Disclaimer: Peter Pan, all characters, places, and related terms belong to J. M. Barrie and NBC.
Dedicated: To NickeltheRed and sultal. Merry Christmas!
A Christmas Thimble
Peter had not been aware of it then. That fateful night his attention had been taken up with his shadow, Tink, stories, kisses, getting a mother (and new boys, too!), teaching how to fly, leaving London far behind. There had been no possibility of the boy noticing, wondering…
Neverland was fun, exciting, and dangerous with Tiger Lily and her Indians, Hook and his crew, and he and his Lost Boys. Peter Pan grinned at the Darlings' wonder and delight at it all, more than once stepping in as Captain, reminding them that they had to be careful on the island.
The boat ride he shared with Wendy was the first time he had been alone with the girl since whisking her away from the nursery. Seated close to his back as he rowed, heat seemed to radiate from the blond-haired girl while she quietly hummed under her breath, her gaze an odd weight when it frequently fell upon the boy. Peter had frowned over it all – unfamiliar and beyond his understanding. So he ignored the strange warmth and how the humming wrapped around him. Then Tiger Lily was in need of rescuing, and he quite forgot everything else.
As time passed, the magical boy found his eyes lingering as Wendy tucked the boys in night after night, her manner kind, words gentle. Curiosity sparked in Peter when the girl brushed her lips against the lads' cheeks or foreheads and their faces broke out into content smiles. But if she looked towards him, he swiftly turned his face away and busied himself with sharpening his dagger.
He took no formal farewell of Wendy following her and the boys' rescue. Simply announcing after the end of the confrontation abroad the Jolly Rodger that Tink would see them back to London, and crowing proudly, rousing the Indians and boys to loud cheers, Peter hid himself away. Something in him was still shaken by everything that had occurred since the children had decided to return home. How he had for a heartbeat almost permitted Wendy to touch him. How a tingle continued to race down his spine like an itch that wouldn't go away. How he wanted to ask the girl again what a thimble was. No, he could not face her.
Moons slipped by. Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter…
This time the boy properly took in the snow-covered landscape, the twinkling lights, the holly and ivy, decorated trees, the singing and laughter, the exchanging of packages in numerous windows. He passed by them all, the magic in the air leading him on.
The window was open. Head resting against the glass panes, the girl slept. Soundlessly Peter landed on the cushion beside her. She looked just as he remembered. His mouth tugging into a cocky smile, he only hesitated for a moment before obeying the thought that pulled on his ear. Holding his breath, he leant forward and touched his dry mouth to Wendy's brow. The girl sighed, yet did not wake.
Drawing back slightly, Peter cocked his head at her. "Wake up, Wendy," he whispered, his lips brushing hers.
Oh! There was that tingle again, warmness washing over him, the magic singing, and… And soft fingers were touching his hand, sparkling blue eyes gazing into his, a bright smile matching his own.
"Peter!"
And they all lived happily ever after.
THE END