Peter's apartment was a pigsty.

I'm not saying that just to be rude because it seriously was. I supposed that's all I could expect from a boy living with six other guys in a two-bedroom apartment. Peter, of course, had the master suite while the twins took the smaller bedroom and everyone else camped out on the multiple couches.

Like I said, it was a mess.

"Do you have a maid?" I asked, bending down to examine the mold growing on an old piece of pizza.

"A maid?" Peter questioned, distracted. "No, of course not."

"It shows," I muttered. Peter pretended not to hear me as he knocked the pizza off of the counter with a sweep of his hand. It landed smoothly in the trashcan with an unnerving squelching noise.

We were all standing around waiting for Slightly to get out of the shower. I was edging around the kitchen, unconsciously throwing things away and wiping away stains with the sponge that magically appeared in my fingers.

"What are you doing?" Binky asked. Or…maybe it was Marmaduke. It was difficult to tell them apart.

"Who are you, our mother?" Tootles added.

I rinsed out the sponge in the sink and said, "I might as well be. The way you people are living it's like you've never even heard of a mother."

Peter and Tootles exchanged looks as Kim and Zandra pondered over a mysterious orange blobby thing that was oozing down a leg to the kitchen table. "What do you think it is?" Kim asked, poking it with a dirty spoon. "It kind of reminds me of a soggy cheetoh."

I was about to attack whatever it was with a sponge when something came streaking out of the living room to latch onto my face and knock me down onto the cheap linoleum floor. I started screaming as I thrashed violently, trying to get the assaulter off of me.

"Bad Tinkerbell! Stop! Stop!" Peter bellowed as he wrenched the little devil off of me. He held the cat by the scruff of her neck and looked straight into her eyes. "You're a bad kitty."

The cat made a low growling sound in protest.

"Wendy!" Peter cried with a determined look on his face. "Open the window."

There was a window over the sink. I hastened to open it.

"That'll teach you not to maul our guests," Peter told Tinkerbell sternly before he impressively swung his arm and slung the cat out through the window of the top floor of the apartment building. Tinkerbell yowled as she cut through the air and disappeared beneath the ledge of the open window.

"Oh my God," Kim, Zandra, and I chorused in horror.

Peter turned to look at me with a puzzled expression on his face. "Is something wrong?" he inquired as he brushed his hands together to get rid of excess cat hair.

"You just threw a cat out the window!" I exclaimed, deciding I could add animal cruelty to Peter's long list of character flaws.

Peter cocked an eyebrow. "There is a balcony." He brought me to the window to show me the narrow platform that led to the fire escape. Tinkerbell was sitting down with her back to us, licking her paw and trying to get her dignity back.

"Oh," I said, slightly disappointed.

"You're still my best girl, Tink," Peter called out to the cat. Tinkerbell made no response that she had heard. Peter sighed. "That cat's been with me forever but I swear she never respects any of my girlfriends."

I raised my eyebrows but decided not to comment.

A door creaked open and our entire group turned to face where the bathroom was. Slightly was walking out into the living room in a cloud of billowing steam smelling strongly of strawberries. Wrapped around him was a fluffy yellow bathrobe.

Slightly looked up at us, his hair twisted up in a towel. He promptly yelped and dove behind a couch. "I didn't know we had company!" he shouted, clearly outraged.

"Did you see him?" Kim whispered to Zandra. "He was kinda cute."

I closed my eyes. I hate my friends.

"Okay then," said Peter, his voice awfully high. "I think it's time to go."

"Yeah, bowling is starting to look really good right about now," I said quickly as I grabbed Peter's hand and dragged him towards the door. "Let's get out of here."

"Don't leave without me!" Slightly called as he tried to stand up and run to one of the bedroom doors. Unfortunately (and I mean extremely unfortunately), he tripped over a pillow and his robe flew up over his head.

Zandra and Kim gasped in shock…though suspiciously enough they were the only ones who didn't have the decency to look away. Once again, I hate my friends. After we all recovered, we left the apartment with Slightly still inside.

We had been at the bowling alley for a good ten minutes before Slightly had caught up with us. I could tell he was trying to keep a low profile to minimize embarrassment by the way he was crouching down behind a large potted fern to eat a hotdog. Peter, however, had taken everyone's shoe sizes and was busying himself at the counter to order us those funky bowling shoes.

I decided to crouch behind the potted fern too. "Who are we hiding from, eh?" I asked, pretending I hadn't remembered what had happened back in the apartment.

"Captain Hook," said Slightly without missing a beat as he decorated his hotdog with ketchup and mustard.

I blinked. "Wait…what?"

"Yeah, he's just over there." Slightly pointed a few lanes over to where Hook was having trouble picking up a bowling ball with one hand. His assistant, Smee, was trying to help him but all he managed to do was drop the ball on Hook's unsuspecting big toe.

"And when were you planning on telling Peter about this?" I hissed to him, edging around the pot to get a better look.

"Oh, when he came back with our shoes," Slightly replied with his mouth full of food, his still-wet, blond hair falling into his face. "Not to worry, Peter is an excellent bowler."

"I don't think his bowling skills are what I'm worrying about," I told him, starting to freak out. What if Hook saw us and started shooting at us? What if he shot Kim or Zandra? Or Peter?

Before I knew what I was doing, I raced across the floor to where the shoe ordering counter was and tugged desperately on Peter's sleeve. "Oh," he said in surprise, "did your feet get bigger in the few minutes that I've been gone? I should probably get you an eight rather than a seven-and-a-half."

"No, Peter," I whispered quickly. "Hook's here!"

Peter turned to me and raised his eyebrows. "I know," he said simply, looking at me as if I were being particularly foolish. "It's a Saturday. This is Hook's evening to bowl. You see, when I'm not looking out for my helplessly lost boys, I'm keeping tabs on Hook's schedule. I have to make sure he's not plotting against me, of course." He pulled a pair of shoes off of the counter and handed them to me. "Here, Wendy, try these on."

I stared at him. "You knew Hook would be here?"

"Well I wasn't completely certain," said Peter with a careless shrug. "After all, he just lost his chances of conquering the famed sandwich shop so I thought he might have been too depressed to come out and play today. Either that, or he could have been dead. I didn't know if he had lived when you sunk the ship."

This time I gaped at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Wendy?" Peter asked with a frown. "Do the shoes not fit?"

He knew very well that it had nothing to do with the shoes considering that I hadn't even kneeled down to put them on. "You're unbelievable, Peter. You've put all of our lives in danger. How could you not tell us that Hook would probably be here?"

"Actually, the chances of him being here wasn't probable at all…But I'll let that one slide. Anyways, I didn't put any of your lives in danger. The pirates came here to bowl and that's just what they'll do. In fact-"

"Peter Pan," a voice seethed from behind us. We spun around to face Captain Hook himself. He was holding a hotdog like it was a sword and his eyes were glued to Peter's face.

"Evening, Hook," said Peter coolly.

The pirate closed his eyes in irritation. "James. My name is James."

"Evening, then, James Hook," replied Peter, obviously relishing the annoyed look on the pirate captain's face.

"You're lucky I don't shoot you and your little girlfriend right now," Hook hissed, patting the front of his black leather trench coat as if there were a weapon hidden somewhere beneath it.

"Oh, Hookypoo," said Peter, waggling his finger sternly. "We both know you wouldn't shoot anyone in such a crowded place. I'm certain you deal with enough criticism as it is. You know, with you being a cripple and all."

Hook lunched at Peter and knocked him down, clubbing him over the head with my bowling shoes. "Say that again," Hook bellowed angrily. "I dare you!"

"Cripple!" Peter cried. "You crippled codfish!"

"Peter!" I called out in horror. Even if Hook was a jerk, it wasn't right to tease him for his lack of a hand…especially since Peter was the one who caused him to lose the pirate's hand in the first place. "Both of you, stop! STOP!" The two brawling guys paused momentarily to look at me expectantly. "Both of you should be ashamed of yourselves! You're both acting like insufferable asses. Now, I know how we can settle this."

"Nothing can redeem Peter for what he did to me years ago," Hook growled, straightening up and staring down at Peter, whom of which was still on the floor.

"And nothing can redeem Hook for his life of piracy," Peter added, mimicking Hook's irritated manner.

"Well, I suppose the two of you will just have to manage with what we've got. Let's see, we're in a bowling alley. I suggest a bowling competition. If that doesn't work, we can always resort to DDR." I crossed my arms and pretended to be brave.

"The stakes?" Peter questioned.

"I'll name the stakes," Hook cut in. The pirate turned to look at me up and down. He gave me a horrible smile before turning back to Peter and muttering something under his breath.

"Deal," said Peter quickly as he shook Hook's remaining hand.

"Wait, what?" I asked, suspicious. "What are the stakes? I couldn't hear him."

Hook purposefully grinned at me as Peter answered me for him.

"A kiss."

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A/N: Hehehe I think Wendy got more than she bargained for. Review!