Author's Note: Thank you to Captain Oblivious and ChildOfGod and all the rest of my reviewers for their encouragement. I'm trying to update as soon as I can. I hope you all continue to like my fic.
Chapter Five
Wendy seemed to have lost feeling in her legs, as she stood frozen in place, heedless to the looks she was receiving. She was all but gaping with her mouth open at the man before her. Her eyes were wide and her expression shocked as the two men turned to fully look at her. The one who had caused this sudden reaction looked at her almost hesitantly and she felt something strange pass through her.
"Ah, there you are Wendy," said Nibbs as he waved her towards them. "You must meet my new friend."
Wendy slowly approached with her eyes glued to his face.
"May I present my sister, Miss Wendy Darling," gestured Nibbs proudly. "The master storyteller."
"Miss Darling," said Peter holding out his hand for her grasp. "At last we are introduced."
Wendy couldn't help the shiver that ran through her back at his touch and the tone of his voice. It spoke of something far deeper. "How do you do sir?" she asked with a curtsy as she watched him dip his head to lay a kiss lightly upon her knuckle. She knew that he could see that she was trembling. She turned her questioning gaze towards Nibbs.
"Oh dash it all," exclaimed Nibbs as he smacked his head with the palm of his hand. "I have forgotten your name old chap."
"Panning," answered Peter as he smiled at Nibbs. "That is quite all right."
"I was just telling him how well you tell 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea," commented Nibbs. He noticed the strange instantaneous connection between Wendy and his new friend but chose to ignore it.
"Have you, read that one sir?" asked Wendy as if she were suddenly out of breath.
"I cannot say I have," answered Peter as he tried to turn his heads towards Nibbs again. "Though my library is fairly extensive, I cannot say I have heard of that particular one."
"You have your own library?" exclaimed Nibbs. "I say. I shall have to pay you a visit to investigate what you have in your collection."
"You are welcome anytime you like," smiled Peter. He risked a glance at Wendy to find her staring at his face. She looked almost as if she were lost. He forced himself to look at the clock. "I fear it is time for me to depart," he said. "I must get my guardian to rest. He was not feeling well earlier."
"Must be an epidemic going around," commented Nibbs. "Our aunt has come down with something as well."
"It must be," agreed Peter. "I shall look for you Nathaniel. Come by my house anytime you like. Bring your brothers along with you, if you like. I should like to be around more fellows my age." Peter smiled warmly at his friend and couldn't help but see the imploring look on Wendy's face. Her eyes spoke volumes of uncertainty and questions. "Until we meet again Miss Darling," he said far too softly to his liking. He gave her a slight bow.
Wendy could not form words. The only thing she found she could do was curtsy and watch as he disappeared again. Her heart ached as she watched him distance himself from her and get lost in the crowd. Just as she was about to run after him, Nibbs chose that moment to speak.
"I say smitten would be the short end of it," he commented.
"What?" asked Wendy, as if she just noticed him standing beside her.
Nibbs laughed. "I have known you a long time dear sister," he said. "You have never looked at any man as you were at him."
Wendy looked down at her hands. No, she had looked at someone else that way before.
"So that was all that happened?" asked Smee as he and Peter rode their carriage back home.
"Yes," answered Peter distractedly. He was staring out the windows, watching the quiet streets of London.
"Hmm."
Peter turned to look at Smee. "What is it?"
Smee was rubbing his chin in thought. "I would have thought you would be more direct, lad."
"So did I," answered Peter honestly. "I panicked. My confidence has failed me."
"That happens to the best of us," reassured Smee. "I am just surprised that you showed so much restraint."
"It was not restraint but more fear to kept me still."
"That only shows that you have matured," explained Smee. "If you had been the boy you were, you would have swept the floor and flown out the window with Wendy in your arms. You chose the dignified path. I can't say cowardice is not a good thing here."
"But I am Peter Pan!" exclaimed Peter. "I am confident about everything!"
"Ye be older now," answered Smee. "But I feel as if you were keepin' something out."
"What do you mean?"
"There be something else you are worried yeself about."
Peter almost asked him what he meant but realized he had kept something out. Something that was the cause of his lack of confidence. "I ran into Nibbs on the street this afternoon," he said flatly.
"And?"
"He did not recognize me," he finished.
"It would be difficult to recognize you now," said Smee.
"Not like that," insisted Peter. "It was almost as if he had forgotten me."
"You fear you are forgotten by the young Miss as well?"
"Now I am not so sure," sighed Peter. "But the connection we shared is still there. It felt stronger."
"Did Miss Wendy recognize you?"
"There were moments when I thought she did," said Peter as he ran his hand through his hair. "But she did not voice a thing. Even when she, Nibbs and myself were conversing, she did not say anything to ask. What am I to think?"
"Do you regret your decisions if she did not remember you?"
"No," answered Peter quickly. "I have made up my mind that I will win her whether or not she does know who I am."
Smee watched Peter pause again. He felt great sympathy towards the young man for his turmoil. The evening was a success and a failure all in one to Peter. It definitely had not been as eventful as he had foreseen. He had thought that the two would quickly find each other and shout. He had already planned a quick departure for them both when they created that "appalling and disrespectful" display that was sure to set off gossip. Not that he had thought Peter's training all fruitless. Still, Peter had not fully changed, in his opinion. Maybe Smee was mistaken by that assumption. Now, it seemed that both were acting like the respectable adults that they were raised to be. The whole situation gave Smee a sense of supreme pride. This courtship may take longer than he thought.
"That does not stop my heart from aching just a little," confessed Peter. "I had wished that she knew me and could love me as something more."
The carriage came to a halt in front of the Panning residence and Peter climbed out first before helping Smee out. Even in his distress and self-pity, he did not forget that Smee was becoming more and more fragile. The old man was his anchor. His feelings towards him were that of a son to a father. Smee would never admit it, but he was becoming more dependent upon his cane. He was never young to begin with, but Peter could see the struggle.
"Would you like me to escort you to your room?" Peter asked worriedly.
"Don't trouble yeself my lad," answered Smee. "I thank you for yer consideration but I am still capable." With that, Peter watched his guardian make his way slowly up the stairs and bid him good night.
Sleep would not come to him tonight. Sighing, he decided he would make the most of his sleeplessness and spend the rest of the night working on the tree house. Quickly and as quietly as he could, he went to his room to change out of his costume before walking back outside with a lantern in hand. It would not help him much in the dense London fog. He found himself missing the brilliant lights of the fairies. They would have helped him immensely at that moment.
The uncertainties of the night were almost too much for him. He had, had the perfect chance to tell Wendy who he was. He could have showed her the power of her hidden kiss. How much she had changed the boy who refused to grow up. Although he did thoroughly enjoy being her masked suitor in the beginning. He simply couldn't help himself but to take advantage of that chance. When he had turned and saw that she was staring at him disbelief, he had panicked. It certainly was not the way he had foreseen things being when he had been allowed to be with her. Perhaps if Nibbs had not been present, things would have been different. What he saw in Wendy's eyes gave him more hope and warmth than he could have ever asked for. The feelings that were awakened with her presence was both startling and inviting. Suddenly time could not move fast enough.
It was there, outside and in the tree house, that Smee found him the next morning. The young man slept in the space he had made for Wendy. It was by far the most luxurious in all the tree house. There was never anything good enough for whatever was to be Wendy's. His dreams were not peaceful. He seemed in great distress as he squirmed and pleaded within the sleeping space. He had hoped that maybe seeing Wendy again and being in her company would stop these nightmares. From the looks of it, it wasn't to be so. The old man did not know whether it was a good or worrisome thing when Peter did not rush to the Darling residence, but instead had opted for taking a long stroll at Kensington Gardens. Smee could do little else but let Peter handle this disappointment on his own.
Peter was quiet and his step was not as cheerful as he walked the grounds of the familiar park. He paid no heed to those around him and kept to himself. The quiet sounds of the water to his left helped him try to drown out the unnecessary sounds of others occupying the park grounds. He kept his head bowed so that his hat covered his face as he paced the familiar grounds back and forth. Flashes of Wendy's face paced through his mind with lightning speed. All the expressions were of shock, awe, happiness and hopefulness. How much he could not let go of that face.
Peter stood beside the pond for a long time. His hands in his pockets and his head was still bowed. The images of Wendy's face were so vivid that he could almost reach out and touch her. He had dreamt of her again. This time the dream had been different. Hook's old taunts had resurfaced and had been precise in its bite. The dead man's venomous words never failed to sting Peter.
"She would rather grow up than stay with you."
The words had been true. No matter how enticing the offer of immortality and youth on an island full of adventure, Wendy had declined. She had chosen to grow up and separate herself from him completely.
"What is this I see? There is another, in your place," Hook had hissed. "He is called, husband."
That insight always did him in. In his dream, Peter had seen the husband that would replace him. A well to do, handsome young man who had Wendy in his arms flashed before him. He watched the scene helplessly. Wendy happened to glance in Peter's direction but her eyes were far off. She had looked away without the briefest moment of recognition. If Smee hadn't awoken him that morning, he probably would have cried out his anguish. The cry wanted to escape him now. His mouth unconsciously opened to deliver it but it died before it could be uttered when Peter noticed a presence behind him and spun around.
Two eyes of sapphire blue were watching him in uneasiness and surprise. Full lips that had produced such magic when they had pressed against his, were open an expression of nervousness. A voice that he had longed to hear refused to sound. Hands that were so small and delicate were hung by her sides in stunned surprise. His heart quickened at the sight of her loveliness and he longed to hold her in his arms.
"Mm, Mr. Panning!" she exclaimed uneasily. "What a surprise to find you here."
"A very nice surprise to see you Miss Darling," he answered quickly to hide his surprise. He gave her a quick bow before giving her a comforting smile. "Have you been accompanied by your brothers?"
"No," she said shaking her head. "I felt a great need to stroll the parks by myself."
"I understand," said Peter. "But it does not do to have a lady unescorted in such a large park. Would it be terribly blunt to ask if I could join you in your stroll?"
"Not at all sir," she answered softly. "I would like your company very much."
"Can I offer you my arm?" He offered with a grin.
"You can sir," she answered as she returned his smile. She gently wrapped her arm around his and they began their walk together.
They walked a slow pace as they listened to the whistles of the trees and the soft sounds of the water that they walked beside. The weather was cool and the sun was still high in the sky but it would not be long before the sun began its descent into sleep. Birds flew past them and the fellow patrons were in their own worlds as they passed. A short distance away there were two young boys throwing a ball at one another.
Wendy's grip upon his arm was almost hesitant and Peter felt the familiar electricity at her touch. He wondered briefly as he tried to imagine what her touch could do to him if it were directly upon his skin.
"How did you enjoy your night last night?" asked Peter to keep his thoughts clear.
"Very well, thank you," she said. "But it did leave me a little uncertain."
Peter risked a look at her and wondered if he should dare to ask her what it was. "Uncertain?"
Wendy's blue eyes turned to his. "About you sir," she said.
"What makes you uncertain?" he asked as his mouth suddenly felt very dry.
"It was you who I danced with last night, was it not?"
"Yes, I was," he answered evenly.
"I can find no words to get around what has been troubling all night," confessed Wendy as she stopped walking to look at him properly. "So I must just come out with it." Wendy inhaled deeply to find her courage.
"Watch out!" shouted one of the boys as a ball flew past Peter's head and knocked Wendy's parasol out of her hands and into the water. Peter watched as the ball bounced back towards the boys and turned to Wendy quickly to see if she had been hurt.
Wendy let out a loud gasp of disbelief as she rushed towards the edge of the water. "Oh heavens!" she exclaimed in dismay. "That parasol belongs to my mother." She bit her bottom lip in dispair.
"Dearly sorry Miss," said the little boy with his small friend beside him. He could not have been more than ten. "I threw it too hard. Begging your pardon Miss."
"It was an accident," said Wendy as she gave him a warm smile. "Do not trouble yourselves for that. But I do not know how I shall face my mother when I tell her that her favorite parasol is floating around the round lake in Kensington Gardens."
"Shall I go and fetch it?" asked Peter as he stood beside her, his eyes never leaving the beloved parasol.
"It would not do to have you soaked just to reach it," reasoned Wendy as she unconsciously grabbed hold of his arm to keep him still. She somehow knew that he would do just that.
Peter gave her a wide grin that made her heart flutter and he turned towards the scared little boy. "We shall make an adventure of it," he said with a wink. "With the current, it is bound to come close enough to the shores to snatch and we shall be there when it does. What do you think?"
"That would be excellent."
"Good, now off we go!" shouted Peter as they ran along side the water with the direction of the current.
"Oh!" Wendy managed to exclaim helplessly as she watched them. Had she been younger, she would have joined them. Now she could not. Her skirts were too voluminous and constricting for her to run. It would not do to be running around and risk looking disheveled for everyone to see. She had no other choice but to walk a little quicker than usual behind them. She watched as Peter turned his head and laughed and she stopped in her step. She knew that laugh.
"Look there men!" shouted Peter, not at all noticing that Wendy was staring at him with a very unladylike expression. "We must grab branches so as to lure it towards us."
"Won't we get into trouble for breaking off the branches?" asked one of the boys as he watched with apprehension as Peter snapped one of the longer branches off the tree.
"It is either we risk punishment from the authorities or failing this fair lady by not returning her parasol," said Peter with a reassuring smile.
"Hurry!" shouted the other boy as he pointed towards the oncoming prize. "It will pass us."
"All right men," said Peter. "Here is our chance."
During this grand display of heroism shown in behalf of herself, Wendy could not have cared less about the outcome. Her eyes were entranced by the man who would be her hero. The grin on his face and the laughter that erupted from his lips put her in a dream like trance. She did not know what was real and what was her imagination. She watched as he succeeded in grabbing hold of her mother's parasol and lifting it high above his head like a trophy. A huge grin was on his face as he beamed at the boys with him.
"We are victorious!" proclaimed Peter brightly. "Shall we return our treasure to its rightful owner?"
Before the boys could respond they hear the familiar call of their mothers to return to them. Both boys gave a holler and thanked Peter quickly for the excitement before running away. Peter still had a proud grin upon his face as he watched the boys run off. With his treasure right within his grasp, he turned to Wendy. What he saw took his breath away, almost making him drop what he had worked hard to rescue.
Peter didn't trust himself to speak. It almost seemed like he was still dreaming as he continued to look at her. He watched her approach him hesitantly but he found his feet weren't moving. They wouldn't move forward and they wouldn't carry him away. The only thing he could do was watch as this heavenly creature made her way slowly towards him. His eyes moved across her body as he tried to memorize everything about her. The light swaying of her hips made her dress swish to the sides. Her lips were quivering nervously. Her eyes seemed to ask so many questions as she approached him.
Wendy's pace towards him was very slow and cautious. He could feel his arms itch to grab hold of her and never let go. She stopped just when short of having their chests touching and looked up into his face. Stormy green eyes looked down at her in a look of longing that she could not dismiss.
"What are you?" she gasped. Her hand went up to his face as if she were examining him but stopped short of touching his cheek. "Are you a ghost to haunt me so?"
Peter stood very still and watched as she bit her bottom lip. Her gloved hand touched his cheek lightly and her eyes followed her fingers.
"I know you must think I am mad, sir," she said as her hand traveled over his eyes. "Please believe that I do not indulge in these kinds of inhibitions often." She had a dreamy look in her eyes. Her touch was making him quake and she longed to feel the skin of her hand. The words she spoke were said as if, even she, was not paying attention to them. She blinked as if her trance was broken and she made to move her hand away, but Peter grabbed hold of it.
"What ghosts haunt you lady?" he asked gently.
Wendy bit her lip again and looked very embarrassed about her bold actions. She turned away from his infectious gaze to keep the blush from her cheeks. "A boy," she whispered sadly as the winds began to pick up, causing her skirts to sway.
"What boy do you dream of?"
Her gaze was upon him again. The dreamy look back on her face. "A boy that will never grow up," she answered softly. He heard the soft sigh that escaped her as he unconscious began to lightly rub her hand with his thumb.
"How am I a ghost for a boy?" he asked curiously. Wendy, who was always so vibrant and thoughtful, was talking as if she were the ghost.
Wendy slowly withdrew her hand from his grip and sighed again. "I see him in your eyes," she answered looking away again. "All the feelings that I had when I as with him seem to all resurface when I am with you."
"Could I be that boy you long for?"
Wendy gave a sad laugh as she shook her head. "No," she said as she stepped away from him. "As much as he was a hero to sacrifice himself, that is one thing he would never sacrifice."
"What is that?"
"His youth," she said with such finality that Peter would have believed her had he not known otherwise. "He would never give that up for anyone."
"What if he had?" urged Peter as he watched her withdraw from him. The tears in her eyes breaking him. "What if he did give it up?"
"It is too late," said Wendy as she shook her head. "I am grown." She turned to walk away.
"No," said Peter as he reached for her hand and held it within his, dropping the parasol onto the floor. "I am just in time. We have grown together."
"We?" she asked as she sniffed through her tears. She avoided his eyes.
Peter pulled her closer to him and held her face gently in his to force her to return his stare. "Can you really not see me?" pleaded Peter. "Have you forgotten me so completely that you cannot see the face of the boy?"
"What have you done?" she asked returning his gaze, her eyes like shining pools as she seemed to implore him.
"Only what I have promised," he said pulling her to him so that their faces were breaths apart. He pressed her hands against his chest as he looked into her eyes again.
"Can it really be you?" she asked in a whisper. She looked so fragile and shaken. "Is it truly possible?"
Instead of answering her with his words, he guided her hands towards the collar of his shirt. He glanced around to see if anyone were nearby before he slowly opened up the collar to expose the chain he constantly wore around his neck. He let her hands linger against his chest and kept his arms at his sides as he watched her. There was wonder and a sense of awe about her. Her eyes were fixed upon the chain and she seemed to fight within herself. Slowly, her hand went to grab hold of one side of the chain and bring it out against the white of his shirt. Her fingers slid smoothly down the metal until the thimble rested upon her palm.