((A/N: Back on track. Hope it's worth the wait. As always any feedback is appreciated as it helps me focus on what you guys are responding to. Please do keep it coming.
Author Out.))

CHAPTER 21

"I'm Wendy by the way… Sorry, I didn't catch your name?" She said suggestively. It wasn't exactly subtle, but it was a given at these events that at some point in the conversation one would investigate the origins of their partner: their parentage; their prospects; their reputation. Wendy didn't much like the way these affairs were carried out but then she was an anomaly in this dance hall. After all no-one else here would look twice at the eccentric boy who had appeared at her window with no parentage or job prospects to speak of. In these cases it was always the man who presented himself first, so her second name didn't hold much importance yet.

"I'm Vincent… Vincent Glover." Wendy remembered something one of the girls in the green grocer's had mentioned.

"Glover as in… the tailor?" Wendy didn't know much about the man, but his shop certainly seemed to have status.

"You found me out." He smiled. "Yes, I shamefully admit, my being here was covered by the profits of everyone else's preparation." He said with a look of guilt on his face.

"I didn't realise the son of such a… distinguished business owner would need to attend an event like this…" She decided to try her hand at flattery.

"And what of you?" He smiled. "I heard a peculiar story recently, about a fair lady 'Wendy' who was being pursued by a fine young Lord."

"He's not a lord-" Wendy said without thinking. "Or, he could be, I'm not sure."

"Ah, so it is you." He raised a teasing eyebrow. "So what need does someone with such an outstanding suitor have to be here?"

Wendy opened her mouth, but had no answer. "It's… complicated."

"Somebody said that he was to escort you, but you seem to be alone. Where is he?"

Wendy had to be honest. "I don't know…"

…

Peter had been pacing up and down a road half way between the dance hall and the house. He was desperately hoping to see Slightly outdoors by some miracle. At least he would have had another person to turn to then. He had been slowly driving himself insane with the mounting pressure. He'd come to a decision to leave the house but had become nervous again before he could reach his destination. Just as he was about to change course for the third time, something caught his eye. It had been subtle and Peter kept his eyes trained on the road, but he would recognise it anywhere: the twinkle of fairy light.

So she was here. Of course she would be here. Peter realised suddenly what that meant: He had a way home. He could catch Tink and have the others come to take him back. He could see the faint light of the dance hall leaking out onto the street in the distance. He could leave now and be free of this stress and anxiety once and for all. He didn't need this in his life, he never wanted to grow up and he wouldn't have to, not now not ever.
He took a deep breath ready to call out…

And then he saw her.

She was making careful steps toward the entrance, draped in the perfect blue of a Neverland sky. Peter's breath faded in his lungs as he watched her being greeted by men at the door. He could just make out her shy smile and the way a lock of her hair fell loose as she dipped into a curtsy, and then she disappeared indoors. As soon as he had lost sight of her he felt himself urged forward, something telling him that it was where he needed to be without a doubt. His chest felt once more like it was going to burst open: his heart beating up against his ribcage, as if trying to escape. But this time he wasn't afraid.
Peter smiled. So this was it. This was 'love'?

As simply as that, there was no more decision to make. He nodded to himself resolutely, and walked toward the dance hall.

…

"Pardon me but," Vincent began apologetically, "whoever this man is, he should feel wretched for what he's lost."

Lost… Wendy found her smile fading. The word chimed in her head. The finality with which he said it annoyed her. It was so out of place in this conversation. Nothing about Peter and the word 'lost' matched up. He had lost nothing, and never would. Peter only gained. Even in defeat, Peter had only succeeded in becoming the bigger man. She remembered his calm expression as he smiled up at hook from where he lay against cold rock.
"Lost? Who says he's lost anything?" Wendy asked heatedly, stopping awkwardly so as to cause her partner to stumble. If something became out of Peter's reach, it was simply because he felt no need to pursue it. Because if he did…
"Well I thought-" Vincent paused to correct himself, but before he could explain further Wendy became aware of something gathering attention at the entrance of the hall. She looked over to find it, and her eyes fell upon a dashing figure; he had just entered the hall amongst frantic hushes and captivated looks. His eyes found her in the crowd and at once he removed his hat, laying it on a nearby table. He had the strangest look on his face.

"Peter…" Wendy said in a breath. She assumed Vincent had taken that as his queue to leave but she couldn't be sure: She was past noticing him. She could see now why all these stories had surfaced: Peter did look like a lord. He was immaculately dressed, a cravat of bright emerald tied perfectly over a white shirt collar and a grey vest, finished with a black suit jacket. As was Peter's nature he wore it as if he had done every day of his life. He made his way through the bystanders and dancing pairs slowly to reach her side just as the music came to an end.

"Wendy…" He said her name softly. "There's something I have to tell you…" There was a second's delay, and then the beginnings of a new composition drifted through the air marking a new dance. Peter looked over to the musicians and seemed to decide that it could wait. He smiled and held out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly as everyone in the hall transformed themselves into new pairings. She followed Peter's lead, thankful that their first dance wasn't as lively as the one they had shared earlier.

"I thought you weren't going to come…" She said quietly hoping he could still hear her.

"I had to come." He said simply. She realised then the pressure she had been putting him under.

"I'm sorry, you didn't have to… I know everyone started talking, and we made our plan but…"
Peter didn't respond. He looked a little awkward, as if he couldn't decide what to do: His eyes were seemingly unable to settle on anything. Then Wendy felt her heart skip. She felt Peter's strong arms slowly urging her closer. She looked around at the other dancers, face burning, and couldn't understand how they were unable to see the intimacy of her situation. Then Peter's voice came again.

"This ball… It's important, isn't it?" He said a little vulnerably. "I saw you dancing just now… You seemed happy."

"Oh, no Peter it's not like that-"

"Your mother and father, they're hoping that you come home with a man, aren't they?" he said it as a fact.

"I… I suppose so. But I never-" Once again she was cut off.

"You should…" He said simply. She didn't understand…

"I should, what?" Wendy could feel the dread building in her chest. Was this it? Was this how her fairy-tale would come to an end? She didn't know if she was ready.

"You should find a man… You don't deserve to be alone…" Peter's arms held tight, keeping her at a distance too close to see him.

"No… No Peter I can't," She heard the fear in her voice. "I won't, not if it means leaving you." She could feel her heart breaking in two.
"What if…" Peter began. Wendy finally moved enough to see his face. They had already stopped dancing, and stood face to face in the middle of the hall. Peter was looking deep into her eyes. "What if it didn't…?"

"What… Peter I don't understand." She searched his eyes for any hint of meaning. Not leaving Peter? Wendy didn't have time to think: His hand came up, brushing her arm delicately in the process. His fingertips caught her chin gently and lifted it, leaving her neck exposed…