A/N: Okay, here it is chapter 3! Sorry it took me so long to get it up. I had college apps and all that good stuff. Thank you so much for those of you that reviewed. You've truly made my day! I'm so glad someone is actually reading my fic. Keep up the reviews. Oh, and this chapter actually has dialogue this time along with some UST (hopefully not too much). I would rate this chapter a strong PG-13. If it needs to be higher let me know, then again the rating might change anyway as I get more….inspired. Well, enjoy!
Dark brown eyes wide, Nicole stared at the young man floating three feet above her. His hair was a mixture of auburn with red and copper highlights, lazily ruffled and messy as if he'd just woken up. Hazel eyes twinkled as if stars danced where pupils should have been, and his face looked like that of a little boy, almost feminine, except a broad jaw line and a pronounced Adam's apple showed that he was not a little boy at all. His shirt (if one may call it that) was made of leaves, somehow sewn together to form one coherent article of clothing. The shirt overlapped a pair of green pants, made of animal hide, that molded over lean muscular legs. A leather belt, clasped around a slender waist, held a dagger at one side and a small brown pouch at the other.
In all the years Nicole spent forgetting about him, in all the times she had told herself he never existed, Peter Pan stood (rather floated) before her very eyes. Utterly shocked, she was speechless and merely stared at him for what seemed like hours.
It took her two tries to finally say in a soft, hoarse voice, "Y– you're . . . Peter Pan?"
Still curious and faintly amused, Peter lowered himself over the girl until he was a few inches above her and said, in the same soft voice, "Yes."
He was so close now that Nicole could smell the faint scent of forest, grass, and wood on him. Giving him quick once over, she realized that he didn't look at all like the 12-year-old boy she'd imagined.
Feeling slightly uncomfortable with her bit of scrutiny, Peter righted himself on the ground and furrowed his brows. "Is something wrong?" he demanded with a childlike persistence.
"No, nothing. It's just that . . . I expected you to be, well, younger," Nicole said tentatively.
Looking down at himself, Peter chuckled softly. "Oh...hm...yeah. I've grown some haven't I. Well, I suppose it's from all those times visiting Wendy and Jane. Guess the years finally caught up to me." Raising his gaze back up, he asked, "What's your name?"
"Nicole." She was confused and a little thrown off by the abrupt change in subject.
"That's a nice name. But I think I'll call you Nicki instead. Sounds less grown-up"
"Yeah...sure. So wait, Wendy...Jane – you mean they're real? Or actually, you're real?" Nicole sat up straighter on the bed, curiosity overcoming whatever shock was left in her.
"I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't." Fists on narrow hips, Peter turned his attention over to a large cubed-shape machine seated at the back corner of a cluttered desk. "What is that?" He poked a finger on the black screen.
"That," Nicole pushed herself out of bed, "is a computer."
"Computer." Peter repeated. "Wendy and Jane never had anything like this in their room."
"I doubt they would've. Computers didn't exist until twenty years ago, well, PC's anyway." Frowning, Nicole ventured to ask a direct question. "Peter, how long has it been since your last visit away from Neverland?"
Placing a hand under his chin, he leaned one hip against the edge of the desk. "I don't know, but I remember Jane being about...eleven or maybe twelve. And that ladies wore white dresses to bed, not that." He gestured towards the garments Nicole was wearing.
Glancing down, she raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with the way I dress?"
"Nothing really. It's just something that Wendy would've called. . .what was that word– oh yeah, vulgar."
Offended, Nicole tried not to yell in Peter's face, and instead, calmly replied, though the words were strained, "Girls' fashion has changed since the early 1900s, Peter. I don't think anyone wears frilly white dresses to bed anymore."
"That's a shame. I thought it looked rather nice on girls."
"Yeah, and rather uncomfortable," Nicole said quietly, crossing her arms under her breasts.
As she glanced back at Peter, Nicole could've sworn that for an instant, his gaze drifted from her face to her chest. When she caught his eye, she noticed that his cheeks were a bit rosier than she remembered them at first, or was that just her imagination? Peter turned away and began to busy himself with a protractor and other such materials that scattered the desk.
"Peter?" He turned around at the sound of her voice. "Why did you come to my window tonight?"
"I. . .I was on my way to London to visit the Darling house. I haven't visited there in a while, and I was growing a bit lonesome in Neverland. Oh there's Tink and the lost boys, but I– I wanted . . ."
"A mother?" Nicole suggested.
Peter thought about it a few seconds. "I guess you could say that. I was hoping to bring Jane back for 'Spring cleaning,' that was what Wendy called it. Anyway, I was on my way to London when I heard someone from this window say, 'Second star to the right and straight on till morning.' It sounded like wish to go to Neverland."
Nicole's heart pounded in her ears. She had always wanted to go to Neverland as a child. It was the one thing she wished for, dreamed for, would give anything for. And here her dream stood, only, it was many years too late.
"Peter, I said those words, but– "
His expression brightened and he held out his hand to her. "Would you like to come with me to Neverland?"
"Yes, but– "
"Then come on, let's go!" Peter grasped her hand in his and was just about to leap out the window when Nicole reeled back and held her ground, causing Peter to unintentionally fly backwards and knock both of them onto the bedroom floor.
Blinking unfocused eyes, Peter gazed down and found the body of a wincing Nicole pinned underneath him. For a long moment, he simply stared down her. She was pretty, though not exceptionally gorgeous, but more the girl-next-door pretty. She had the most striking eyes, despite their dark color, laced with a wealth of black lashes. And her lips–the bottom being slightly fuller than the top–gave her a permanent pout that seemed almost inviting him to. . .
With a start, Peter scampered away from Nicole until his back hit the far wall. He'd just realized how close their bodies were and what pieces fit where. Wendy had always taught him what was appropriate behavior for a gentlemen. And right now, Peter couldn't help but feel that what had just happened was not at all appropriate.
A bit surprised, Nicole slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position and leaned her back against the side of the bed. She spared a glance at the panting boy and raised an eyebrow.
"Peter, are you. . .all right?" He nodded quickly, eyes closed.
Peter couldn't understand what was the matter with him. He had done something wrong, yet he felt a strange excitement when their bodies were pressed so close to each other. Avoiding her eyes, Peter quickly got to his feet and made his way to the window.
"Wait!" Nicole called, stumbling ungracefully to her feet. "Peter, wait. Please don't go." He looked back over his shoulder. "Please."
He stopped before the window and let out a deep breath as if he were tired. Turning around fully, he flashed Nicole a bright child's smile, as if he didn't have a care in the world, and with a small bow, extended his hand once again.
"What do you say, madam? Will you accompany me to Neverland?" Peter gazed up, smile wide and playful.
Nicole blinked, startled by the sudden change in tension, and nodded slowly. She quickly stepped back before Peter could catch her hand again.
"Wait. I can't stay that long in Neverland, Peter. I have school tomorrow and assignments due, and I'm falling behind on my college applications . . ." She raked a hand through her hair and began to pace the room. "Oh god, and there's that AP test coming up, and if I do go I'd have to pack, and what if my per . . . nah, it shouldn't come until another two weeks, but still it might just surprise me, and, oh crap, my mom, she's going to be so worried, I'll have to leave a note, and then there's–– " Nicole squeaked as Peter grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
"Nicki . . . calm . . .down!" He stopped shaking her and held her steady. "Look, time is different in Neverland. Days spent there is like minutes passing here in the 'real world.' Don't worry so much, all right?" He smiled dashingly. "You'll be back way before morning arrives."
Chuckling, Peter shook his head in a condescending manner.
"What?" Nicole demanded, pulling away from his loosened grip. "What's so funny?"
Peter burst into a state of laughter and fell backwards into the air. A bit peeved, Nicole crossed her arms and simply waited. He kept laughing and laughing until his red head hit the ceiling and his ribs shook with pain.
Peter sat in the air, laughter still glittering his eyes, and said, "Girls definitely talk too much. I swear it's as if they have train engines running through their mouths." He planted both feet on the ground in front of Nicole. "I don't mind listening to girls talk, they have rather nice voices. But one person can only take so much jabbering."
Steam rising out of her head, Nicole grabbed a pillow and threw it with full force at Peter. With fast hands, Peter caught the pillow and rebounded it back to her. The pillow hit her square in the face.
"You're so immature!" Nicole yelled. She tried to fix her mussed hair and, without success, let out an exasperated breath that blew her tangled bangs up then down.
Peter raised an eyebrow and floated towards her. "You know, you're a funny girl," he stated smiling. Then, flying around her once, he landed beside her and grinned disarmingly. "So, you still want to go to Neverland?"
Nicole looked at him sideways and couldn't stop the smile spreading across her face. "Yes, but let me pack a few things first, okay?"
Peter nodded. "All right. I'll just explore while you get your things." And with that, he flew up to examine the dusty boxes of toys on the top shelf.
"Just think, Neverland," Nicole whispered to herself, and rushed off to the other end of the room to pack her sports bag.