Title: Doppelganger
Author: Japanpeterpan
Pairing: very muted Hook/Pan
Rating: PG
Summary: Peter loses control of his shadow.
Disclaimer: All familiar characters and situations are Copyright by J. M. Barrie, Universal Studios, etc.
Warning: Slash,
A/N: Set before the entire Wendy plot takes place, though after the crocodile-hand fiasco. I envision a very movieverse shadow, in that it's perfectly mobile even when it's detached. Knowing a little bit about the Jungian archetype of the Shadow might help. Or not.

Battling with Pan was beginning to be not only utterly humiliating, but also very predicable. Hook swung his sword, half-heartedly, and missed for the umpteenth time. He knew he would miss, coming to expect it after eons of playing the cat and mouse game where the conclusion seemed forgone. He suspected that Peter set the rules of their game, though he would never admit so to himself aloud. His life, in short, was a doomed enterprise by definition.

Yet this particular miss was different. Though Pan's small, pert body was in the air and out of reach before anyone could blink, there had been a ripping sound. Not a scratch on the lad, of course, but something strange lay crumpled on the deck below him-- something dark and impossibly flimsy, and Hook could only guess it had been something important by the expression on the boy's face.

The strange form sat up on the floor-- disoriented, but only for a moment. It sprang up with a lightness Pan himself could envy, and flew several rounds across the ship. It was reveling in its freedom, Hook gathered, once he overcame his bewilderment at what had happened.

"Look at what you've done!" Peter groaned. "You never fight fairly. Who strips shadows off of their opponent?"

Hook said nothing, and merely followed the shadow with his eyes. It didn't so much fly as slide against surfaces, and it dared not escape the boundaries of the ship. If only Pan himself were as tractable, Hook thought wistfully.

The dark, translucent silhouette suddenly stopped and began drawing closer to Hook, drifting eerily along the deck of the ship. Hook drew his sword, unsure whether it could do any real damage to him, or he to it.

"Don't rip my shadow!" yelled Pan, deliciously nervous. This bolstered Hook's confidence only a little, because the shape seemed to grow more sinister as it approached. Its fingers seemed to stretch out longer as they reached for Hook's boots. Quickly the shadow leapt up against the man's body, but did nothing more harmful than make strange motions.

The entire crew stood aghast, slowly realizing that Peter Pan's shadow was lavishing kisses and putting itself into lascivious positions around Hook's torso-- to the extent that a flat, ethereal body could do so. Hook chuckled as he felt the strange sensation against him. He could make out legs circling around his waist and mouth eagerly pressing itself against his lips. He finally gazed up at Pan, who was hovering uncertainly above them, growing paler with each new ministration made by his doppelganger.

"Stop it!" the boy finally stuttered out, trying to decide whom he was addressing. "Don't let it do that!"

Hook grinned. "I can hardly pry this thing off of myself. Come and claim it, if you like." In truth, he enjoyed this rare contact immensely. Almost as much as seeing Peter so agitated and embarrassed.

The boy floated down to the deck, forgetting all sense of danger. Indeed the crew dared not approach him as he came to disengage his most intrinsic possession from his enemy. The shadow protested as much as it could, wrapping every limb around the captain, except when it would take the opportunity to give Peter a blithe smack on the head.

The boy finally gave up his efforts and stamped his foot before sitting down in protest.

"I'm not leaving without my shadow!" He pouted, showing off moist lips under even moister eyes.

"Glad to offer you my hospitality, then, lad," Hook said, walking over to the boy and picking him back up to his feet easily enough with a grip on the hair. Peter realized all too late that he had played the game wrong, and stared at the shadow in Hook's arms with hate as the man transported them both down the stairs to his cabin.

The shadow jumped off Hook and bounded about the cabin briefly, eager to explore it, before returning as of old, jumping into Hook's arms. Hook shut the door, and let Peter's head go.

"Well, are you planning to finally let yourself cry in here or not?" he asked, eager to see the sight.

"I never cry," Peter wiped at his nose furiously, as it began to drip quite obviously with unshed tears. He found it hard not to tremble, standing in the middle of Hook's cabin, under the burning scrutiny of the forget-me-nots. He was almost positive his captor knew the rules-- that Peter Pan could not lose any game-- but something made him uneasy.

Hook sat in his chair and contemplated the boy in silence, distracted all too often by the shadow's meddlesome caresses.

"Why does your shadow seem to favor me so, Pan?" Hook said, rather amiably for one who knew he should at least keelhaul the one he was addressing to be considered a proper pirate.

"I don't know," Pan said. The captain's questions were most irritating, and he sincerely hoped he would be allowed to leave soon.

"I suspect you do, dear Peter." Hook said, motioning him to sit down on the knee unoccupied by the shadow, but the boy shook his head vigorously. The shadow cupped Hook's face in its hands and attempted to turn it away from his rival.

"A boy like you, frolicking about the woods without parents or responsibilities to speak of… It's a pastoral dream, I must admit. But now that your shadow has been detached, tell me: who will care for poor little Peter Pan?"

The shadow's mouth attacked Hook's, making frantic attempts to do something useful there. A rogue tear finally escaped out of Peter's eyes, rolling down his cheek.

"Your shadow knows your friends better than you do, I'm afraid," Hook said. Peter bowed his head and approached Hook cautiously.

"Fine. Sew it on, then." Unapologetic, point blank. Sometimes Hook wished he could be a child again.

He took out the set of curved surgeon's needles he had in his desk, and set to obeying the brat's command. There was much protest from the shadow, of course, but Peter gallantly kept his face almost completely rigid as the needle slid in and out of the soles of his feet.

Hook stood up and allowed Peter to admire his handiwork. The boy almost forgot himself, prancing about gleefully for a bit to make sure his shadow was on good behavior again. His smile faded when Hook took him up into his lap.

"Where be that shadow now?" Hook asked, stroking the boy's hair so gently that it belied the danger of the metal appendage with which he did this.

"It's punished. It won't be stupid and silly again."

Hook lit two cigars for his holder, his eyes positively cat-like as he inhaled. "And cutting off my hand? Wasn't that a stupid and silly thing to do?"

"No," Peter said bluntly, studying the result of his handiwork. It was difficult to argue with one so confident, Hook noted in amusement.

"You know…" he said, stroking the boy's back. "Now that you've torn it off once, it might start detaching itself all the time. Then who would you come to?"

"You, I guess," Peter mumbled and finally wrapped his arms around Hook's neck, though with none of the shadow's enthusiasm.

Hook's palm left Peter's bony back, slowly sliding down and around to his thigh. Peter floated off his lap immediately, his expression so grave that Hook found it hard not to laugh.

"Stop acting like my shadow!" he scolded the pirate. How annoyed he was. It was absolutely precious. "I want to go home."

Hook unlocked the window and let Peter go without ceremony. He was not willing to have the other pirates see the circumstances of their enemy's escape. They would hardly understand that a shadow cannot go on living if it destroys its counterpart.

End.