(prompt from confusedanon: if Brittany is Peter Pan, is Santana Wendy? me: no, Hook, and you have to rewrite the whole thing)
Hook, Line, and Sinker
The wig and coat had become too much in this climate. Even just the buttons had. The hook simply added insult. As Santana fought the child who would never grow up, she looked for an opening, but he was too quick and stronger than one might imagine. His blue eyes flashed as he lunged, and she nearly lost her footing.
That loathsome crocodile waited below.
Hook and Peter squared off again. It was as if all the lost boys and all the pirates had vanished, their cheering and jeering silenced by their engagement. Hook feinted, then managed to grasp the boy by the arm with her hook. She pulled him in close and smelled... vanilla? With her blade, she tipped off his cap, and silky blonde hair fell down... her? shoulders...?
The... the girl... smiled at Hook and tipped off the hat and with it the wig. For the first time in many years, Santana's own hair lifted in the breeze. It felt good (oh god) it felt good. Hook dropped her weapon. Pan dropped hers. The Pan gently removed the hook from her arm, then from Hook's arm. It was a costume piece, nothing more, after all.
Time stopped.
"I'm Brittany," said the Pan.
"I'm Santana," said Hook, "Where have you been?"
"I was right here. The whole time."