Author's Note: Hello, hello, to my dear fans of this story! I am SO SORRY for the delay in updating this. I have been working that other fic that I told you about and I have also been very busy with going on vacation and just general summer busyness. And I thought summer was only for relaxing! Anyway, I hope you can forgive for not updating sooner and so here is chapter 5 in which you will finally get to see what Peter's lair looks like! I hope you like the changes I made and please review!

The lyrics belong to Carolyn Leigh, Betty Comden and Adolph Green.

Chapter 5

Neverland

The first thing Wendy noticed about her teacher's home was that much of it was covered in flowers. There were blooming vases of flowers everywhere! In both large and small ones and there many flowers that she recognized and many that she didn't. Another thing that she noticed was that it was lit by hundreds of candles. There were candles everywhere! Their bright glow was stark (and very welcome) change to the darkness that she had had to endure during the trek to get to this mysterious place called Neverland.

She gazed in awe at it all as her teacher slowed the gondola up to the small dock. Then he stepped out onto the dock, turned to her and held out his hand. Wendy took it eagerly and after he had helped her out of the gondola, he led her onto studier ground.

"What we just rode through is made by all of the drainage water throughout the opera," he explained. "My home is where the water is the most shallow and it reveals the original stone floor. It may not look very large from where we are right now but it is really very deep." Then, to Wendy's surprise, he jerked her closer to him and whispered, "Open up your mind and let your fantasies unwind." Confused by his words, Wendy barely noticed as he pulled her up onto the higher ground of his home. It was only when he had flung off his cloak with an elaborate twirl that she snapped back to reality only to hear him say, "Would you please excuse me for a moment?"

She nodded mutely, knowing that she didn't really have much choice.

With her nod, the phantom retreated into the farther corners of his home and Wendy was left to stand stupidly where he had left her.

While he was gone, Wendy began to study the strange place that she knew that few had ever laid on eyes on, much less made the dark journey to get here.

The lair of the phantom of the opera seemed to consist of one large open room, created by the stone floor of the cavern that she found herself in. She saw that towards the back wall, a series of platforms had been constructed at varying levels and were connected by rope ladders. These, Wendy assumed allowed for more space for other living areas than the large main room could provide.

The reason for this, she soon realized was that it was covered in hundreds of candles and flowers. There were flowers everywhere! More flowers than Wendy had ever seen in one place and there were many that she did not even recognize. Taking a cautious step forward, she began to weave her way through the senseless maze of the blooming vegetation with her eyes nearly popping out of her head. Occasionally, she gave a soft cry of surprise when she found that her teacher had placed various pieces of furniture throughout the endless garden. She found a desk covered with papers and a thick leather notebook, a table and chairs and in another area, an intricately constructed model of the opera's stage, complete with chandelier and curtains. There were even little wooden figurines of each of the actors, including herself, Tiger Lily and Bella. All had painted with the utmost attention to real life and as such, each of them looked incredibility lifelike.

But the detailed figurine of herself was not what caught Wendy's eye, it was a music box that was sitting beside the model of the stage.

It was made of thick wood and on top was carved two more figurines: a boy and a girl, it seemed but the boy had his back to her. Wondering what he looked like as well as wanting to examine it more, Wendy slowly reached her hand forward when….

"Don't!"

The sharp command cut through the silence of the room like a knife and subsequently caused Wendy to leap out of her skin. She yelled out in surprise and pain as a hand smacked her own away from the music box. Clutching her throbbing hand, Wendy looked up to see the phantom glaring even though he was still wearing his white mask.

"Don't touch it!" he yelled at her in a voice that seemed to be both commanding and pleading at once. "It's mine! You mustn't touch it! Ever!"

"I—I'm sorry," said Wendy, voice quivering as he continued to glare at her. "It—it was just that I couldn't see part of it and it looked so beautiful."

"Well, maybe that's because you weren't supposed to see part of it!" the phantom snapped. "Now, come on! You have to sew on my shadow!" With that, he turned on his heel and marched away and Wendy followed timidly behind.

He led her to an area that was on the other side of where she had been exploring. It was a small round place covered in plush green carpeting that looked a lot like grass. What appeared to have been cut into the wall in front of them was an alcove that could be reached by a rope ladder. Although there was a candle glowing inside of it, Wendy couldn't tell what else was inside. What she did see was that a little to the right of the alcove was a twisted piece of wood that looked like an old, gnarled tree and attached to one of the branches, was among all things, a swing.

Before she could ask her strange companion about its presence, he sat down on the ground where he had trapped his shadow by pinning it down with a small basket that was filled with sewing equipment: rolls of different colored thread, needles, thimbles and a large ball with pins sticking out of it which made it look like a small porcupine.

"Although it may seem hard to believe, Wendy but even someone like me who seems to move throughout the theater like a well, phantom, I do on occasion, tear my clothes," he explained, noticing Wendy staring at the basket.

"Can your shadow on as well?" she asked rather hesitantly as she feared another outburst.

"No, because when I've lost my shadow before, it usually just molds right back to me."

"You've lost your shadow before?! Outside of our lessons?!"

"Yes, I have. Like me, it can be rather mischievous itself at times."

Wendy laughed at that as she leaned over and selected a needle, thimble and black thread to match the shadow out of the basket. "Well, then, I shall be sure to sew on nice and tight so it doesn't escape again!" she promised.

"I would appreciate that very much."

When she was ready to begin, she warned him. "This may hurt a little."

"I shan't cry!" he declared, though he did wince slightly when she stuck the needle into his foot to make the first stitch.

While she worked, a question that she had not asked her teacher yet, occurred to her and she wondered how she could have forgotten to ask it as it was the most logical one of all.

"Do you, er have a name?" she asked, feeling extremely stupid.

"I do," he replied, "although I am rather fond of being known only as the 'phantom of the opera'."

"Will you tell it to me?"

"Yes, but only when I can introduce myself properly."

Wendy nodded as she made the last few stitches and then tied the remained thread in a secure knot. "There!" she exclaimed proudly when she had finished. "I think that will hold it!"

He got slowly to his feet and once Wendy had risen as well, he promptly bowed to her and said, "My name is Peter Pan."

"Is that all?" Wendy asked.

"Yes," he replied as he straightened up.

"It's a very short name."

"I suppose so."

"Yet, somehow it suits you," she added with a giggle. "I've waited a long time to meet you and talk to you when you're not confined to teaching me through your shadow. It's wonderful to meet you." She added sincerely.

Here, he raised a hand to his lips and said, "It is equally wonderful to finally meet and talk to you as well, my dear lady." He kissed her hand as he spoke causing Wendy to giggle girlishly again.

When he lowered her hand, he immediately turned and began leaping about, testing his shadow. "It seems to be cooperating well enough," he commented as he moved about. "Oh, look, Wendy!" he cried suddenly as the shadow appeared on the wall in front of him. "My shadow! My very own shadow! Oh, the cleverness of me!"

"Of course, I did nothing," said Wendy, rolling her eyes. "You're conceited!"

"Conceited?" Peter repeated. "Not me! It's just that I am what I am…and I'm me!"

"Well, since I am apparently of no use to you now, I shall just leave," Wendy declared. She was only acting of course and had absolutely no intention of leaving this strange place, but her theatrics were lost on Peter, who didn't even realize that his tutelage was making itself known now in his pupil.

With her 'decision' to leave, Wendy turned and sauntered away only to be grabbed a moment later by a terrified Peter who cried, "Wendy, wait! Please, don't go, I have so much to show you! I'm sorry for being so rude, but you see when I get so pleased with myself, I tend to become very conceited. You did an excellent job sewing my shadow back on! Please, don't leave yet Please!"

He stared so imploringly at her that she couldn't help but laugh at how much he had believed her acting. "Oh, Peter, I was only playing with you! Leaving is the last thing I would do right now!" she assured him. "My, your teaching must have be very good if it can fool even you!"

At her words, Peter relaxed and nodded in agreement. "Why, of course, Wendy, no one could teach you as well as me!" Then as they walked back to the little clearing, he added, "I'm very glad you decided not to leave."

When they arrived back at their original spot, Peter seated himself on the swing and began to pump his legs a little so he only rose a few inches off of the ground. Wendy seated herself on the ground to watch him. It was then that she was fully able to take in his appearance.

He had replaced his black ensemble and cloak for a pair of light brown pants, moccasins and a simple white shirt which matched the white mask that covered part of his face. Peering out of that mask was a pair of the clearest sky blue eyes that Wendy had ever seen. They reminded her of summertime and youthfulness and strangely when he was wearing these new and more casual clothes, Peter looked younger than he actually was. His hair, which was dirty blonde and severely tousled, added to this look.

The only sound that broke the contented silence was the creaking of the swing as Peter swung back and forth. Finally, wanting to start some sort of conversation with her dear yet strange friend, Wendy asked, "Peter, I'll understand if you don't want to answer this question, but what song does your music box play?"

His feet swished against the carpet as he dragged them across it in order to slow down his swing. When he stopped, he replied, "It plays a lullaby. I like to think of it my lullaby because I don't think it has ever been written down."

"May I hear it?" Wendy asked hesitantly.

In reply, Peter sighed heavily and began to rock back and forth on the swing as his eyes slowly began to cloud over with memory. Wendy waited patiently, wondering if she had upset him at all when he began to sing in a soft yet clear voice:

Once upon a time and long ago,

I heard someone singing,

soft and low.

Now when day is done

and night is near,

I recall this song, I used to hear.

My child, my very own,

don't be afraid

you're not alone,

sleep until the dawn

for all is well.

Long ago this song

was sung to me,

now it's just a distant melody.

Somewhere from the past,

I used to know

once upon a time

and long ago.

His voice would have certainly never allowed him into an opera but Wendy didn't care, It was such a sweet and simple lullaby that her heart went out to him. To her, the song spoke of loneliness and of happy times long forgotten and she wondered what had made him have his music box play such a song. There was definitely much more to Peter, the phantom than she knew about but she didn't think it would be at all appropriate to ask him about it now.

"Peter," Wendy breathed, when he blinked rapidly, signaling that he was returning to the present. "That was absolutely beautiful."

Peter smiled sadly. "Thank you, Wendy. I think that my mother used to sing me that song before I fell asleep but I can't really know for sure because I—I don't really remember her."

Wendy smiled. "It sounds like just the kind of song a mother would sing to her child." She paused to remember her own mother who had died when she was so young. She thought so deeply of her that she felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes but thankfully, Peter interrupted her from reminiscing anymore when he asked, softly. "Wendy, will you tell me a story?"

She hastily wiped at her eyes and replied. "Nothing would make me happier, Peter."

Author's Note: Well, what do you think? Sorry for the slight cliffy after such a long delay! The lullaby that Peter sings is actually from the Peter Pan musical and the song is called, "Distant Melody". I thought it would be appropriate to include that song from that musical considering that this is a crossover with another musical.

Oh, you may have noticed that I took out the bride part because even in the movie I thought that part was so weird and creepy and especially for someone like Peter.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and please review!