It was afternoon, the sun was shining brightly. Summer in Neverland was like a tropical jungle (well, hotter than most tropical jungles). Toodles, Nibs, The Twins, Slightly, Devin, and Felix were all in the water, in their boxers, wading around or trying to drown the other boy, only until last minute letting the boy breathe a gasp of air before being dunked back again. New boys had come to Neverland a couple of nights ago while Pan had gone on his adventure to another land.
Out of the group of 4, only two had really wanted to stay behind. Their names were Jason, a 5 year old who relished the idea of doing whatever and whenever without being told what to do; and a quiet, shy boy by the name of Tock. Whether that was his real name or not, Jean wasn't sure, but it really matched his quirk of clicking his tongue whenever he had something smart to say, or he just had nothing to say and it was as good of a response as any. Tock was about 14, like some of the other boys on the island.
Jason was a little one, and he went by Jay. He said in not so many words that he liked a mockingjay, a bird that could sing the same tune of a whistle.
Jay and Tock were on their third day in Neverland and already knew a few of the ground rules of the island.
Number 1: Don't cross Pan.
Number 2: You can't escape without Pan's permission.
Number 3: Don't hurt the Queen.
Jay and Jock had not the luxury of meeting Jean until now, since Jean spent most of her time in Echo Cave, preferring the empty space and hollowed ground to the jungle. Since no one wanted to utter their darkest secrets, no one came. It was similar to Pan's thinking tree in Pixie Woods.
While Pan had joined the other boys in the water, having the equal pleasure of dunking Toodles this time around as the boy thrashed to breathe the oxygen galore, Jean sat in the sand, drawing what appeared to be a map for tonight's game. What it included was not completely known, not even to Pan. Pan loved guessing games and his dear heart knew too well, so she never gave him any details.
"What're you doin, tsk."
The clicking of that tongue at the end of the statement made Jean very aware that Tock had come towards her to inquire. She continued to draw the map with her index finger.
Without looking up, she answered him: "what does it look like I'm doing."
"Lookin' like to me like you're drawin' somethin'."
Jean rolled her eyes. 'What a twat', she thought sarcastically.
"It's a map." Jean returned calmly.
"Why you drawin' maps, tsk."
"What else would i be drawing?"
"A flower, maybe?"
Jean looked up at Tock, who wore the same raggedy clothes like the rest of the Lost Boys. His had more holes; just as well, he wore clothes that had originally been worn by Jock, the dead drowned one.
Jean gave him a second look, one out of surprise and the other out of skepticism, before returning her attention back to her map. She shifted to her knees, leaning over to get more details down before she lost her train of thought.
"Why you drawin a map?"
"Full of questions, this one." Jean muttered, shaking her head. She sat back, looking up at him. "It's for a game."
"A game, tsk. What kind of game?"
"A fun game." Jean answered patiently.
"Do i get to play?"
Jean smirked, saying, "If you're a good boy, maybe you can."
Whatever hormones this youngster had going on inside him, it began poking out through his pants. Jean ignored it; at this point, she was used to it. She was the only real human girl on the island. The boys never went to see Tinkerbell who was a somber pessimistic mess since the Blue Fairy stole her wings, and the mermaids...only nice to look at. Jean continued to draw her map, uninterrupted, as Tock took a seat across from her, his hands folded over his lap to hide his boner.
Jean inwardly smirked. It was fun making people uncomfortable.
"Do you plan a lot of these games?" Tock inquired.
"Yes."
"I thought Pan did. Tsk."
"No." Jean returned. "He plans the day ones. I do nights."
"So you all work in some kinda shifts then, tsk."
"Something like that."
"Tsk, Do you like it here?"
"Yes."
"Do you like him, tsk?"
"Who?"
"Pan. Do ya like Pan?" Tock questioned.
Jean sighed deeply, closing her eyes for want of patience. She opened her eyes and saw Tock intensely watching her. Not just her. He was looking her over from her bare pretty tanned legs, to her curvy hips, and then her bare shoulders. Jean gave him a cool look, then smirked. When Tock smirked too, Jean looked past him, then above his head.
"How's it coming along?"
Tock jumped, hearing Pan's voice but Jean smiled still. Apparently, Tock thought Jean had been giving *him* that look, but she'd been watching Pan walk up to them in his boxer shorts, his upper body wet with the ocean and gleaming from the sun. Jean tilted her head when Pan bent at an angle so they kissed briefly.
"It's coming," Jean mused. "I'd tell you the details but i know how much you like guessing games."
"That, i do." Pan agreed as he sat on the edge of the rock against which Jean leaned her back.
They seemed to ignore Tock, who was watching the two talk; there was a bit of amusement and interest in his eyes.
"Tell me bits of it," Pan said. "But nothing important."
"Well, it has to deal with a few trees...a few caves," listed Jean.
"Echo Caves?"
"No," said Jean dismissively. "Originally, yes, but i amended it."
"Any possibility of losing anyone?" asked Pan.
"Unlikely." Jean returned.
"How is this fun again?" Pan questioned.
"Loss of limb is likely," Jean offered sweetly.
"That's better, but you might want to keep working on it though."
"If you think you can do it better, then..."
Pan held his hands up as in a surrender saying, "No, no, no, you wanted to do this one." He smiled at her when Jean rolled her eyes, tilting her head mockingly.
"I'm still in the process of making it," Jean admitted. "But it'll be good. You'll see."
"I'm sure either way, I'll be pleasantly surprised," Pan remarked, noting his good faith in Jean's game planning.
He pushed himself off the rock, taking a knee beside her. Pan touched his lips against her cheek in a small, slow kiss and Jean smiled at him as he straightened.
"Where are you going?" asked Jean.
"Back in the water, babe. We're going to try and drown Felix next. I want in." Pan said as he walked backwards, and with a mischeivous wink, he hopped into the water going back to the center where the other boys were.
Jean watched after him, then she looked at Tock who was grinning at her.
"What the hell are you smiling on about?" Jean questioned.
"So you do like Pan," teased Tock.
"Of course I do. We're together." Jean retorted irritably.
"If i didn't know any better, I'd say you two were goin' around like a married couple, tsk." Tock noted loudly, rocking back and forth in his seat.
"Well, apparently, you *dont* know any better," Jean mused, "because we aren't married."
"Might as well be."
Jean gave him a look, but she couldn't help but smile as she watched Pan roar with laughter when Felix broke the surface dramatically, taking in large breaths as he knocked one of the other boys into the water; when Toodles declared Felix had damn near knocked out one of his teeth, all the boys, including Pan and Felix, doubled over in laughter.
"Do you like to swim?" asked Tock.
Jean sighed. This guy was just full of questions. and he was only fourteen. Hopefully, Jay, the five year old, wouldn't be so inquisitive. That theory was shot when the aforementioned little one (littlest of any Lost Boy currently) waddled over in small brown clothes and wearing a makeshift cape (it was a hoodie tied around his neck).
"Tock, what you doing."
"Talking to Jean."
Jay looked up at Jean, who looked at him in return. With a smile, Jay pointed at her head, and said honestly, "You purty."
"Thank you." Jean returned nicely.
"My daddy would love to fuck you." Jay stated nonchalantly.
Jean and Tock stared at Jay incredulously, taken aback by the statement...by a five year old at that.
"I'm sorry?" Jean said, still trying to get over her shock.
"My daddy says that thing to girls like you." Jay said, shrugging. "Don' kno' what means by that. Don't know what he says. Don't know. But that's what says...he does, anyway."
Jean noted that the five year old could speak fine for the most part, but the fragments made her awkwardly try to piece together his points of dialogue. That would come with time, she expected.
"Does..." Jean cleared her throat. "Does your father like girls like me?"
"Yeah."
"Like-like?"
"Yeah," said Jay, shrugging. "Don know why. He has my mom."
"How old is your mom?" Tock asked.
Jay shrugged, saying, "She just old."
Jean frowned.
"Do you know what the word 'fuck' means, sweetheart?" asked Jean quietly.
Jay shook his head.
As if obliged, Tock blurted, "It means to have sex. Like fucking a girl, or fucking your broad. Or it'd be like when dogs like each other, they sniff each other's butts and the bitch is all 'fuck me' and the dog does the thing to get it pregnant so it can breed. And when the dog is done fucking, he just poops beside her and then they're..."
"Alright, enough!" Jean snapped, smacking Tock on the shoulder.
Jay looked ready to either cry or throw up.
"I was just..." Tock began.
"Just nothing. He's fucking five years old!" Jean snapped.
She crawled over to Jay, whose face had turned a deep shade of red, and took him in her arms.
"Forget everything the idiot just said," Jean cooed. "You don't need to know what that word means...or god forbid what dogs do when they like each other."
Jay placed his head on Jean's shoulder, relaxed by her patting on his back and the softness of her voice.
"So do you and Pan fuck?" Tock asked.
Jean stared at him.
"Felix!" Jean called. "Get over here!"
Felix and Pan glanced at one another from the ocean's water. Pan nodded for him to go and Felix dutifully jogged to where Jean held Jay, and Tock looked absurdly interested in whatever Jean may have to say next.
"What happened? What's wrong?" asked Felix, glancing between the three of them. He noticed Jay, who may have been upset earlier, lying on Jean's side with his head on her shoulder.
"Tock says he wants to play too," Jean said with a forced smile.
"Does he?" Felix inquired.
"Yes." Jean said through gritted teeth. "He wants to."
"I don't..." Tock began, but Felix had him up by the arm.
"Oh come on! We don't bite!" Felix said, jabbing the guy in the side with his elbow. He practically dragged him the way to the shore while the other boys hooted and hollered for another person to play with them.
Meanwhile, Jay still appeared quite upset so Jean gently placed him beside her.
"Do you want to help me invent a game, sweetie?" Jean asked.
"A game?" Jay asked, his ears perking.
"Yes. It's for tonight and I may need some help." Jean said, smiling when he stood and waddled over to the center of the map, looking down at everything and then at her.
"I never help with games. Daddy isn't..."
"He isn't here." Jean said softly. "And neither is your mom. But we're your new family now." She held out her hand.
"So...no daddy...or..."
"We're your new family, dearest." Jean cooed, smiling at him sweetly.
Jay looked incredibly happy at that thought.
"You...my new mommy?" Jay asked.
"If you want me to be, i can be." Jean returned.
Jay beamed.
He looked at the map and scrunched his face as if in hard concentration.
"Let work this map." He said, although Jean was sure he meant 'let's get to work on this map'.
Pan was in the middle of dunking an angry, upset Tock when Felix was smiling widely. Pan held Tock down under just long enough for the bubbles to stop popping and at that moment, Felix tapped him on the shoulder.
Distracted, Pan let go of Tock who burst through the water like a cannon ball, coughing and hacking away as the other lost boys howled and start cracking up with laughter.
"What?" Pan demanded.
Felix nodded his head to the side in the direction of Jean; Pan looked to see her and the smallest lost boy discussing, in deep conversation, the game for tonight. Apparently, Jean had enlisted an apprentice.
Pan smirked when the boy was jumping up and down and then hugged Jean, who appeared awkward as her hands remained hovering in the air. After a long moment, Jean (uncomfortably) placed her arms around the boy.
"She's really becoming a Mother." Felix noted.
"That, she is," Pan said smoothly. "If she were older...and a drunk...she'd remind me of someone I once knew."
Felix gave him a curious glance, but Pan said nothing more.
What Pan didn't tell Felix is that a long time ago, he had been in love with another woman and that had brought him a son named Rumplestiltskin. Rumple's mother had become too drunk one night though and the lass had left him to deal with the little pink thing swaddled in clothes alone.
Suddenly, he didn't feel like playing anymore.
Felix inquired as to where he'd be going and Pan answered, "You know where."
"You'll tell Jean?" Pan asked.
"Of course," said Felix. "I'll let her know."
Pan stepped onto the shore, threw on his shirt and pulled his pants over his wet boxers and then walked off in a solemn daze, thinking of how he and his son might have been just fine if Jean had been Rumple's mother instead.
()()()()()()()
Jean looked everywhere for Pan after the swim. She had just come down from the treehouse when she met Felix at the bottom; he was leaned against the treehouse itself, club in hand, and a drink in the other, polishing off the last of the rum stolen from the pirates beforehand. Jean figured at some point, they'd be off to retrieve more of it later.
"He's at his Thinking Tree," Felix said smoothly. "If that's who you're looking for."
"Who else would i be looking for?" asked Jean sarcastically.
"Tinkerbell?" offered Felix.
Jean gave him a curious look.
Felix chuckled, "Pan told me a spinning tale about how you may like girls."
"Oh great," Jean muttered. "Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm not looking for a sexual escapade with Tinkerbell. At the moment, she's not the most enlightened pussy on the island, so don't mind me."
Felix said, "It's not a wonder to me how you keep Pan interested. That mouth of yours is a little off the charts."
Jean narrowed her eyes at him.
"Are you coming onto me, Felix?"
"I'm not stupid enough or drunk enough to do that," Felix mused. "Just stating the facts."
"Your facts border on passing my limits for perverted conversation, dear." Jean stated, crossing her arms.
Felix made a small bow out of apology, and Jean smiled at him.
"Why did Peter leave so early?"
"Something about you playing with Jay seemed to do something to him," Felix said.
"Is he worried I will fall for a toddler?" Jean scoffed.
"I think it's something else."
Jean tilted her head to side.
"Enlighten me."
"He never said what it was that upset him."
"Then humor me."
Felix sighed deeply, rolling his eyes up to the forest ceiling before he admitted, "I mentioned to him that you were turning out to be a real mother figure and he said you were. He never told me why it bothered him. I didn't ask why it bothered him. I honestly don't even know if it *did* bother him." He looked at Jean expectantly: "Satisfied."
"Hardly," Jean returned. "I guess I will ask him myself when i see him."
"He just asked me to tell you where he had gone so you didn't worry."
Jean sighed, "Better than saying nothing, I suppose."
Felix held out a small wooden cup, offering it to her.
"Not tonight." Jean declined politely. "I have a game in mind."
"Is it dangerous?"
"This is Neverland," Jean mused. "Every game played here is dangerous."
"Loss of limb?" Felix asked hopefully.
"You'll see." said Jean.
"Since a five year old helped, I can only imagine I will be happy either way. They're the most reckless in Neverland, you know. All that imagination ripe for the picking."
Jean chuckled, saying, "Imagination isn't an apple, Felix."
"Could be if you wanted it to be," Felix reminded. "All you have to do is think about something and you have it. Speaking of which, I like your dress. Really gives you that dangerous, mermaid look."
Jean beamed.
"Thank you for noticing." Jean said.
"Can you twirl for me?"
"Felix!"
"Sorry," Felix said, shrugging a shoulder. "The rum hit me a lot quicker than i thought it would." He gestured behind him saying, "I'm going to go back to camp."
Jean watched him walk back. A half hour might have figuratively passed if time was kept on Neverland. Jean heard a small 'swooosh'. Expectantly, she turned to see Pan leaning against a tree. He was always leaning against something, not that she was complaining; it made him look sexy, and bad ass.
"Felix tell you where i was?" Pan asked.
"Yes."
Pan approached her, looking out of sorts.
"Is something wrong?" asked Jean.
Pan continued to stare at her as if she might fly up a chimney, be out of his sights in a blink of an eye. The look he gave her was so intense that Jean stepped back a hair, uncertain as to what he might be thinking.
"Have you ever thought about leaving Neverland?" Pan asked.
Jean stopped for a second. Isnt that what Jock had asked her as Pan? Jean narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"No. Not once." Jean returned the same response as she had given Jock. "Never. Why?"
"No reason. Just wondering." Pan mused.
Jean felt even more suspicious. She then asked carefully, "Have *you* ever wanted to leave Neverland?"
"From time to time..." Pan returned and shortly after, Jean shoved him against a tree, her hand on his chest and her dagger placed against his throat, the blade slightly digging into his skin.
As this had become unprecedented, Pan looked nothing but shocked as he watched Jean's face contort in rage and suspicion.
"That's the same fucking thing Jock said when he tried to be Peter Pan," said Jean dangerously. "Who are you now, *Lost Boy*? Toodles? Tock?"
"I'm Peter Pan," Pan said immediately, staring at Jean as if she were off her rocker.
"Liar!" Jean shouted. "Peter Pan would never want to leave Neverland! You're either some boy trying to trick me or some lost pretentious fuck who wants to live no longer because anyone foolish enough to do this a second time has nothing to lose!"
"Jean..." Pan said softly, "I am Peter Pan. It's me!"
Jean stared at him.
"What's my name?" Jean questioned.
"Jean."
"My *full* name, Jackass."
Pan stared at her, then answered calmly, "Titiana Jean Everheart."
"Clever," Jean growled. "You're a clever lost boy, aren't you, 'Peter'. Maybe you can answer another question. If you can't get this one right, I will draw my blade across your pretty little neck and watch you bleed out before me."
Pan raised his eyebrows, impressed (or maybe scared); at this point, Jean was uncertain.
"Life is made up of many moments," breathed Jean, her voice ragid and wavering. "When Peter and i met in my dreams for the very first time, he promised me something very dear that no one else ever did. What did he promise?"
Pan looked at her for a moment and then he answered her: "You wanted freedom, to be away from those people who were after you for killing your parents; I said you could kill anyone on the island, and not even I would stop you."
Jean stared at him, dropping her dagger.
"You." Jean whispered.
"Me."
"You'd want to leave the island?" Jean asked quietly.
Pan shrugged while rubbing his neck where her blade had made contact a little too roughly.
"I only thought about it today," Pan admitted.
"Why would you want that?" asked Jean.
"I saw you..." Pan said sternly. "With the little one..what's his face..."
"Jason."
"Is that his name?"
"Well, he goes by 'Jay'," Jean returned more specifically.
"Right. Well, I saw you with him. How you were with him." Pan articulated with some effort.
Jean smiled kindly.
"And for a second," she said softly, "You saw your own son?"
Pan stared at her.
"Why would you say something like that?" asked Pan.
Jean shrugged, saying, "Felix said something bothered you when you saw me playing with Jay. The only other time I have ever seen you go to your tree is to think about your son. That's why you go there; because that's where it happened, right?"
Pan gave her a calm, calculating look. Jean knew him just as well as he knew her, but sometimes, he had forgotten just *how* much she knew. It would be scary if it weren't the fact Pan knew he had her undying loyalty. And that kept him from killing her, amongst many other reasons.
"What bothered you more?" asked Jean. "Seeing Jay as your son or me as..."
"His mother," Pan interrupted.
Jean blinked. She'd heard plenty stories about Rumple (although mostly bad ones where Rumple ruined every good change of Pan making a good life for himself), but she never heard stories about Rumple's mother. Come to think of it, Jean had never heard her name spoken from the lips of her King.
"What about her?" Jean asked.
Pan said nothing, more or less because when spoken aloud, the simple thought became more than just an abstract notion. It would become an affirmation of the truth and it would present more than just a simple idea. Pan inhaled deeply then sighed, shaking his head.
"It doesn't matter," said Pan. "It's nothing."
Jean's eyebrows knitted together into a curious expression, knowing full well that he was about to admit something to her greater than having abandoned his son. Pan seemed torn between telling her the truth, or just letting it go. He'd apparently chosen the easier route.
She approached him, taking his hand.
"You can tell me anything." Jean reassured.
Pan pulled away from her.
Coldly, he said, "Let it go, Jean."
He walked past her, brushing against her shoulder grumpily and then headed to the campsite where the children, including Felix, were playing. While Pan thought the conversation over, Jean felt otherwise and followed him, snatching his wrist and pulling him back.
To Jean's confirmation, the last of the rum (which included about five bottles of it) were being used for the celebration of welcoming Neverland's two new Lost Boys, Jay and Tock, who were sitting on the log before the fire with proud, happy expressions on their face. The drums were beaten, and the rum was being passed like a hookah.
From the camp, the Lost Boys watched Jean and Pan talk in low, dulcet voices. At first, they looked to have a deep conversation about something on the island but as Felix took another swig from the bottle, he noticed Pan and Jean's expressions turning to ones of anger.
This wasn't going to be quite the celebration they had expected.
"I said for you to let it go!" Pan told her for the third time.
"And I'm saying we should talk about it." Jean snapped, stepping towards him, challenging. "You tell me everything, Peter. Why not this?"
"As I said, it's unimportant."
"Not to me," Jean retorted. "Your problem is with me being around Jay. Are you jealous I'd fuck a toddler or something?"
"No," Pan responded pointedly, although he looked surprised and disgusted that she even would suggest that kind of thing. "You're making something out of nothing."
"It may mean nothing to you but it means something to me," Jean said. "You said I reminded you something about Rumple's mother. What did she do?"
"Jean..."
"What did she *do*?" Jean interrogated.
"ENOUGH ALREADY!" Pan ordered, loud enough that the camp fifty feet away had mometarily stopped the momentous occasion and the children quickly glanced in their direction.
Jean stared at him.
"You're such a girl, you know that?" Pan demanded. "I said it's nothing and you constantly come at me. What does it take for you to piss off?"
Jean crossed her arms.
"You're not angry at me because I'm bugging you," said Jean coolly. "You're angry at me because there's something you really want to say, but you're afraid to say it because I may reject you."
Pan stared at her. A normal girl would have retorted something immature or hateful and then bound off crying. A normal girl would have stormed off by now, insistent that she hated Pan and Neverland and everything in between. But Jean showed a little more maturity than that, and that was a curious thing all by itself...however, infuriating.
He glanced at the camp, which then became lively again when the boys had met Pan's malevolent glare. He slowly turned to Jean, who uncrossed her arms to appear more friendly and open. It worked a little.
"Jean." Pan sighed. "You are undoubtedly the most infuriating, interesting hottest girl I have ever met."
"Is that what you wanted to tell me?" Jean inquired blankly.
"No." Pan uttered. "Unforunately, you will never know."
"Why is that?" Jean questioned.
"Because if i tell you, it only confirms what I know."
"If you already know it," said Jean, "then what does it matter if it is said aloud?"
Pan glared at her, muttering, "You're not helping me at all."
"I'm trying to," said Jean, "but you're being too damn stubborn to help yourself. I have told you my darkest secrets, Peter. Why can you not do the same?"
Pan said nothing. Jean sighed.
"You want to live on an island with me for infinite years," Jean said calmly. "You want me to love a man in a child's body, a man who traded his son for youth but you can't tell me why I remind you of your son's mother?"
Jean touched Pan's face, her hand as gentle as a feather, but her eyes sang of pain.
"Where does that leave *me*?" Jean inquired. "What am I to you?"
Pan placed his palm over the back of hers.
"You really want to know the truth about you?" Pan questioned.
Jean nodded.
"Even if it meant leaving this place?"
Jean said, "My happy ending is you, Peter. Neverland, mermaids, pirates, the boys...none of that means anything to me if you're not in it."
Pan looked at her, then at the camp.
Jean watched him, and finally he folded.
"Seeing you with Neison..."
"Jason," Jean interrupted.
"Whatever," Pan dismissed.
Jean chuckled.
Pan said softly, "Seeing you with him made me think of Rumple. You were right about that."
"Go on," Jean encouraged gently.
"But...my secret is..." Pan sighed deeply. "There are times when I wish you had been Rumple's mother. Maybe...maybe things would have been different...actually. I'm sure they would have."
Jean looked at him curiously.
"That's very sweet, Peter. But that doesn't explain how it's your darkest secret."
Pan said quietly, "It's not."
"Then what is it?" asked Jean.
"There are moments when you talk, when you..." Pan began, but he looked uncomfortable.
"When I what?"
"When you...talk during..." Pan managed.
"What, like dirty talk?" Jean offered.
"Yes," said Pan. "There are times when you do all that, it reminds me a great deal of Rumple's mother. It sometimes makes me think that you might very well be...well..."
Jean stared at him.
"You think I'm somehow related to her?" Jean inquired, surprised.
Pan shrugged, "It was a theory...or...you may even *be* her."
Jean pondered this herself.
"Would that even be possible?" She asked.
Pan shrugged, saying, "You should see *my* lineage. And reincarnation isn't impossible. It has happened before."
Jean didn't quite understand what he meant by that, only knowing that Rumplestiltskin had somehow become the Dark One. Knowing she was with the one that created a man who could become the Dark One had been a complete turn-on, but aside from that family blood line, she didn't quite understand. Jean expected she would know eventually.
"Even if I am related to her," said Jean pointedly, "I don't see how that would bother you so much."
"If i had met you and not her, my life would have been completely different." Pan admitted more easily now that the awkward part seemed to be out of the way.
"So whats made you avoid me is the thought that you could have a happy ending with me outside of Neverland?" Jean asked.
Pan nodded.
"Hm. Well, if you wanted to go to the real world, I'd go with you." Jean offered. "As I said, you are my happiness. If all I have is you, I am happy no matter where we go to live. The important thing is that we are together."
Pan stared at her.
"What?" Jean asked.
"That's what he said before..." Pan began, but stopped.
Before he was taken by the Shadow, Jean knew. She didnt need to be told the story more than once. So Jean obviously bore some resemblance to whoever Rumple's mother was, and maybe even so, had some resemblance to Rumplestiltskin. That might be all coincidence, right...Right?
"Well," said Jean slowly. "I can certainly see why this was upsetting for you."
"Can you?" Pan remarked sarcastically.
"Sass levels are really high," Jean warned.
Pan smiled at her.
"Does it make it awkward?" Pan asked; he rubbed his shoulders. "It has made me feel awkward."
Jean giggled, saying, "Only if you let it."
She stood in front of him, smiling.
"Let's say for shits and giggles, I *am* related to her, or let's say even further, I am a reincarnation of Rumple's mother."
"Not making this any less awkward," Pan noted.
"In comparison, am I prettier?"
"Yes," Pan replied. "And less drunk too."
"Well, there's about two bottles left of Rum at the camp if you want to change that." Jean reminded, smiling at him. "And if I were the reincarnation of your son's mother, since I bear a great deal of resemblance to her, you could imagine you may very well have a second chance at happiness. Right?"
Pan sent a crooked smile her way. Jean wrapped an arm around his waist as he placed one around her shoulders, and they strolled back to the campsite. Pan watched her talk to a drunken Felix who hiccuped and fell back off the stump he'd been sitting on as Jean rolled her eyes.
Pan watched her. However, there was a flicker of the slightest light, and he could definitely see the resemblence between Rumple's mother and Jean. Maybe Jean was a descendent; it was possible. But Jean could have been a split image of her with her brown eyes, brown hair, and the way she would tempt him into a smile of his own. If she aged 20 more years, she'd definitely look like her...well, probably healthier and sexier considering she didn't drink or smoke...or sleep around with the entire village. The exception of Jean *not* being related was that she was hopelessly devoted to him and his Lost Boys; she was a healthy spunk of sunshine, and prettier than sin.
Another point being that if Jean really was Rumple's mother, that would explain why Pan had been dreaming of her and why she had been dreaming of him. Perhaps, Fate wanted to give them a second go?
When Jean handed him a wooden goblet of ale, Pan took it and quickly kicked it back, hoping it quieted his brain and assuaged his thoughts of Rumple's mother so he could focus on the lovely lass on his knee who was getting more and more giddy by the glass.
One thing, Pan knew, was for certain. If Jean truly *was* the second chance at love, Pan would make sure she never got away from him again.