Discovering

Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan.

A/N: I basically performed a much-needed surgery on this piece. Totally revamped. Enjoy. Sorry about the grammer mistakes. (3-8-07)

"Mum...?"

Wendy glanced up from her needlework. "Yes, dear?"

Genevieve, the mirror image of her mother, bit her lip. She sat nervously on the edge of her mother's bed. Wendy waiting expectantly for a few seconds before she quirked an eyebrow. "What is it, Genevieve?"

Genevieve sighed heavily. "Mum... this is rather difficult to put, but... I need... well, I need some advice."

"Advice, dear?" Wendy repeated curiously.

Genevieve nodded and cleared her throat uncomfortably. "The thing is... well, you see..." Genevieve blushed slightly and mumbled something incoherent. Wendy broadened her smile. "Speak up dear, your mumbling," She encouraged kindly.

Genevieve glanced around nervously and whispered so quietly that Wendy had to strain to hear. "Boys."

Wendy blinked. "Boys?"

"Shhh, Mum! Don't let Papa hear you!" She hissed.

Wendy smiled, though it looked rather more like a smirk. "I believe he's a bit preoccupied with your brothers at the moment. Something about that new automobile nonsense. Now... what exactly do you want to know about... boys?"

Genevieve sighed again. "Everything! Nothing makes sense! When I was younger, it was a ton easier... now it's all so blasted confusing! The other girls at school are always whispering behind their hands about me, because I don't go around chasing boys and giggle like a ninny whenever I'm near one," She paused to take a breath. "I just don't get it!"

Wendy was quiet for a moment. "Genevieve... there isn't anything wrong with not wanting to be like everyone else..."

"I know, Mum! But..." She faltered.

"Sweetheart?" Wendy pressed.

"Well, it's not what you think..." She paused and frowned unhappily, "Blast! Well I suppose... that I wish... that I had what it takes to -- attract their attention," Genevieve said faultingly, not entirely sure if what she just admitted made sense.

Wendy was puzzled. "Do you mean... you want them to notice you, but -- you don't want to go to otherworldly means to do it...?" Wendy interjected slowly.

Genevieve grinned. "Yes! How do I know if he's attracted to me...or my, er, assetts?" She asked quietly, fearfully.

Suddenly, it clicked. Wendy's eyebrows shot up in shock and understanding. "Genevieve Angela Pan! Are you trying to tell me that there is a boy?"

Genevieve's face flushed crimson at her mother's outburst. "Mum! Keep it down, will you? It's definitely not what you think!"

"Well?"

"I—I admit that... there is a boy... that I like -- nothing has happened, if that's what you think -- but I'm not sure what to do about it... and what to do if he tries to..." She faltered, seemingly unable to continue under her mother's bemused gaze.

A stab relief washed over Wendy as she began to comprehend her daughter's words. She smiled. "Do you trust him, dear?"

Genevieve looked puzzled at her words. "I think so," She said uncertainly.

"Darling, if you really like this young man, then I'm sure he does as well... not to say that he likes himself," she corrected herself humorously, "but rather that he likes you, as well," Wendy concluded with a small smile, picking up her needlework again.

Genevieve smiled hesitantly, a flash of hope on her face.

Wendy brushed her hand under her daughter's chin. "Don't you dare fret about it, love. It'll all come together in time. Even if it doesn't make sense now, it'll become clearer. Trust me."

"What will make sense in time?" Said a deep, booming voice from the doorway. Wendy felt her heart skip a beat. The owner of that deep voice that sent shivers down her spine every time she heard it. It clearly was, yes, the one and only. Her Husband, the father of her children, aka Peter Pan. Wendy still sometimes had trouble believing it.

"Papa!" Genevieve gasped. "I was just... um..."

"We were just talking about Aunt Linda, Peter... go on Genevieve, go to bed," Wendy interveined warmly.

Genevieve nodded hastily and left without a second thought. When the door shut with a snap, Peter Pan looked suspiciously at Wendy through narrowed eyes.

"What was that about?" He sent a slightly comical glare her way and she laughed.

"Oh, it's nothing..."

"It is too something, Wendy!"

"Don't be childish, Peter."

"She's only 15, Wendy! I think I should be informed of everything that she's telling you -- anything and everything," he said firmly. Wendy raised an amused eyebrow.

"All right... she's just..." Wendy glanced at his triumphant his face and smirked, "discovering."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Peter said, unfazed. Then his eyes widened dramatically as it seemed to dawned on him. "What?"