It took Jane a moment to comprehend the fact that Peter was standing in front of her, in a suit, at prom.

"You came," she noted.

He grinned. "I changed my mind."

Jane punched him in the arm. "What the fuck; seriously? You make such a big fuss about how prom is for losers and now-"

"Dance with me," Peter interrupted. It was less of a request than a command.

She eyed him suspiciously. "You want to slow dance? Are you drunk?"

"No," Peter said indignantly. He reconsidered. "Well, maybe a little bit. Do want to dance with me or not?"

"Aren't you a charmer?" Jane offered him a hand and walked with him to the dance floor. Even in heels, she was a good four inches smaller than him and had to reach to put her hands on his shoulders. "So why did you decide to come?"

"Tony texted me that you were alone," Peter replied. His hands on her waist shouldn't have made her feel so uncomfortable, given that they had been there so many times before. Perhaps it was because they were both fully clothed.

"You came here just to see me?" Jane asked in surprise. "That's actually… really nice."

He snorted. "You don't have to sound so shocked. Are you still pissed at me?"

"Nah," Jane said, meaning it. "I think we could just go back to whatever we were doing before you started acting like an idiot."

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again

She looked up at him. "What?"

"I don't… I don't want to keep hooking up with you."

"Oh." Jane couldn't help but feel disappointed. "Have you decided to find a girlfriend or something?"

"No, it's not about a girl," Peter said. "Well it is. I mean, not like you think, but I guess it's kind of-"

"Spit it out, Peter."

"You know, Jane? You can be really stupid sometimes," Peter said.

Jane pulled away from him. "Excuse me?"

Peter nodded. "You heard me. Like how we've been together-ish for weeks and you refuse to talk about it, and you're blatantly ignoring all the obvious signals I am sending you, and I mean really obvious signals. Somehow, you can't connect the dots even though I keep trying to talk about us, and I couldn't take anyone else to prom, and even tonight I had to take a couple shots before meeting you because I was freaking out. Like, how can you not tell? I mean really Jane, are you going to make me say it out loud?"

"What are you going on about?" Jane demanded.

"Oh nothing important," Peter said sarcastically. "Just me having a personal crisis"

"A 'personal crisis'? About what"

"Love" Peter mumbled

"For fucks sake Peter, what?" Jane asked

"You. I'm in love with you. Kind of," Peter shot back with biting sarcasm.

"You're what?"

The annoyance disappeared from Peter's face, replaced with a sort of timidness. "I might be a tiny bit in love with you. Maybe. I don't know."

"You really must be drunk," Jane said defiantly. "Because you are not in love with me."

"Oh yeah?" Peter asked. "Why the hell not?"

Jane felt flustered. "Because, Peter. We aren't supposed to be together; it's not like that with us. You're… you know, captain of the football team and you're tall and handsome and people like you, girls like you, and I'm just… me. Small, stubborn me. Sure, we hooked up a couple times and it was brilliant but, I mean, you could have any girl you wanted. You don't really want to date me; it isn't… logical."

"I don't want any girl, Jane, I want you," Peter said.

"Really," Jane asked, folding her arms. "Why?"

"Because!" Peter said desperately. "I don't know, well, uh because you're funny and smart, like one of the smartest people I know, and you don't take any shit from anybody, which is like, really hot. And because you're nice everyone, even people you don't really have to be nice to, like my little sister and Tony's panicky boyfriend."

He paused for a moment to breathe and collect his thoughts. "Um, you stand by your beliefs and stand up for yourself and you get so intense that sometimes it scares me and… and you have pretty eyes and a pretty smile and you're just overall really pretty and I like your laugh and your brutal honesty and the way you say my name like "Pee-teh", and about two million other things. And I know I'm rambling, I planned this out to be much smoother but like, I just can't believe that somehow, the traits that come to your mind are small and stubborn? I mean, you are small and stubborn, definitely, but not, like, just that. C'mon, Janie. You're always thinking about what's sensible and rational and I am so fucking sick of it. We're seventeen, Jane, you can live a little. Take a chance. Fuck logic."

For a moment, Jane could do nothing but stare at him.

"So?" Peter prompted.

"Fine." Jane grabbed him by the tie and pulled his mouth to hers and she didn't even care that people could see them.

"So does that mean you'll date me?" Peter asked, grinning stupidly.

"Well you might love me, after all," she answered. "And who knows, maybe I love you too."

Peter's eyes lit up. He grabbed her waist and spun her around, smiling so hard he couldn't kiss her properly.

"Jesus Peter, put me down," Jane said, laughing and not really meaning it. "People are staring."

"Sorry," he said breathlessly. "Just excited. And I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look."

"Thank Lily," Jane responded, resting her head on his shoulder.

"She did a good job," Peter noted, swaying to the music.

And dancing there with Peter, Jane decided that everything was perfect in a way she never expected. In August, she would have laughed if someone told her that the Lost Boys would be her best friends, that Peter would be her date at prom, that, maybe, she might even love him. Hell, if you told her yesterday, she'd have laughed. Even now, in her head, it sounded kind of ridiculous when she thought it through, but hey, if there was ever an appropriate time to be cheesy and embarrassing, it was when you're seventeen years old at prom.

"Jane, I'm trying to be romantic and all," Peter whispered into her hair. "But I'm honestly so hopped up on adrenaline that slow dancing is a bit challenging."

"I think you might be feeling the alcohol over the adrenaline." Jane kissed him. "I'm tasting vodka, correct?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, and I used Five Hour Energy as a chaser."

"You are so stupid," Jane told him. "Never change."

"I'll try," he said.

"Okay, so how about go back to my room?" Jane proposed. "Because while that suit looks fantastic on you, it would look even better on my floor."

"You sure you don't want to stay?" Peter asked. "I mean, I know you've been looking forward to prom and everything?"

"Yeah, well tonight didn't exactly turn out like I planned, did it? I mean, this is already so far away from what I expected that we might as well just fuck it all. So, let's ditch the dance and head to my basement and this time you don't have to sneak back to your room after, or pretend it didn't happen."

"That's an awesome plan," Peter said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door.

They ran down the hallway of the main building, laughing and shouting. The school was empty anyways, so it's not like they had to worry about running into any teachers or anything. Or that would have made sense anyways.

"Running amok, are we?" came a voice from a classroom.

They stopped dead in their tracks. "Professor Hook. Didn't see you there."

"Jane Darling and… Peter Pan," Hook said. Peter's name sounded like a curse word in his mouth. "How are you tonight, Peter? Enjoying prom?"

"Yes, sir," Peter replied.

"Are you alright?" Hook asked, completely ignoring Jane. "You seem dazed. I certainly hope you've been acting responsibly. Drinking, for example, would result in an immediate expulsion, after all. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

"No, sir," Peter managed.

Hook smiled coldly, as though he had just won a great victory. Jane held her breath.

"James!"

Hook looked up, surprised, to see Mrs. Crock walking towards them. "Delia! What are you doing here?"

"Oh it was getting really warm in the gym and I thought I'd take a little stroll. What are you doing here with these students?"

Hook winced at the sound of her shoes as she walked closer. Click click click. "I was just making sure Mr. Pan and Ms. Darling were not up to anything."

"Is it entirely necessary to reprimand them for being a bit loud on prom night, James?" Mrs. Crock's smile was unwavering.

"I was only looking to confirm that these two weren't engaging in any deviant behavior," Hook said. "The boy doesn't seem to have his wits about him. And leaving in the middle of the dance seems suspicious, no?"

Mrs. Crock nodded. "Certainly in other circumstances, it might seem this way. But as Jane and Peter left the gym, I was certain I heard them talking about how Peter here was feeling faint and Jane was merely escorting him back to his dorm, like a good friend. Isn't that right, Peter?"

"Yes," Jane answered for him.

"But-" Hook started.

"Why don't you go supervise the dance, professor?"

Hooked grimaced, shot Peter a final look of hatred, and made his way towards the gymnasium.

Mrs. Crock turned to face Peter and James and raised an eyebrow.

"Thanks," Peter said, graciously.

"Why are you thanking me? I was merely upholding my duties as a teacher at this school."

"Thanks anyways," Jane repeated.

She smiled fondly. "I'm glad to see the two of you finally make it official. Took you long enough. I won a lot of money tonight."

"Wait, the teachers were betting on us…?" Jane asked.

"Certainly not, that would be inappropriate," Mrs. Crock replied. "Almost as bad as showing up at a school event drunk. Alright, hurry along, then."

They watched her retreating figure re-enter the gymnasium in a lingering state of shock.

"The fuck just happened?" Peter asked, blinking.

"Scary teacher saved your drunk ass from expulsion," Jane replied.

"Oh cool. You still wanna hook up?"

She grabbed his head and kissed him. "Fuck yeah."

He broke out into a smile. "Well c'mon, then."

They ran, hand in hand through the damp grass of the courtyard towards the dorm building, laughing all the way.

"Wait, not so fast," Jane stopped him, panting. "These shoes are killing me. So cute, but so uncomfortable."

"I have a solution," Peter announced breathlessly.

He scooped her up suddenly and Jane yelped. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Carrying you," he responded as he continued walking with Jane in his arms.

"I see that. Put me down," Jane commanded.

"Never."

Jane sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. She supposed it was a bit romantic. "Idiot."

He kissed her hair. "Yeah, I know."