It had been three years since Wendy and her boys had defeated the villainous Captain James Hook in Neverland, and even her storyteller's mind could not think of the adventures of Peter Pan without him. Wendy decided, in her own mind, to continue as if she did not know of Hook's demise and wove tales of swashbuckling pirates defending their ship and their one-handed captain from the clever and cunning boy.

Peter could not age in her mind. She would always remember him as the pretend father to the boys that her own parents were bringing up. She would remember him as a little boy that loved adventure. But, most of all, she would remember him as the boy with whom she shared her most precious possession—her hidden kiss.

Wendy saw that her mother was dearly devoted to her father, as all wives should be. Wendy could see that her mother loved her children, even those that didn't belong to her. But Wendy also saw that her mother had a lot of courage, supporting a family that was created with a man that, try as he might, could never possess the hidden kiss tucked away in the right hand corner of her mother's mouth.

It was this courage that sparked Wendy's own as she herself faced her most terrifying adventure yet: marriage.

With the gold and jewels Michael had smuggled home from Neverland, the Darling family had the opportunity to move their now expanded family to a more upscale part of London. By day Wendy was taught women's arts by her aunt and by night she was allowed to once again be a child. Wendy Moira Angela Darling was nearing seventeen. Her hair was plaited atop her head and her deep blue eyes sparkled as she brandished her sword in the family's nursery. Wendy remembered when her father had threatened to move her from the nursery, and in effect make her grow up. After their adventures in Neverland, her father had changed his mind. This pleased Wendy. She was free to tell stories to and clash swords with her new brothers as much as she pleased. Life was happy. But she was growing. It was time for her to enter into society as a lady and take a man for a husband.

The night of her coming of age ball, Wendy sat on her bed next to her cousin Slightly. Most people in proper society called him James, but at home he preferred his old nickname.

"Wendy, it won't be so bad. I'll look out for you. Any boy I pick can't go wrong." Slightly teased. Wendy frowned.

"Any boy you pick, Slightly, will be far too boisterous and obnoxious for me to stand for more than two minutes at a time." She replied.

"Well, that's perfect for a dance then, isn't it?" Slightly countered, "Plus, your father isn't expecting you to marry tonight. You are merely entering into society as a lady eligible for courtship."

"Didn't that sound eloquent?" Wendy quipped.

"That's what mother kept saying all day today. I think she's more nervous than you are."

"More nervous, and more excited probably."

"Well, Wendy-lady," Slightly said as he stood before her and gave a slight curtsy, "I will not rest till I've had your hand at the ball tonight. And I know my cousins will feel the same way." Wendy rose from the bed and bowed to him.

"Good sir, I would be happy to accept your invitation to dance." She said and then she hugged him.

"It'll save you from all the other blokes who are out for your beautiful face." Slightly whispered, "We'll all be there to save you. We promised." Wendy did not understand what he meant. She hadn't been out in society enough to understand that her glistening golden hair, her bright blue eyes, her thin waist, and her cheerful countenance were completely in style and any man out for a trophy bride would be happy to have her on his arm.

Slightly and the other lost boys had made it their duty to find a man for their Wendy-lady that would love her for her imaginative mind and allow her to become an author, no matter how unfashionable it was for a young lady to do. Wendy broke the hug and grabbed her wooden sword.

"Once more, cousin, I'd like to whip you and prove to you that your measly skill with a blade cannot compare to mine." She yelled. Slightly chuckled at her challenge and grabbed his own sword. Wendy lunged at him and he barely had time to react. She was strong and not without good technique. They practiced every night. Wood clashed on wood and dents began to form on the soft material. Slightly guessed that Wendy had much more pent up emotion than she let on. He understood that this would be the final step in putting Peter Pan behind her forever.

But, Wendy didn't see the sparkle of gold dust outside her nursery window. If she had, it is possible that the events that followed this evening might have spurred a different ending to this tale.

Wendy entered the ballroom looking disheveled and worn. She had fought with everything she had, and in the end she had won. This pleased her, but it did cause her a great deal or physical and emotional strain. She joined her mother and her aunt who were standing alone at the back of the room.

"Wendy, darling," her aunt crooned, "You're looking lovely this evening! So radiant! Why, you're glowing!"

"Yes, dear, you are. Who was your victim this evening?" Her mother asked.

"Slightly. And you'll be pleased to know that my record still stands and I have not yet been defeated." Wendy answered proudly.

"I hope you didn't hurt my son." Her aunt said.

"It's only a few bruises, auntie. He'll survive."

"Well, my dear, I am glad that you had one last chance to get that out of your system, and I am glad that you remain undefeated. Because it is likely that you shall remain undefeated for the rest of your life." Her aunt replied with a bit of malice. Wendy understood that her aunt was not trying to be spiteful. She was merely reminding her of her new place in society.

"Dear sister," John, Wendy's eldest brother said as he walked up from behind her. Wendy squealed with excitement.

"John! I'm glad that you're here! Please save me and invite me to dance. I have to show off auntie's lessons somehow." Wendy said as she hugged him. John was always the most sensible of all her brothers. He loved the stories as much as the others, but at sixteen he had left the nursery and the Darling home long ago to study at an all boys' preparatory school. John smiled and led Wendy to the dance floor. As they danced Wendy admired how confident and strong John seemed to have grown.

"Oh! Wendy, there's someone here I'd like you to meet. He was the star of the school's fencing team before he graduated two years ago. Now he's competing and studying at Cambridge. I daresay he can defeat you."

"Come now, John. You know as well as I do that I cannot be defeated." Wendy said. She meant to make a light joke but was startled as she heard a haughty voice from behind her.

"So this is the girl I came all the way to see, is it Darling? She doesn't look so tough." John's face lit up and a smirk graced his features.

"Oh Collins, I wouldn't doubt her if I were you. She is strong and quick-witted. She is intelligent beyond any other person in this room."

"Then, Miss Darling, I challenge you to a match." Collins said; his smirk widening and his eyes darkening.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Collins, but perhaps at another time. As you can see this is very much a public event and I wouldn't want to—" Collins held his sword to her throat. Wendy's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed into a glare.

"You wouldn't want to what, Miss Darling?" He teased.

"I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of all of these fine people."

"Don't worry, you won't." He said as he lunged at her. Wendy barely ducked in time to grab a sword from a nearby soldier. She swung the sword in front of her face just in time to block a hit to her shoulder. Collins began to add pressure in order to push her to the floor but she rolled out of the way.

They stood across from each other, swords drawn. Wendy's vision had narrowed only to include the opponent she was facing. A pair of eyes watched her intently. She had grown in both skill and determination. He blamed himself for that. However, watching her stand and fight this man larger than her in both size and age made her even more attractive. As the fight ended, and she stood with her sword pointed at the throat of her attacker he had never been more proud of her.

He had planned on approaching her tonight. But, with the current hysterics that were taking over the room he saw that it was impossible. He crept to the nearest window and leapt out into the night air. He did not miss the pointed glare that John sent in his direction.

Wendy was beside herself with happiness. She had stood up to a fencing champion and won. She was careful not to gloat however, because she understood that with her girl's body she could be easily be physically overcome by any boy. Tired or not. The fight had cleared the room. Those who occupied society's top ranks had already begun to speak of her as a monster. Wendy glanced at Slightly, who winked. Wendy's eyes widened as she realized what had happened. Next to her, John began to laugh. She hit him in the stomach with the hilt of her sword.

"What have you done?" She yelled, "You planned all of this! Now what am I going to go? Mother is going to have my head! I'll never be married! Did you hear them, John? Did you hear what they were saying as they left? And it's entirely your fault!" She began to punch him repeatedly. And he laughed. She stopped and looked at him incredulously, "What are you laughing at? Don't you see what you've done? I'll be an old maid for sure! What will Father say?" She dropped to her knees. When she looked up all of her brothers were around her.

"Wendy," Slightly said, "We weren't trying to make sure that no one would marry you."

"We were trying to make sure that you married the right man." Michael, the youngest, said.

"Yeah! Anybody that'll marry you after that will love your stories!" Nibs supplied. Wendy began to cry. These boys really cared for her. And she could hear John fighting with her aunt across the room.

That night, her first night in her new room, Wendy was at peace knowing that she had a family that wouldn't let her make the wrong decision. And, for some reason, it made her even braver.

AN: I don't own Peter Pan, even though it's the best faerie tale in the world. I'm not trying to make any money off of this. Just fulfilling my fangirl fantasies.

Let me know what you think!

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