A/N: Hey everyone. Sorry about how long it took me to write this. Sitting down and actually starting it took the longest if you can believe that. It's not that I don't enjoy writing or this story, it's just that life has so many things to throw that I'm still digging my way out of the pile.

Forever

Chapter Eleven

It felt much longer than it was when Wendy stood up. Peter jumped up as though a shot had gone off before relaxing at her mumble of 'bathroom'. He managed to get out a basic description of where it was ('upstairs' is all he said) before she walked off. His eyes trailed her as she trudged up the stairs. To him it looked like there was a thousand bricks hanging off her back to slow her down. He looked back to the TV before it finally clicked in his mind - that was the bridge to where Wendy lived. Without that bridge she couldn't get home. At least not the normal way.

Quickly Peter wondered if they would send helicopters to get those who were stranded on this side. It would obviously have to be for the people who had family on the other side. And it would probably be a one way type deal. If they sent a helicopter and Wendy went on it, Peter reasoned she wouldn't be able to come back. Which meant that it would be a long time before they'd get to see one another again. An emergency bridge would have to be built and who knows how long that would take. It would be too long no doubt. And then it would be years before a commercial bridge could be set in place no doubt. Years where they would be apart.

Peter shook his head furiously. That wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to just not see her for years because of some silly little bridge. He had made the mistake of letting her go home without him once and once was far too much in his opinion.

He clicked the TV back off before going up the stairs himself. He could hear water running coming from the bathroom. He pressed his ear to the door to try and see if he could hear anything else but that was it. Despite how small the upstairs rooms might seem sometimes, they were all very well built. The whole house was made out of sturdy brick and thick wood, and the upstairs (along with the downstairs kitchen and mudroom) had the benefit of a layer of plaster so they could paint over it the wood and brick. Which meant that try as he might Peter couldn't hear anything more than the water running.

But then the water turned off and he was left with nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat and breathing. Which of course he tried to minimize because he didn't want to come off as worried or anything. He'd been trying to think of all the ways to convince her to stay on this side of the bridge for when the rescue copter came (he was already assuming it would). The problem was that Peter in his infinite wisdom and cleverness had figured out that recently when he said things they had a habit of getting misunderstood by Wendy. So convincing her of the benefits of staying in this town would probably only want to make her leave (read as leave him) all that much more.

Wendy opened the door to come face to face with Peter. For her part, her face was freshly washed. Her eyes were rimmed in a subtle red tone from the crying that she'd managed to staunch the flow of. Peter's had wide, searching eyes as he looked at her. The look made her feel at least a foot shorter than she was and a whole lot smaller all around. It wasn't a cruel look, just searching. Like he was looking for an answer far greater than either of them.

Then, nearly without warning, his hands were in her hair and his lips pressed against hers. He was so sure about his movement that it took Wendy completely off guard. She backed into a beam of the doorway and Peter followed suit without missing a beat. His lips were warm and soft as they slanted against hers. Knots twisted inside of her stomach as he pressed her further back into the beam, his body radiating an undeniable and welcoming heat. Her hands quivered beside her as Peter's grip on her head and hair was used to tilt her head to the side. As she started to close her eyes she realized that one of the other boys in the house had just looked out only to quickly close their bedroom door once more. It was a stark reminder of the situation which brought a vaguely familiar embarrassment along with it. He never seemed to notice the fact that a blush which would put a strawberry to shame had started to color her face. She could feel him trailing down the side of her neck with a near frantic pace.

Wendy pushed against him. Peter looked at her with a dazed sort of confusion as she untangled herself from the cocoon he had become. He caught her hand as she started to move away, intent on keeping her as close as possible. He figured that if he kept her busy and focused on him, this time in a positive way, then she'd not even think about getting on any old smelly helicopter.

As quickly as she could, which wasn't very quick considering that Peter had somehow become a very touchy-feely octopus in their time apart, Wendy moved away from him and towards the bedroom where her school bag was. She had parents to call and a lot to figure out. Most of it didn't involve getting embarrassed in the middle of a hallway again. This time had even been worse. She could blissfully pretend that no one had seen them in the school hallway that first time. This time Wendy knew for sure that one of the lost boys had seen them. She could feel the embarrassment set in even as she thought about what they must think. What they must think of her to be exact.

Peter on the other hand couldn't care less about what anyone saw. Or at least that's what he'd like to believe. What he was more interested in was the fact that Wendy had moved towards the bedroom. Boyish green eyes weren't exactly the model for innocence as he hurried after her. After he was in, Peter closed the door and locked it behind him.

Wendy peered around the edge of the bed trying to find her bag, which looked more like a slightly oversized purse, so she could get her cell phone. But before she could straighten back up the octopus named Peter Pan had latched back onto her. Wendy's eyes widened as she felt his chest through a single layer of thin jersey-cotton. His arms were wrapped around her from behind while his hands were far from idle. Wendy caught the both of them shortly after they started to invade her clothes.

"Peter," Wendy hissed out in a quiet voice.

As though it were somehow all the answer she needed, Peter 'hmmed'. She thought she had gotten his attention so she let go of his hands and started to take a step forward. Her breath was in a quick rhythm from the sensation of what he'd started again and from the surprise of how quickly it was all going. It was really too bad that she didn't have time to catcher breath.

Wendy felt herself being pulled down onto the bed before she even had time to get his name out again. It was Peter's nimble quickness that should have been the real surprise. She was underneath him with hands intertwined above his head and lips occupied by his before she knew it. Wendy's fingers flexed around his at the pleasant sensation. She didn't even notice when one of his hands left hers until the button to her jeans were undone and his hand started to zip below the beltline.

"Peter, Peter stop," Wendy said.

A part of her wished she wasn't so good at keeping track of what needed to be done and putting it before what she wanted to be done. The same part of her which really, really liked the sensations which Peter fired up in her. It was also the same part of her mind which was highly distracted by the fact that he had already gotten rid of his shirt. Another part of her was distracted by the fact that Peter Pan was glowing with that golden hue once more.

"Why?" He asked, not even bothering to try and clear his voice first.

Wendy could feel her insides shudder at that. "Because I need to call my dad-"

"No!" Peter drew back with an angry look on his face.

"Yes I do," Wendy said with an affronted tone. "They're probably really worried. I have to let mom and dad know I'm okay."

"You're not getting on that helicopter, Wendy. I'm not going to let you."

Wendy blinked as she pushed Peter off of her. She dragged herself so that she was sitting up beside him as she stared at the outrage and fury on his face.

"What are you talking about?" She demanded to know.

"The bridge is gone. So they're going to try and get people back with their families. You are not going to go back," Peter stated passionately.

"Peter," Wendy stressed.

"No!" he practically shouted.

"My da-"

"No!"

She tried this a few more times. Each time Peter would cut her off in that most childish fashion. And each time she'd take a deep breath he seemed to take it as the end of the conversation. Which apparently meant that he could go back to kissing her. After the sixth time, Wendy finally got fed up and switched her tactics. It was a tactic that was underhanded and even as she thought about it, everything on her body went scarlet. But it had to be done.

When he was more occupied with the side of her neck she leaned into his ear. "I need…"

She paused for a moment, half expecting the 'no' to pop out of his mouth. It didn't and she was thankful for that. What did happen was that she felt him ground down against her for the first time. Wendy squeezed her eyes closed as she resisted the urge to tense up. Peter was already tense enough for the both of them apparently.

"I need," she tried again, swallowing thickly.

Same reaction from Peter. She could feel the strain in his lower body even through his jeans. Vaguely she wondered if that was even comfortable at that point. Wendy had a feeling that it wasn't. But then again, judging by the look on his face it seemed like it was...somehow.

Wendy slowly turned them over. For once, Peter wasn't putting up a fight. She felt extremely guilty at that moment but he really had given her no choice. If he was going to be a child who denied her the right to talk while at the same time being a horn dog who had other things on his mind, then she was going to use all means at her disposal. Which meant that as soon as he was laying under her this time, Wendy put her plan into motion.

She threw herself off the side of the bed. Peter sat up abruptly, not that she could see it. She was too busy hurrying under the bed like it was a bomb shelter. She had even remembered to tuck her legs underneath too. A sort of smile wormed its way onto her face as she heard Peter's reaction even if she couldn't see it.

Oh hey, there's where her backpack went.

Wendy reached out for it. It was at the edge of the bed, half peaking out through the bed skirt. When her hand finally grabbed a hold of it, Peter pulled her out. The floor was well cared for (miraculously) and she still had all her clothes on (another miracle) so it didn't hurt to get pulled back out from under the bed. The look on his face when she triumphantly held out her cell phone was almost worth it too.

"What-" Peter started out.

This time it was Wendy's turn to stop him. She got to her knees and put her hand over his mouth.

"Peter I love you. But if you try to stop me from what I want to do again, I'm going to rethink my plan of staying with you here while the bridge mess gets sorted out. Understand?"

When she removed her hand from his mouth, all the mighty Peter Pan could do was gape at her.