Chapter Ten: Caught In the Act

"Wendy!"

Wendy fell, splashing over the mermaid's outstretched hand. Coughing buckets of seawater, she looked to the beach and was mortified.

Peter landed, hands on hips. He was not pleased. Both midnight eyes were blacker than usual. His mouth, normally loose with laughter, was held in a tight grimace. Neither of the boy's pointed ears cocked at the sounds of the mermaids cooing, "Peter! Hello Peter!"

Wendy thought his glare insufferable. Nervously wringing her dripping hair, Wendy shivered in the ocean, broken for words.

Less reserved, the mermaids bubbled with adulation.

"Hello, hello, hello Peter!" The jellyfish mermaid waved a pink tentacle playfully, "Over here! Here I am!"

"Yooou hooooo!"

"Come swim with us, Peter!"

"Yes, do!"

"Peter!" The blonde mermaid whined coquettishly, "that ugly girl pulled my hair!"

For once, Wendy wished Peter would listen to the mermaids. If only he would ignore her, enrapture himself in the mermaids' praises, and let Wendy slip away.

But Peter was unaltered, not even blinking at the mermaids' affections. His eyes never left Wendy.

Then, Peter moved. He pointed a finger. "Wendy. Come here."

A cannonball dropped in Wendy's stomach. Behind her the mermaids snickered. Creeping silently, the redhead sneered, "Dogfish!" as she clamped hold of Wendy's ankle. Embarrassed and insulted, Wendy could not decide who she detested more.

Peter's finger straightened. "Wendy."

"Oh sweet, brave, wonderful Peter Pan."

Wendy shut her eyes in disgust as the redhead spoke, voice dripping like poisoned honey, "Wonderful Peter Pan. There isn't a need to worry about this girl. We were just playing a little game."

Wendy winced as the mermaid tugged hard on her dark-golden curls. Peter's eyes narrowed slightly.

Smiling her perfect smile, the mermaid pressed her cheek against Wendy's. "So please, wouldn't you fly off and have one of your wonderful adventures?" The mermaid's fingers squeezed harder around Wendy's ankle. "Leave this little girl with us. We shall take good care of her. So go, Peter. Go have an exciting adventure so you can come back and tell us all about it. We do so adore listening to your triumphs."

Peter did not grin. Eyes flickering over the sea, he answered, "I would, but Hook is watching us over the horizon."

"Hook?!"

"Hook!"

"Swim away!"

"Hook!"

"Remember," the redhead hissed in Wendy's ear before diving to safety, "A broken, ugly troy. Ta ta Dearie!"

Wendy turned—into a face full of water—and searched the open ocean. There, beyond the scattering mermaids was a ship. It was incredulous that she had not noticed it before. The ocean around the black brig was turbulent and shadowy. The rays of the rising sun dodged powerful haul, and seemed to shine less bright. The magnificent sails beckoned sinisterly in the wind. Dark enough to disappear in to the night sky and edged as a crouching tiger, the brig glared at the girl. And although bodies were too far away to be seen, one could not dismiss the feeling of being watched. Wendy shuddered, but not from the cold.

"Wendy. Come here."

Had the waters been deeper, Wendy's heart would have sunk. No longer in immediate danger, the young English lady was suddenly cognizant of her drenched dress and dripping hair. Terribly self-conscious, Wendy looked away, praying Peter would grow frustrated and leave.

Peter's frustration did grow, indeed. But he did not leave.

"Wendy."

His voice was near boiling. Clutching her elbows underwater, Wendy closed her eyes. Please, please, please, fly away.

"Wendy! Now!"

Wendy opened her eyes. Slowly, she rose. And slowly, she walked out of the ocean.

With every step Wendy's cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red. Mortified, she hugged her shoulders, but it provided little distraction to the way her nightgown sucked tightly against her wet skin.

Wendy didn't know she'd reached peter until she saw his feet. Head down and eyes averted, she stood dumbly before him. The silence was unbearable. Cheeks stinging, Wendy chanced a look. Peter's face was stony, but his eyebrows were angled oddly. Following his gaze, Wendy looked down at the slit in her nightgown, halfway up her thigh.

"Oh dear." Fumbling with the wet fabric, Wendy turned. Suddenly realizing her dress was also plastered against her back, the girl turned again, almost as quickly. "Oh…."she breathed, miserably. Disgraced, she stared at Peter's feet.

The silence was even longer, but Wendy did not dare lift her gaze. Once or twice, Peter reached out. But his hands were unsteadily as if Wendy were a bomb waiting to spontaneously combust. Unsure where to touch the girl, the boy simply paced around her instead. As Peter's shadow crossed her face, Wendy bit her lip, fighting off tears.

Finally Peter ended silence, "You left."

Wendy forgot to breathe again.

"I told you," Peter said, voice stern, "Never to go looking for that merman again."

"I…I wasn't looking for the m—"

"Then why did you sneak away? Without me?"

For a moment, Wendy's heart strings twinged. Peter was certainly mad, but something else had escaped in his last comment. Betrayal? Hurt? Softening her expression, Wendy looked up at Peter. He was closer than she had expected. His black eyes probed hers, digging into the blue reflection. Wendy was immediately uncomfortable, but could not tear her gaze away.

She opened her mouth, on the verge of apologizing, when Peter beat her to it, "At least the mermaids listen I speak. You shou—"

Hearing enough, Wendy twisted the ends of her ripped dress and marched away. Residual bits of anger flaring, the girl did not know where she would go. She only knew that go she must.

"Hey!"

Peter's toes scarcely touched the ground as Wendy veered from the blocked path. Only momentarily flustered, Peter bounded into the air and cut the girl off again. This time prepared, he caught her when she switched directions. "Hold it right there!"

Wendy fought him, trying to double back.

"Hold it! Listen to m—"

"Ask the mermaids to listen!" Wendy said, voice trembling, "Ask them if the merman is real! Ask them if they tried to drown me! I'm sure they'll listen and agree with everything you say!"

"Wendy! Stop!"

The sharpness in Peter's voice was definitive. Scared, exhausted, hungry, cold and on the verge of tears, Wendy did stop. But her mind was exploding. The merman was real! He had been kind to her. He had cared about her. He had risked his life to keep her safe. Why wouldn't Peter believe her? Had she imagined it? No she had not. But why, oh why wouldn't Peter believe her?!

Peter's mind raced as well. Fiery hair on end and ears smoking, the boy held tight to Wendy's wrist, for fear she would suddenly leave again. Wendy! She was such a strange, different girl!

Scowling Peter observed Wendy. Anger spiking, he took her chin and turned it away from the sea. Gradually though, his grip relaxed. Wendy's beautiful countenance was overcast. Peter inched closer; cleverly detecting tear stains running form her downcast eyes. Proximal as he was, the boy felt that she was shivering.

Peter straightened "For once and for all," he declared, "the merman is not real."

Wendy did not speak. Peter waited for her to agree. When she did not, he frowned, but for some reason, his heart was sighing. His dark eyes traveled over her shivering body as the sun dressed his Wendy in yellow-gold. Peter never would have admitted it, but he thought it suited her.

Selfishly, he squeezed her hand in his, resolved that she would not get away this time.

"Come on," Peter said, leading Wendy by the hand, "Hook is probably watching."

Hook was watching. And smiling.

"Mr. Smee," said the captain, lowering his spyglass, "New plan. Fetch me the Shark. And the merman."