Author's Loooooooong Notes: First of all, I've made my decision about sex in this story. I'm going to keep the description of lovemaking confined within the story's PG-13 rating, but still include quite a bit of description of Wendy and Peter's thoughts and emotions, as well as some rather euphemistic references to what they're doing. Given the fact that sexuality has been a force in this story throughout, writing a scene in the same style seems appropriate to me.

Thinking back to what I was reading when I was 13, I find myself rather unlimited in what I could include under this rating. But I'll still be careful, since not all 13 year olds are as curious about such things as I was. :)

Also, I'd like to briefly respond to a few reviews:

The Horse Lovers -- I'm sorry you don't like the "mushy bits," but there's a reason I listed "Romance" as one of the genres of this story. There is quite a bit of mushy stuff in the final few chapters of this story, so you may not want to read the rest if that makes you uncomfortable.

Mara Trinity Scully -- There's going to continue to be some back-and-forth on the Neverland vs. real world issue, but I have a plan, which has existed since I wrote the first chapter. I think no matter which way I go, some folks would be happy and others would not, so I'm just going to go with what makes sense to me, given the central issues of this particular story.

Wendy8 -- Your idea for writing two different versions of the climactic (ahem! no pun intended) love scene is a good one. I may very well do as you suggest; I haven't decided yet. I'll have to see how well it works for me when I sit down to actually write it all.

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That night, Wendy waited a very long time for Peter to return to the tree. It was unlike him to be gone the whole night through, and so Wendy found herself wondering if he was avoiding her because of their argument. It all seemed so unimportant now, now that she knew the answer to Peter's problems. She was quite excited to tell him what she had learned from the fairies, though a large part of her heart was weeping that she should be forgotten. She tried to ignore her sadness, for she would have all too long to indulge it, and kept a smile on her lips for Peter.

She had done what she had returned to do, after all. Was that not something to make one glad?

Wendy sat upon the look-out platform with her knees to her chest, waiting for Peter, until the first rays of dawn shone over the distant ocean. Her eyes were so very heavy by this time that Wendy reconciled herself to sleeping a short while until she could talk to Peter before returning home. The flight home, after all, would require some effort without Peter by her side, with only Tinkerbell to guide her.

And so she at last yielded to the pull of sleep, laying herself down upon the narrow pallet to rest just a brief while until Peter returned.

When Peter did return, however, he found Wendy quite deeply asleep, for her day and night's vigil at the fairy tree had tired her more than she realized. Gently taking Wendy into his arms, Peter carried her to the larger bed and settled her comfortably upon the furs. Wendy moved only to murmur his name before sinking deep into slumber once more.

Peter had spent the night high in a tree, gazing out at Neverland and thinking of all that he had heard that day. It was all so very confusing. He had many questions, and not only about what the fairies had said. Wendy's behavior had seemed to make little sense, and he longed to ask her many things, so that he might understand. Unfortunately, he could not ask about the fairies, since Wendy did not know that he had followed her.

While Wendy slept, Peter sat in one of the wood and fur chairs and watched her, thinking all the while. He decided that when she woke, he would ask her his questions quickly, before they might begin yet another row. He hoped that he would not anger her with his confusions, but he had grown impatient with being a "gentleman". He wanted to understand what had been happening to him, and he wanted to understand it now, for Peter still had much of a young lad's impatience with the world.

At length, Wendy began to stir and stretch, rubbing her eyes and pushing her hair away from her face. She saw Peter almost immediately, and leapt from her sleeping place to run toward him in his chair. She still had marks upon her face from where the blankets and furs had met beneath her cheek.

"Peter!" she cried, kneeling before his chair. "Peter, I have the answer! I know how to make you young again!"

Nervous now that he might somehow betray the fact that he knew already what the fairies had advised, and thereby anger Wendy that he had followed her once again, Peter sat very very still, his eyes shifting away from her face with guilt.

But Wendy was entirely too occupied with the urgency of her news to notice Peter's oddly quiet behavior.

"I talked with the fairies last night," she explained, "and they told me that you need only wish with your whole heart, and you shall be a boy again. But you must wait until I have left Neverland, for I fear that if you saw me after you had made your wish, then all would be lost."

Peter sat up suddenly in his chair. "You are leaving Neverland? Why?"

"Oh, Peter," Wendy smiled gently, "you must forget that we ever met, if the wish is to work. Apparently your growing up has been my fault, and you must forget that I ever kissed you, or even knew you at all, if you are to return to being a boy."

Forget Wendy? The idea still offended Peter, but he was not certain what to say without incriminating himself. Perhaps changing the subject was safest. He did, after all, have a great many other questions to ask her.

"If you are to leave Neverland, Wendy, I would like to ask you some things before you go, for I have been very confused." Admitting it pained him a bit, for Peter did not like to appear weak in any way, but it seemed necessary if he was ever to get answers to his many questions.

"Of course, Peter," Wendy replied, smiling up at him from where she still crouched before him. Peter gently moved her away, and then lowered himself to the floor, so that they sat facing each other upon the dirt.

Peter worked up his courage and asked his first question. "Why were you with Hook in the forest two nights ago?" He was not sure he wanted to hear her answer, but he was grown-up enough to realize that he had given her no chance to explain, and that was quite unfair of him.

"Oh, Peter," Wendy's shoulders relaxed a bit, releasing a tension she had not even known that she was carrying. "I had gone to speak with the mermaids to ask if they knew of a way to help you become a boy again. They spoke to me, but I could not understand them. I walked home through the forest, but when I was lost in thought, Hook grabbed me and held me against my will, with his hand over my mouth. The rest, you heard and saw."

Peter nodded slowly, as if absorbing this information, then asked, "What thoughts had you so occupied?"

Wendy thought for a moment, and then remembered the song she had sung for the mermaids. She looked down at her hands in her lap and admitted, "I had been thinking that I owed you an apology for lying to you about being a Lost Boy, when first I arrived. And I am sorry, Peter. But Tinkerbell insisted it was necessary in order for me to help you. I would never have lied to you otherwise."

Gesturing vaguely, as if batting her concerns aside, Peter said, "It is no matter. I know now why Tink did it, and I do not blame you."

Wendy leaned over to hug Peter briefly in thanks, and then smiled at him. "I am so glad we are not fighting today, Peter."

This brought to Peter's mind his behavior of two nights past, causing a subtle wince which Wendy did not see. "I am sorry that we fought so, Wendy. I fear ... I made you sleep on the pallet ... and now I am not a 'gentleman'."

Wendy laughed lightly and shook her head. "Peter, I am no perfect lady, either. We both of us lost our tempers. But one angry moment does not make you a bad person."

"Am I still a 'gentleman', then?" asked Peter uncertainly.

"Yes, Peter. In my eyes, you are."

This made Peter smile. Wendy still thought he was a "gentleman"! And though he was not entirely sure what that meant, he knew it was a good thing. That was excellent, for he had other questions not so easy to ask, and the boost to his confidence was very welcome.

"Wendy, what does 'in love' mean?"

Wendy's eyes grew very very large and her face became pink. But Peter watched her so patiently and with such trust that she felt she should do her best to explain. He would not remember this conversation tomorrow, in any case.

"Love," she began hesitantly, "well, I love my parents and my brothers, of course. Love is when someone's happiness is important to you, when you want to do things that will please them and make them smile. Love means that you like to be with that person, and they make you feel good inside."

Peter nodded slowly again. This was all so much to take in. "So that is 'in love'?"

Wendy shook her head, clasping her hands in her lap more tightly in her embarrassed nervousness. She found herself stammering rather disjointedly, "'In love' is ... you see someone ... and your heart beats faster ... and you want to be near them ... to hold them and touch them ... you want to kiss them ... and ... and ... be with them always ... no matter where you go ... or what happens ... always."

Peter frowned in confusion. "That is 'in love'?" Wendy nodded. "But ... you said that you were 'in love' with me," Peter mused, then looked at Wendy again. "Why are you leaving Neverland if you want to be with me always?"

Wendy touched Peter's hand and explained softly, trying to keep her own emotions in check, "Because it is how you become a boy again, Peter, and I know how much you want that."

"Are you leaving because you have a ... a 'husband' ... at your home?"

Wendy's eyes became very large again, and her face became an even darker pink. "Peter, no. I do not have a husband." She paused, knowing she was not being entirely honest, and then continued. "Peter, it is difficult to explain. Things are different outside Neverland. My parents have been seeking a husband for me, and I most likely will marry."

At the word "marry", Peter's eyes shot up to meet hers. "Marry?" asked Peter. "So you will share some man's bed, when you would not share mine?"

Wendy bit her lip a long moment before responding, "Peter ... you see ... I must marry. My parents have made great sacrifices to provide me with a yearly income, and Aunt Millicent has settled a dowry upon me, and ... these are things intended to attract a desirable husband. A lady simply must marry, or find herself a spinster."

"What is a 'spinster'?"

"It is a lady who has never married and never had children of her own. A lady who lives alone, with no love to warm her heart," Wendy explained quietly, secretly wondering if indeed she would be able to marry, now that she had felt these feelings for Peter, or whether she herself would become a spinster.

Peter nodded thoughtfully. "So a 'spinster' is a bad thing."

Wendy frowned lightly and corrected, "No, not a bad thing, exactly. Perhaps more of a sad thing. I would not want to be a spinster, for I do long to have dear children of my own."

"Like the Lost Boys!" Peter interjected, glad that he knew about one thing in this terribly confusing conversation.

"Well, yes," admitted Wendy gently, "except that these would be truly my children. I will be their mother. The Lost Boys had other mothers whom they had forgotten, their true mothers. I was only their make-believe mother, Peter, just as you were their make-believe father. I will be my children's true mother, not make-believe, but truly, for always."

Always. That word kept cropping up, and it made Peter feel odd in his stomach. He thought he knew what it meant, for had he not said many times that he wanted always to be a boy and have fun? But when the word applied to Wendy, it seemed so different. For Wendy to be always not with him seemed a terrible thing. Perhaps the most terrible thing ever.

Wendy squeezed Peter's hand gently and smiled, trying desperately not to cry. "Peter, I should go, so that you can become a boy once more. Tinkerbell can lead me home. Come, kiss me upon my cheek and let us say good-bye."

Peter stiffened. She seemed so pleased to get away from him. He nodded sharply, "If you wish it."

Wendy touched his cheek softly, tears in her eyes, though they had not fallen. "No, Peter. This is about what you wish. And you shall have your wish at last."

"Then I wish for you to stay!" Peter cried petulantly.

The tears in Wendy's eyes spilled over. "Peter, I can't. If I do, then you would continue to grow up. For your wish to work, I must leave."

Shaking his head impatiently, Peter said, "You once told me ... I said I wanted always to be a boy ... and you said ... you said it was my biggest pretend." Tears now were in Peter's eyes, as well, though he would have denied it. Would she leave anyway? Was there nothing he could say? Would she go and sleep in some man's bed and not be a spinster and forget all about Peter Pan? No!

Wendy said quietly, "I was wrong to say so, Peter. It is not for me to say what you should want. I know now that being a boy in Neverland is what you love most in the world."

"But it's not! You are! I'm 'in love' with you!" Peter insisted.

Wendy's face went quite quite pale and she looked for a moment as if she might faint. Peter put his hands upon her upper arms, to hold her upright. "Wendy ... Wendy, are you ill?" Was she actually sickened that he might be "in love" with her? But she had said the same to him! Why would she then look so pale and stricken?

Wendy pressed a slender hand to her forehead and tried to take deep breaths, thankful that her chest was no longer bound. Peter simply could not mean what he had said. He must be confused again about what love meant.

"Peter," Wendy began, trying to wipe her tears from her face as discreetly as possible, and failing miserably. They were simply too obvious. "Peter, I think you do not truly understand what love means."

Frowning impatiently, Peter said, "No! When I am with you, my heart beats fast and I want to touch your hair and when you kiss me I feel like I will catch fire and I feel strange in my stomach and ... and ... I feel 'feelings', so very many and ... and when you are bathing ... and ... and Wendy ... Wendy, I want to be with you always. Always." He had been clutching her hand quite tightly between both of his, almost to the point of hurting her. It was important that she believe what he was saying, for she simply couldn't leave him. If she did, this time he really would be a tragedy, just as Hook had claimed.

"Wendy," he pled, bending his head to look directly into her very blue eyes. "Wendy, my Wendy, please don't leave me again."

The young woman simply stared at him, though tears still moistened her cheeks and glistened in her eyes. Peter stroked her hair away from her face and gazed at her so very seriously.

Shaking her head as if in shock, Wendy admitted hesitantly, "I do not know what to do, Peter. You ask me to stay in Neverland, and you speak of love, but I ... what is it you want from me, Peter? Am I to leave my family and friends behind, give up any hope of marrying."

But she did not finish her sentence, for Peter interrupted. "I want for us to share the bed."

Wendy's eyes widened once more, and she blushed. She was beginning to think that would be a nearly permanent state of affairs around this mostly-grown-up Peter. She squeaked, "What?"

"I want us to share the bed," Peter repeated. "You said that a lady and a gentleman share a bed and are married, to be with each other always. That is what I want ... to be with you always, Wendy."

Wendy stared at Peter in wonder. "Are you saying ... are you saying you wish to marry me, Peter?"

Peter frowned again, "I just said so!" Why was Wendy having so much difficulty understanding what he was saying? Was he saying it wrong?

But then, slowly, a watery smile spread across Wendy's face. She hooked her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his, so that their faces were very very close to each other.

"Yes," she said softly, her breath touching Peter's skin. "Yes, Peter Pan, I will marry you."

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Author's Note: Aw, jeez, I'm such a sappy romantic! That's not the end, of course. Still a few more chapters yet to come.