AN: Well, I finally got my hands on the computer, and fanfiction

AN: Well, I finally got my hands on the computer, and fanfiction.net is working again. Perfect timing, too…inspiration just happened to come along! Thanks to the people who reviewed this story; I wasn't sure how many reviews I would get, since I don't personally know that many Peter Pan fans. It's nice to know that there are some out there! Anyway, read on!

Memories

.chapter 2.

Morning sunlight beamed through the open window of Peter's room, and the young man awoke reluctantly at first. It was chilly outside, and any sane person would simply close the window instead of letting a draft in, but Peter made it a strong habit of not closing his windows. He liked the idea of an unrestricted window, and not a closed one, but he couldn't quite remember why…

The birds were busy chatting away outside, speaking of the weather and good trees and such, (*AN: If you've read "Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens", you would know that Peter could talk to and understand birds) but he really paid no attention to such picky things. Birds never had anything good to say anyway.

There was no bittersweet homesickness lingering in him this morning, even if Peter noticed it or not. It was gone, a banished emotion waiting around in the air for someone else to come along and pick up. There was something especially cocky about him today and it suddenly gave him more energy than is allowed in the mornings. Peter practically leapt out of bed (after a quick yawn), throwing off the covers with little effort. Perhaps he jumped out too quickly, for there was dizziness in his head that everyone sometimes gets when they stand up too fast.

He threw on his afternoon clothes, (T-shirt and jeans, very simple really) ignoring the fact that it was 7:00 am on a Saturday morning. Out the door he went, shutting it in such loud inconsiderate way that half the house stirred in their sleep with groans of disapproval. Morning air finally got to him, cutting past his thin clothing, and Peter shuddered slightly at the sudden cold.

Turning around and opening his room door with a loud creak, which also annoyed the rest of the household, he shuffled through his closet and found a light jacket to wear. Heading out once again with a tumultuous slam of the door, Peter headed downstairs, oblivious to an angry voice coming from the next room:

"Peter, make up your mind! In or out?! For heaven's sake, it's like living with an earthquake…"

_____

A lazy afternoon invaded the morning, and with no one having anything to do, there was a lethargic ambiance in the air. Peter never liked the feeling of lethargy, mostly because it made everyone else around him feel like doing nothing in particular. Days like this were usually filled with an ongoing TV, stretched out bodies on the couch and floor, and arguments over the television control. Today was no different.

"John, let me see the remote! You've had it for a whole hour now!"

"Wait until this show is over…" John muttered, his eyes transfixed on the TV.

"You said that last time…and the time before that…" Peter grumbled, tired of the entire thing.

"Well, excuse me, but I don't happen to see anything else on!" John defended himself loudly, snapping out of his daze.

"That's because you haven't been looking at any other channels, John," Wendy replied calmly, having more patience than the boys.

Late afternoon was turning into evening, doing so with the chiming of the grandfather clock striking six. The "Lost Boys" had gone off into a group together, traveling off to an endless number of places, not even thinking to invite Peter, Wendy, John, or Michael. This could have been considered rude, and it probably was (especially by Wendy), but to put it bluntly, no one really cared for it. Peter usually would have at least considered going, invitation or not, but as was said, lethargy was in the air, and it even managed to effect Peter.

Besides, it usually took them awhile to get back home. No one ever knew why, but Peter suspected it was nothing more than them living up to their names…

"Isn't there anything better on?" asked the latter with a distinctive hint of impatience that is all too well known.

John sighed as the ending credits rolled on the show he was watching so intently.

"No, not anymore," he said, almost disappointed. With a click of the remote, the TV was turned off, and the room was silent for a few rare moments. Then, quite suddenly:

"Peter, think of something for us to do," said Michael calmly, as if he had just told him to take out the trash. "You always come up with something interesting," he continued, mostly because he was simply getting tired of staring at a certain object for the entire day, be it television or a blank wall.

The mentioned one raised his brow slightly, his eyes sparkling under the lights. A hint of an idea was growing in his mind, but it wasn't large enough for him to notice…yet.

"Hmm, what's this? Can't think of what to do, and so you come to me, begging for excitement?" said he, growing slightly arrogant again. Of course, this after all is Peter Pan we are talking about, so it can be forgiven.

"I must admit, you do come up with the most…interesting things to do," commented Wendy, who was sitting in the comfy corner of the couch that was always reserved for her or Peter; whomever got there first.

"Yes," said John, almost sarcastically, "give us some adventure!"

Well, it certainly did take him long enough, but the idea of Neverland finally struck Peter's mind. It was perfect, it was easy! They were bored, so why not give them what they wanted? Adventure, as John had said, was only around the corner.

Actually, more like second star to the right…

A sly grin crept unto his face, the kind you see when someone gets an idea they don't want anyone to know about due to some unorthodox reason.

"…What is it, Peter?" asked Wendy, uncomfortable about the smile; she knew it all too well.

"Hmm? Oh, just thinking about a wonderful place everyone would love," he replied in a forced unruffled voice.

"Adventure?" queried Michael, always the eager.

"Plenty of it," came the response.

"Really?" said John, in an anxious voice.

"Well, of course! There are such a great many things to do!"

"Well, is it clean? It's not one of those wild places, I assume?"

"I would never take a lady anywhere else but an awfully tidy place," Peter voiced politely. "It very beautiful there, too," he quickly added in the same sneaky way he did when he first met them.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Michael the impatient. "Let's go!" he exclaimed while jumping to his feet.

"No, no, wait, not just yet," Peter said, shaking his head in objection. "We can't go just yet."

"Why not?"

"You'll have to wait until you can see the stars."

"At night?" squeaked Wendy. "What about the rest of the boys? You think I can just leave them alone in an open household? What a mess they'll make!"

"Hold on, we won't be gone long!" Peter almost yelled in fear of losing his one chance, stretching the truth slightly. "They can take care of themselves, and…I'll help clean up the mess if they do happen to make one," he added reluctantly.

"…All right," agreed Wendy, with a faint smile. It had been so long since they had done anything truly fun. "But just where is this adventurous, clean, beautiful place?"

"Ah, that you will have to wait and see," chuckled Peter, all the while choosing his words carefully.

"Until tonight then? Until you can see the stars?" enthusiastically asked Michael.

"Yes, until you can see the stars."

_____

Night came swiftly, mostly due to the fact that it was already half way above the horizon when the previous conversation took place. There wasn't a cloud in the sky; it was as if they had all decided to clear out and make way for Peter's sudden plans. Stars dotted the night like poked holes in a blanket of black, and one star shined brighter than the rest.

All four were in Peter's room, one leaning out the window and calling a strange name forgotten to the other three.

"Tink! Tinkerbell!! Tink!"

"Peter, what on earth are you doing?" questioned Wendy quizzically.

"TINKERBELL!" Peter screamed as loud as he could out the window and to the stars, ignoring the barrage of questions.

"You said you were going to take us someplace exciting, and no offense, but I don't consider your room a place of amusement," noted John dryly, voice dripping with sarcasm he often held when he was annoyed by something. Especially when he was annoyed at Peter.

An entire minute passed, and Peter finally gave up. He took a step back into his room, shaking his head.

"I don't get it. She's usually here in only a matter of seconds. A fairy's hearing is supposedly very sensitive."

"What are you talking about?!" John almost screamed. "Fairies?! Seriously, I think you've gone mad."

"If you would only wait-"

"Wait? Wait for what?! I don't see anything flying through that window! In fact, I don't see any-"

Poor John didn't get to finish his sentence, for at that very moment, a bright ball of light about the size of your fist zoomed into the room in such a hurry it came as a blur. It carried the sound of bells with it, and it tinkered on relentlessly, leaving trails of golden dusk in its wake.

"Tink! You're back!"

The little glowing fairy landed on Peter's nose and pinched it with all her might, both in anger and in joy of seeing her best friend again.

Unfortunately, all Peter felt was pain.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Stupid boy! How dare you!" she cried in a melody of bells, flying in circles around him. "You've grown! You've grown bigger!"

At this he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms stubbornly.

"I have not!" he cried indignantly.

"Haha!" Tinkerbell's laugh was a beautiful one, but the bitter sound of badgering was still in it. "Only in height! Only in height, Peter!"

"…well…"

Now, as this all went about, you can imagine the expressions on Wendy, John, and Michael's faces. This was their first time having seen a fairy (well, second, but let's not get technical) and they were speechless. Where did this thing come from? Why did it look like a fairy? And why did Peter understand its language? The questions rolled in hundreds at a time, but none left the mouths of their owners.

Eventually, a word escaped the caged mouth, although it came out more like a squeak.

"…Peter?" gasped Wendy.

The boy at heart and the fairy stopped their chatting of old times and turned towards the speaker. Tinkerbell immediately noticed Wendy and turned a light tint of red.

"Yes?"

"What…what…"

"What is that?!" finished Michael.

"This is Tinkerbell," he replied nonchalantly, pointing at his shoulder where Tink had decided to sit.

"What exactly is a Tinkerbell?" asked John, once again straightening his glasses, as if they were deceiving him.

Tinkerbell shouted something that sounded rather rude, but Peter didn't bother to translate.

"She is a fairy."

"A fairy? Oh, how beautiful!" blurted out Wendy, reminding Peter about the night he first saw her and her excitement about the mermaids.

He shrugged.

"If you say so."

This was followed by a fierce pinch on his ear.

"Agh, only kidding!"

Quite abruptly there was a change in subject, from fairies to travel, when Peter asked:

"Well, are you ready to go?"

"…Go where?"

"To Neverland, of course."

_________________________

AN: Eh, this chapter isn't exactly very long, but there was nothing to be done about it. I promise more action in the next chapter. Please review and tell me what you think!! J