WRITERS NOTES:

Hello amazing peoples :D As promised a new chapter for your guys just in time for the Easter weekend (In you live in a country with a normal time-zone, sorry aussies! :P). Anyway, I have potentially kinda sorta decided to split each chapter (update thing) into alternating Peter/Wendy. Purely because (and you'll see this when you read this chapter) that I have A LOT of internal monologue stuff happening for both characters and it kinda gets a bit much if you constantly have to keep switching characters. Tell me what you guys think: D OH AND THANK YOU TO MY REVIEWERS :D LOVE YOU GUYS :3

Again. I own nothing of this awesome story, I just write teenage drabble :D

PS. Things are going to start picking up and bit and the story will move faster in future chapters… I felt I just needed to give you guys a bit more of where I'm going with the characters so you guys don't have internal brain combustions :D (I'm so considerate )

Wendy

Neverland. Neverland was real! The place of her fantasies, the place where she had carved out the stories the barraged the inside of her head, the backdrop to her own artistic imagination, a place that couldn't possibly exist. It just couldn't. It would be too perfect.

"Neverland," she swallowed "exists?" Her feigned control was crumbling around her already fragile exterior. Without doubt she needed Neverland to exist, without it, she would never have been able to cope. What with her parents and her overly compulsive aunt, she would not be able to disillusion herself from the unpleasant and unbearable life that they were so intent that she begin to live, had it not been for Neverland. Her stories were her way of escaping reality. Escaping the to the world that she longed to be a part of. A place, she thought, she never could.

"Yes." he whispered, dropping his eyes to the carpet. It was almost as if he had already predicted her response, as if he thought that she wouldn't believe him. Would think that he was insane. As if he had already began to mentally prepare for her rejection, for her to say no and deny the very possibility at the existence of such a place. To one not in the know, Neverland would seem to be a place of fairytales, magical and mystical wonder that most would never truly be able to comprehend. Neverland was not a place for Grownups. Even the young at heart, who do tend to fare better than ordinary grown ups don't belong. It is a place for the young. It is a place where forever and ever can truly mean forever and ever.

He turned and began to make his way back to the window. Where is he going? How long had she been silent for? "Peter!" She called, "Why are you leaving?" she didn't even both to hide the plea in her voice. She didn't want him to leave, she couldn't explain it but she felt that right now, at this moment, she couldn't be away from Peter. It sounded silly, even to her, but Peter had only been in her room for 5 minutes and she felt that he had been there for an eternity! He was like a breath of fresh air after the rain. Wendy loved the rain, but there was always that moment, right after the rain had ended, where the world was still and silent. It only lasted for a few seconds but the memory of the moment, the soothing-ness of the silence was always enough for her to escape to an alternate reality where her father and aunt respected her, where she didn't have to sneak out with her mother into the dark garden late at night to be able to talk about all the burdens and worries she carried. She wasn't ready to grow up. She wasn't ready to leave her school and her brothers and be married to a wealthy man who married her for her beauty.

"You-" he trailed off, "You don't believe me, I guess I understand I just thought that you'd be different" He swallowed and continued, "I mean, I wouldn't believe a 17 year old stranger who causally flew into my bedroom window looking aimlessly for his shadow who is so freaking stubborn that-" He stopped abruptly, eyes wide, as if he had suddenly realized what he had been saying and was desperately trying to revert the conversation in a completely different direction.

"Your what?" Wendy said aghast.

"Did I say shadow? I meant to say swallow, I have a pet swallow you see and she went missing this morning and-" he trailed off, realizing the lameness of his story. He closed his eyes as if waiting for an onslaught from Wendy regarding whether or not he was actually an escapee from a mental institution.

"Your shadow is missing?" said Wendy, completely ignoring his previous statement for both of their benefits. "You mean that you are standing in the dark and that you don't have a shadow because there is no light on you, obviously." Oh god! She had already started using her Aunts foul way of manipulation. She gritted her teeth.

He sighed finally resigning himself to the fact that he will have to tell the truth. "No, I mean that my shadow, who is a complete and utter douche for the record, has decided to ditch me and come here." He was trying to act like this wasn't the most utterly mortifying statement he had ever had to make in his life, and failing miserably.

Wendy blinked. "Ditch you and come here? Why would he come here? What could he possibly want here?"

"Your stories."

"My… You listened to my stories?" He listened to her stories. Her stories, the ones she wrote about him and their adventures in Neverland? Oh how wonderful, how amazing how delightf- HE LISTENED TO HER STORIES? How could he not have mentioned this sooner? Her stories about Neverland were private. At least the ones containing even the slightest mention of Peter were private. Not even her brothers, who were asleep in the room downstairs now that her aunt had insisted that she be given her privacy, the only good thing to come out of her aunt rather irritating interference in her upbringing. But her stories about Peter were never supposed to be heard by anyone. Even her old teddy and Nana weren't privy to those ones.

"Only the ones about Pirates and Indians!" Peter exclaimed. Clearly he could see thorough her transparent layer of coolness into the ever raging hormonal war behind her gentle eyes. "They were my favorite, behind Cinderalla of course-" he blushed. It was the second time in 2 minutes that he had done so. Wendy almost began to think that she made him nervous! How absurd. Even the thought that she could make a boy such as Peter nervous was laughable.

"Did you umm… hear any other's? Err… specifically about Neverland and the umm… warm springs at the base of Mt. Never?" she asked as smoothly and composed as she could muster with her heart beating at the rather of a humming birds wings.

He blushed.

Shit.

He had heard. He had sat on her windowsill and listened whilst she had described a rather enjoyable trip to a natural hot tub where there was no one around with gazing eyes. She couldn't believe it. How could he have heard! Did he stay for the whole thing or did he leave when the story began to get intense.

"Oh." It was the only sound her brain could think to come up with. She had too many thoughts racing through her head, too many emotions rising and falling for her mouth to be able to produce anything more than 'oh.'

"I didn't mean to upset you but, like I said, I've been coming back almost every night since I heard your first story. I just couldn't help myself. I tried not to listen when you began talking about the water temperature, but I couldn't help it you were just so descriptive and-"

"Stop!" Wendy said, her mouth very dry and her eyes wide.

"If it helps, I haven't been able to go back to the springs since, or up Mt. Never as a matter of fact. The way you used that imagery was-"

"It doesn't!" She cut him off.

His face fell and she instantly regretted her bluntness… She sighed and said, "Your shadow, what does it look like?"

He face instantly came to life with delighted eyes and that ever-present sly smile returned to his lips as he began his description. "Like me, obviously" he stated, purposefully using her own phrase against her. She couldn't help but smile at his joke. "But seriously, he wont be easy to find. He's a massive trouble maker and stubborn as a mule."

"Like you, obviously," she retorted. He laughed in that way she had always imagined, light but full of life and energy.

"Is that right?" he was still laughing.

"I'm not the one who said it!" She was laughing now too. Was she, flirting? Was she, Wendy Moira Angela Darling, actually flirting with a boy who was both gorgeous and funny without babbling or saying anything stupid? Was she really making him be the one who was babbling and becoming flustered when he thought the wrong thing or mistakenly let something slip?

Still smiling she said, "Lets find this douche bag."

They searched the room for hours. Peter had had to hide under her bed when her father had come in to bade her goodnight and sweet dreams, she had no intention of sleeping however, not when there was a rogue shadow belonging to a guy sneaking around her room. They kept looking until a blinding flash of white light forced its way through the window, which her father had closed, and disappeared into her old role top desk. Intrigued, she had made her way over and began to open the top drawer when a lean dark shape burst from the draw making her jump in fright and slam the draw shut, too late. The shadow bounded this way and that, running up the walls and lying on the ceiling, slipping underneath their feet and hiding in the dark corners of her room. After 5 minutes of silent struggle they decided that this wasn't going to work.

"We are going to need a plan," said Peter.

"I agree." she stated almost immediately, "This can't go on. I'm already out of breath and that thing seems to be having the time of his life."

"How about we corner him on the count of three?"

"Ok but which side should I attack on?"

"I don't know… wing it." He began to make his way back towards his shadow.

"Wing it- what? Peter we are going to need a foolproof plan. We can't just run at it and hope for the best!" She tried to explain.

"See that's where I've never agreed with your stories." He said. " You always find some way of the characters knowing exactly what is going to happen to them next, like they have a seen a step by step guide as to how their day will go. But that's never how real life happens. Real life is unpredictable. Sometimes you just need to… how did you put it? 'Run at it and hope for the best', I mean… that's how all the best adventures start don't they?"

If she was having doubts about her feelings for Peter they were rapidly starting to slip effortlessly away.

"Fine. On the count of three! One… Two… Three!"