started to walk across the room towards the window.
Feeling the bed move, Wendy's giggles mysteriously vanished and she raised her head, alarmed when Peter started to walk away.
"Oh wait, please don't go. I'm sorry I laughed..." She scrambled off the side of the bed and ran after him, Peter stopping suddenly to swing around. Wendy cannoned into him, his arms catching her from falling while bringing them flush against each other. Peter was a half-head taller than her, his hands, gripping her waist, much broader than her own, the strength in his arms easily holding her steady until she found her feet. Away from the bedside candle, his face was in shadow, Wendy unable to read his expression in the darkness.
"I'm sorry I laughed. I didn't mean to embarrass you," she curled her own hands around his arms, feeling the flex of hard muscle under her fingertips. Abruptly Peter pushed her away, dropping his hands and jerking his arms to make her let go.
"I have to go," he mumbled, turning away from her and heading once more for the window, his hands yanking the curtains back to reveal the glass behind.
"But you can't go...you haven't told me what happened last night? How my feet got so muddy...where did I go and what did I do?"
He had the sash up and the window open, a cold blast of wintry air chilling them both instantly.
"Oh please Peter..." Wendy reached out her hand, not knowing how to stop him as he sat on the sill and lifted his legs out of the window. Her fingers were suddenly clasped in his, pulling her towards the opening, pulling her towards Peter who perched on the ledge outside, seemingly impervious to the cold. Wendy tried to resist but the strength behind the grip of his fingers was too much for her to pull away. Shivering in the cold air she found herself manhandled through the open window to stand on the small ledge outside, her hair blowing about her face as she stared in abject terror at the drop to the ground below. Tearing her eyes away from the drop, she stared instead at Peter, his blond curls dancing around his head, his eyes so bright and intense she felt mesmerized, the world reducing down to just his gaze, locked on hers. Energy seemed to be radiating from all around him, his skin glowing as if infused with sunshine, his costume of leaves fluttering as if still attached to their branches, the air almost crackling with suppressed excitement.
"I want to take you to Neverland..I want to show you all there is to see...come away with me, Wendy. Come away to a place where it's never cold, where you can swim in warm seas and walk on hot sand."
"But Peter...my family...my brothers...I can't leave them!" Wendy tried to pull back but found his arm, like a steel bar behind her back, prevented her.
"Forget them...forget them all. I'll teach you to ride the winds' back, to soar among the clouds and swoop above the trees. We'll dance through the stars Wendy...come with me and let me show you how."
Both entranced and terrified, Wendy stood undecided, his warmth enveloping her and chasing the chills away, his face coming closer until his lips once more pressed against hers, their heat infusing her with thrilling shivers that made her press her body closer, her hands finding their way to his shoulders as they kissed, her body jerking in surprise when his tongue touched her closed mouth. Pulling back Wendy stared into his eyes, stars appearing to swirl in their depths, her feet seemingly no longer touching the icy ledge as his arms held her effortlessly.
"Peter...I..." she started to say then stopped, her glance going over his shoulder to stare in shock at the nursery window now several feet behind them. Peter just quirked an eyebrow and smirked, his eyes darting down then up, Wendy followed his silent suggestion, looking down and seeing her bare toes suspended a long way from the ground. Quickly she squeezed her eyes shut, flinging her arms around his neck to hold herself close.
"Oh my goodness...we're...we're...floating!" She managed to squeak, burying her face against his neck to shut out the sight of the ground so far below.
"We're flying Wendy. I won't drop you...look around, you're quite safe."
They were directly over the back garden, the tree beside them, it's branches stark against the clear sky. Through the now distant nursery window Wendy could just see her bedside candle flickering in the draft from the open window. Even as she watched the flame was blown out, plunging the room into darkness.
"I'm afraid..." she whispered, her eyes wide and dark as she pulled back, loosening her grip on his neck to see his face better.
"I won't let anything harm you Wendy...I promise, as I promised you last night, and the night before."
"Did I kiss you all those other times too?"
"No," Peter grinned, "this was the first time you kissed me."
"Oh...but why don't I remember those other times?"
"Because...I didn't want you to remember. I usually only visit once or twice, never the same house each time. They never remember my visits, only in their dreams occasionally."
"Will I remember Peter?"
"Oh yes...that's why I came back. I wanted you to remember, to never forget...especially now that you've kissed me."
"Oh," Wendy could feel her face getting warm again and buried it back against his neck.
"Are you ready to go Wendy?"
"I don't know...my mother and father...will I see them again?"
Peter shrugged. "If you want to. Neverland is magic Wendy, what will seem like days to you will be but hours to them."
"Magic?"
"Old magic...fairy magic. Neverland is full of it."
Looking down, Wendy could believe that wholeheartedly. "Will it take us long to get to Neverland?"
"Only as long as you wish it." Peter whispered against her hair, his arms supporting her easily as they slowly spun in the air. He felt Wendy draw in a big breath, her head lifting slowly from his shoulder, her eyes dark blue pools of barely suppressed excitement.
"Take me with you to Neverland Peter...I want to see this place you say is full of magic."
"Then away we go."
Wendy saw a glow envelop them, then the ground dropped away, her stomach lurching as they speedily ascended into the sky, London laid out below like a map. The buildings were getting smaller by the second, clouds started to obscure the details as they rose higher still. Feeling her head swirl with vertigo, Wendy squeezed her eyes shut and hung on, Peter's arm keeping her held tight against his body, her heart pounding against her chest wall.
"Open your eyes Wendy and look," Peter whispered, his voice penetrating the thundering of her heart. Lifting her head, Wendy stared entranced at the multitude of colors swirling around them, the heavens punctuated with huge sprawling ribbons of stars, their brightness only fractionally dimmed by the multicolored gas clouds surrounding them. Huge planets spun slowly past, some with rings, some with moons, all of them tightly packed as if crowded into one small part of the cosmos, the bright pinpoints of light like streaks as they sped through, one star appearing brighter.
"Hold on tight Wendy, don't let go," Peter instructed her as they flew like an arrow towards the brightest star, bursting through it's heart to emerge on the other side into darkness. They tumbled downwards, spiraling over and over until Wendy felt sick, the blackness scattered with points of light all around them. Slowly they stopped spinning, Peter loosening his grip on her.
"Do you trust me Wendy?"
"I suppose so..." she answered shakily.
"Let go."
"What?!"
"Hold on to my hand, but otherwise let go."
Cautiously, Wendy did as he asked, her hand gripping his in a vice-like hold but sliding her arms from around his neck so that she seemed to be floating free of him. It was if she was supported by a mattress of air, her limbs held effortlessly a she flew through the air, her initial terror giving way to curious wonder, her stiff face relaxing into a wide smile as nothing un-towards happened. They were now side by side, flying leisurely above a body of water in which the stars shone as in a mirror. Peter reached down and trailed his hand along the surface making the image ripple and break up before tugging Wendy upwards towards the clouds becoming visible in the sky above their heads. In front of them an island started to take shape, the sun rising behind the tall peaks and leaving the island in silhouette as Peter and Wendy approached. As they got closer the sun suddenly broached the islands mountain range, flooding the sky with bright light, the ball of flame rising much quicker than you would expect, at least it seemed that way to Wendy's surprised gaze. When they reached the tiny offshore islands the sun was already climbing to it's zenith, it's warmth reaching out to them and dispelling any lingering chill from their trip through the stars. Peter had drawn them up high enough to be able to look down on the tropical island below, it's rocky shore bordered by lush green jungle, the trees growing tall and thickly together, hiding the ground from view. Deep valleys and soaring mountain peaks undulated along the spine of the island, occasional glimpses of bright ribbons of water showing rivers and streams snaking across the slopes and flatlands as they flew past. The sun had finally stopped its hectic race into the sky, settling for a position just short of midday, although it had taken only minutes to reach that point in the sky. As they flew past a particularly high peak, Wendy saw something bright rise up out of the jungle and streak towards them, leaving a trail of sparkling dust behind it. Peter hadn't slowed and they appeared to leave whatever it was behind them, but that was not the case. The glowing trail overtook them as they circled behind a snowy ridge, the creature that produced the glittering wake circling around them both with the sound of an angry bee. Wendy couldn't tell if it was a bird or a bug, the creature moving too fast to discern it's nature, but that all changed when she felt it grab hold of her hair and pull. Hard.
Reflexively Wendy let go of Peter's hand and grabbed her hair, attempting to relieve the pressure on her stinging scalp. With Peter's magic no longer buoying her up she started to plummet, her body twisting as she fell, her screams piercing as she gave in to understandable panic. Peter swore loudly and dove downwards, the glowing creature that had caused the upset staying where it was and watching intently. Peter put on a burst of speed and managed to get under Wendy, catching her in his arms before she hit the canopy of jungle waiting to swallow her up. The force of the collision knocked the wind out of Wendy and she lay gasping in his arms as he flew them both towards a small hilltop, bare of vegetation. When he touched down he lowered Wendy's legs for her to stand, her knees buckling as soon as they touched the ground, the poor girl fainting dead away in his arms.
"Wendy?" Peter called to her in a panic,but she didn't rouse, her body boneless and insensible. Kneeling down he gently lay her down among the sweet grasses, his hand cradling her head. The mischief making sprite was slowly flying downwards to where Peter crouched, her sparkling trail not so brightly lit as before when she's been so furious. Now she was just curious to see if she'd killed the horrid Wendy creature for good this time. She buzzed around Peter's head, careful to keep beyond his arms reach, her body dancing back and forth to get a better view of the girl laying on the ground.
"Is she dead?" Tink was imprudent enough to ask. Like a snake striking, Peter closed his hand around his fairy companion and held the creature prisoner.
"If Wendy breathes her last, you will follow her within seconds!"
Tink stared in some consternation into Peter's furious face, her aura of smug satisfaction turning to a pale glow of apology, her sudden change of temper not appeasing the young man holding her.
"And don't think I'll forgive your for this days mischief. I banish you from my sight, Tinkerbell. Be gone and don't come back."
Opening his hand he flung the fairy sprite as far as he could, the creature hitting the ground in a shower of fairy dust, one wing sadly crumpled from his rough handling. Disbelieving, Tink rose into the air and tried to approach him, her former buzz of anger turning to the tinkling sound of tiny bells as she tried to mollify his anger with her show of contrition. Peter remained unmoved, his attention all on the girl still laying unconscious at his feet.
"Go away Tink...this is one prank you won't wheedle your way out of this time."
In a flash of temper, Tink turned bright red and tiny flames danced around her body like she'd caught fire. Incensed, she flew directly at Peter's face, his hand swatting at her as if she was an insect. Just barely avoiding his attempt to brush her off, Tink flew up and away into the sky, a red ball of outrage, her passage marked by a thin trail of smoke.
Peter sat on his haunches and stared down at Wendy, his brows pulled together in a fierce scowl as he contemplated how to wake her from her insensate state. He remembered a story about a princess awoken from her slumber by a kiss, the idea making him laugh at the time he'd heard it. Now it didn't seem so fanciful having experienced the magical qualities of a kiss for himself. Bending down he pressed his warm lips to Wendy's, moving them over hers but getting no answering pressure for his efforts. Pulling back he stared down at her face and marveled anew at how her features seemed to please him so much.
Like all boys Peter had his share of arrogant over-confidence, sure in himself that he could charm the birds from the trees if he only put his mind to it. Girls were not that dissimilar to birds, their chatter reminding him of a flock of parrots sometimes. He'd known many girls in his travels between his world and theirs, their reactions to his appearance ranging from lascivious curiosity to shrieking terror. Only a few merited bringing to Neverland, and among those few only one had held his interest for more than one visit. That interest hadn't waned one fraction, and now with the discovery of kissing, his curiosity was starting to know no bounds.
In all the many years that he'd lived in Neverland, he never, before now, felt the need for a human female companion, his memories of his mother giving him a dread of managing women who only wanted to plan his future down to the smallest detail. Peter had been happy to be the eternal boy, the children brought to his world as his companions more than enough of a diversion for his insatiable need to be Master and Commander of his world. When Peter had told Wendy that timed passed differently in Neverland he was telling the truth, but only up to a point. True, Neverland had it's own way of counting the years, but more truly, Neverland slowed time down to keep the reason for its creation alive for as long as possible. Maybe not immortal, but as close as the magical world could render.
Neverland was a world separate from the one Wendy inhabited. Here were none of the mechanical marvels that were turning Wendy's world into one barely recognizable to anyone born the previous century. Machines were being invented and put into use faster than people could become used to them, and war was looming ever closer on the horizon. Neverland was bubble in time, a place where seventeenth century pirates still sailed the seas in eighteenth century ships, the Jolly Roger held captive in the waters around the island, another plaything to relieve the Pan's boredom and provide the excitement needed to keep him also a captive. But Neverland could not entirely stop the Pan from growing, from the tiny babe first brought to it's shores, carried on the dreams and desires of the fairies, to the strapping young man now it's master, the island could only watch him grow, knowing that eventually it's magic would not be sufficient to keep him within it's boundaries unless they let him go beyond and explore the real world of humans with all it's temptations.
Now it waited patiently for it's purpose to make his choice, whether to fly for the last time back to the world beyond the stars, or to stay within it's sheltering cocoon, the human world left to it's own devices.
It could only watch and wait, its creatures both magical and mortal held in thrall while their protector, sustainer and creator made the ultimate choice.
For now, such weighty consideration were not uppermost in Peter's mind, his entire focus on the slim girl laying at his feet.
At length Wendy started to recover from her swoon, her eyelids fluttering as she regained her senses. Peter leant over her, shading her face from the sun, her first view of Neverland after her fall being Peter's concerned face peering down at her.
"Wendy?"
"Oh my head...what happened?"
"Tink happened."
"Tink?"
"I've banished her, so you don't have to worry about her again, at least until I forgive her."
"Tink?" Wendy repeated, accepting his hand to help her sit upright.
"Tinkerbell...she's a fairy with a horrible temper."
"A fairy? But surely, there's no such thing as..." Wendy got no further, Peter's hand clamping over her mouth to stop her saying the fateful words that would condemn a fairy somewhere to drop down dead.
"Don't ever say that Wendy. To say that is the death of a fairy somewhere, usually the closest to you when you say it. Please, not even in jest." He lifted his hand and Wendy nodded her compliance.
"I'm sorry...I didn't know. I promise I won't say it again...ever." She smiled shyly, Peter returning her smile with a sunny grin of his own. Jumping to his feet he spun around like a boy half his age, his arms flung out wide in joyous abandon.
"Welcome to Neverland Wendy!"
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
tbc...