A/N: My first Peter Pan fanfic, so please don't flame. Reviewing is most welcome though. Enjoy!
- Neverland, The Pirate Boat –
"You'll never catch me, you old codfish!" Peter Pan yelled, while dodging a blow from Hook's sword which came dangerously close to his shoulder.
"We'll see about that, Pan." Hook growled. He once again tried to hit Peter, but Peter blocked the sword with his dagger. Then he quickly flew up, snatched Hook's hat from his head, and placed it on his own.
"Look at me, I'm the dangerous captain Hook!" Peter said, while doing flips in the air. He laughed as Hook's face became red with anger.
"Get down here you scum, and fight like a man!" Hook screamed. Meanwhile, Peter had flown up to the crow's nest, and sat in a comfortable position, not looking like he was planning to come down anytime soon.
"Hm. Rather not. The view's rather nice up here, y'know." Peter answered. It sounded very cheerful, even though that was not how Peter felt. Defeating Hook wasn't as much fun anymore as it used to be.
The fight went on for a while, and ended with the usual and very dramatic yell, "I'll get you, Pan, even if it's the last thing I'll ever do!" from Hook.
- Neverland, Hangman's Tree –
Peter was feeling weird. He'd been feeling this way ever since the Lost Boys went to grow up with Wendy. He just felt empty. Everything just wasn't as much fun anymore as it used to be. Without the Lost Boys, there were a lot less games left he could play. Even fighting (and beating, obviously) Hook wasn't as much fun anymore. Nothing was. And on top of all, he missed Wendy. The first few days after she left, he had felt a bit sad, obviously. Almost all of his friends had left him. But then the sadness had turned into something else. Something worse. Into that horrible, empty feeling.
'Maybe I should go visit them.' He thought. 'Wendy might be telling stories. That would cheer me up.'
-Britain, London –
Wendy was sitting by the open window of the Nursery. She'd had a nice evening. First, she had told the boys a story. About Peter Pan, of course. Then they had played a few games. When it was time to go to bed, she'd tucked the boys in. And now she was sitting by the window, looking at the sky. Especially the second star to the right, of course. Because that's where Peter was. Before Wendy had met Peter, she had told stories about other people as well, not just about Peter. But she knew that Peter liked the stories about himself best. So she thought that maybe, just maybe, if she kept telling only his favorite stories, Peter would come to listen to them again. She knew it was silly, how on Earth (or in Neverland, for that matter) would Peter ever know what kind of story she was telling? But it gave her hope, hope that he would come to visit, or at least listen from outside the window. Because story-telling just wasn't the same without Peter listening. And on top of all, she missed him.