A/N: Whew, I was very inspired this weekend. Chapter 4 is up faster than I thought, but just watch me get writer's block the following week. Anyway, this chapter is a bit strange and I kind of veered off into a different direction, but it still fits the story (I hope). Thank you ever so much for those of you that reviewed! Ok, now I sound like that red-head on Hey Arnold. But I really appreciate the reviews, keep them coming. And I like to thank a dear friend of mine, Jake (though he'll probably never know), who gave me the idea for this chapter. So I'll stop jabbering now and let y'all enjoy the story.
Peter glanced into the old toy boxes. He didn't find anything of much interest until he floated by a box labeled "Jordan's Old Stuff." Curious, Peter slowly lifted the lid off the box and found a pile of magazines. The top one was a Sports Illustrated and below that was a car magazine. Peter smiled excitedly. Years ago, Wendy had taught him how to read so that he could tell stories to the lost boys while she was away. However, Peter could never tell stories with the same vigor and clarity that Wendy had. He mostly read stories to himself. Since he was out of reading material, Peter was almost ecstatic over his findings.
He quickly grabbed several magazines from the box and floated down. He sat Indian style on the carpet floor, and was just about to open the magazine with Shaq on the cover when he noticed a pretty pink magazine buried underneath the National Geographic to his right. Pulling the magazine up, Peter saw a beautiful brunette on the front cover dressed in a pale pink lace brassiere with matching panties. Her hair was pushed to one side and she lay sideways on a bed of pink satin. And she had the most suggestive smile Peter had ever seen.
Eyes wide, Peter couldn't help but stare at the girl on the cover. Wendy would be furious if she saw this, Peter thought. But then again, times have changed. His forced his eyes to look at the magazine title, Victoria's Secret. Curiosity being the motive, Peter tentatively opened the magazine to the first page. He found a blue-eyed blonde wearing a similar outfit in deep red. He turned another page then another and found more young women dressed in the same fashion with variations here and there. Feeling a bit embarrassed, Peter was about to return the magazine to the scattered pile on the floor when his eyes fell upon a picture of a very pretty woman with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. She wore a pearl white teddy with sheer white pantyhose and was laid out on a violet bedspread adorned with a wealth of white pillows. Her smile was pleasant and modest unlike the other ones he'd seen. And the position of her legs, one placed gently over the other, further enhanced this image of innocence yet with the underlying suggestion of a daring spirit. Peter found himself strangely reminded of Nicole. Actually, now that he thought about it, the model (though taller and thinner) looked rather like an older version of Nicole. Same hair, same eyes, same. . .
A soft hem hem, brought Peter out of his trance. He looked up to find a blank-faced Nicole with hands on her hips, tapping her foot, staring down at him. A rapid blush crept up Peter's face.
"Having a good time?" Nicole asked, raising an eyebrow. Peter quickly tossed the magazine aside and rose to his feet. Pointed ears turning red, he swallowed audibly before responding.
"I–I found. . .uh. . .this in that um. . .box up there." He gestured towards the opened box with Jordan's old stuff. "I didn't know they made books like this." He smiled nervously. Nicole's face remained blank but vaguely amused. Inside, she was practically laughing her head off . "I um––you see, I was––there's a good. . ." Peter ran his hand through his hair desperately, searching for the best explanation. He'd never been in a situation where he felt this embarrassed before. Nicole's blank face slipped several times into a smile. However, Peter was too nervous and too busy scrambling his brain for words to take notice.
Giving up, he blurted out in one breath "Is-it-hot-in-here-or-is-it-just-me?"
Nicole burst out into laughter, dropping the suave act, and fell to the floor. She hadn't laughed so hard since she was a little girl. She kicked at the ceiling and rolled on the floor, and laughed until tears flowed from her eyes and her sides ached. And when Peter scowled and said, "That wasn't funny," Nicole laughed even more. After what seemed like hours, Nicole finally calmed herself, and only giggled now and then when Peter crossed his arms and pouted.
"Oh, I'm sorry Peter." Nicole sat up and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. Peter ignored her and averted his attention to the desk next to him. "C'mon, don't sulk." Nicole looked up at Peter and smiled a bright and cheerful smile, giving her the appearance of a little child. Peter felt his own smile spread across his face. Despite his anger, he couldn't resist such a pretty smile. It was then that he noticed Nicole had changed her clothes. She still wore that ghastly tank top, but she replaced the huge pajama pants with what looked like. . .denim trousers?
"Since when did girls wear trousers?" Peter asked, offering his hand to help Nicole up.
"Since they started burning their bras in public in the 1960s." She took the offered hand and rose to her feet, which were now clad in black sneakers with a red swoosh on the side. Peter made an almost disgusted face. If he hadn't known better, he would have mistaken Nicole for a boy.
"What?" Nicole asked.
Peter shook his head. "I don't know what's happened over the years, but for girls to wear boy's clothing, it's. . .disturbing."
"Disturbing?" Nicole half-laughed.
Peter shrugged. "It's like they don't want to be recognized as a lady. That book over there certainly suggests that." He pointed to the Victoria's Secret magazine.
"Peter, that's a shopping catalog for women to buy um. . .unmentionables. Why it's in my brother's old stash of mags I can only guess– actually, I don't even want to know. But people have become less uptight over the years. We're more comfortable with our skins now." She picked the scattered magazines and seated them into a neat pile on her desk. "Besides, the Victoria's Secret catalog is nothing compared to what's shown on the media." She looked at Peter. "I'm guessing you've never seen a girl in her underwear."
"Of course I have," Peter protested. "Just not in anything that colorful."
Nicole smiled teasingly. "Really. Who?"
Peter shifted his position. "Wendy," he mumbled.
Both of Nicole's eyebrows shot up. "And how did you end up in such a situation?"
Peter found the carpet to be of immense interest.
"Peter?"
He slowly met Nicole's curious eyes. And eventually sighed. "Wendy got caught in a rainstorm on her way back to the hideout from picking berries one afternoon. I was taking a nap when I heard her footsteps come down the stairs. I pretended to be still asleep so that she wouldn't catch me in a long conversation about how unpredictable the weather was in Neverland. I like Wendy, but sometimes she can talk on for hours without end." His gaze drifted to the bedpost, as if he was seeing before him the very memory he was recalling. "She came by my bed to see if I was still sleeping– naturally, I fooled her into thinking that I was. She tiptoed off to her bed, which was across from mine, and started to unbutton her rain-soaked night dress. I knew I should have closed my eyes or turned away– Wendy never liked people to watch her change, she didn't even let me change when she was around, she said it wasn't proper. But as I lay there, I couldn't stop watching her. She peeled off the wet gown and wrapped her arms around herself. She was shivering and dripping wet with her curly hair plastered to her face, and wore only a pair of white-laced underwear. Wendy probably wasn't older than 13 at the time, and she was the prettiest lady I had ever seen. I felt a strange feeling in my stomach, like there were fishes jumping all around inside. I wanted her to stay forever in Neverland." Peter smiled sadly. "But she said she had to go back, she couldn't stay."
All teasing escaped Nicole. She could see the brief glimpse of lost pass through Peter's eyes before he looked up and flashed his bright smile once again. Nicole blinked. How could he change emotions so fast?
"So what do you say, Nicki? Ready to go to Neverland?" Peter asked in his usual playful voice.
Nicole nodded and grabbed her sports bag. "Yes, I'm ready."
Peter reached into his brown pouch and blew a fistful of golden fairy dusk at Nicole. She giggled as the glittering particles tickled her nose and eyelashes.
"Now think of happy, wonderful thoughts," said Peter as he floated a few feet before her.
Nicole closed her eyes and pictured Christmas morning when she was little. Her father had the camcorder ready and her mother sat smiling on the sofa while she and her brother excitedly opened presents. She remembered the pine scent from the Christmas tree and the empty milk glass and cookie plate they had left out for Santa. And she remembered how happy she was when she unwrapped her first Peter Pan book.
Nicole opened her eyes and found herself floating three feet off the ground. "Oh my god," Nicole gasped, "I–I'm really flying!" Nicole flew once around the room then stopped, then flew around the room again, laughing. She couldn't believe this was happening. She was actually flying!
Peter appeared in front of her, smiling. "Take my hand." Nicole did. "Second star to the right..."
"And straight on till morning," beamed Nicole.
"On to Neverland!" shouted Peter. And off they went into the starry night.