Author's Note: Hello readers. Merci beaucoup for all the reviews! I cannot believe there are over 200 of them! Thanks especially to Pippinfan25, for the reviews. They were quite interesting. I know you are angry that Peter cut off his hair, but use your imagination! Nymoue, are you French? Je parle un peu francais.
Wendy may have appeared spineless these last couple of chapters, but she will show a different side very soon. There is some teenage romance in this…it will be awkward of course. I hope you enjoy this all-new chapter, which is a bit long, but very good!
Chapter 18: A Wicked Temptation
Peter cannot believe his eyes when he walks into the Darling house. The first things he sees are the Lost Boys, hardly looking like themselves at all. His mouth drops open as he stares at how grown up they have become these past few years. There is a shocked silence, which is promptly broken by Nibs' scream of joy. The boys rush to Peter, surrounding him like bees to a flower. They pull him down to their level, which is not so far. Pretty soon, they will be as tall as Peter. They observe him oddly, trying to figure out if it is really he.
"Peter, it's Peter Pan, lads!" Nibs explains in a hushed whisper, so the adults will not hear.
"But it can't be!" one of the Twins shoots back. "He doesn't look like Peter!"
"Peter, how can it be you? You said yourself you'd never grow up!" Slightly asks in disbelief. The boys are examining Peter's face; Mary clears her throat.
"Boys, let Mr. Eddington be," she commands in a motherly tone. Peter and the rest of the children get up and dust off their suits.
"Peter, how do you know the Darlings?" Patricia interrogates, raising her eyebrow. What should Peter tell her? He knew them from Neverland? He does not know what to say. He runs his hand through his hair, which is shorter and darker than the original way he had it. It looks browner, with faint golden streaks high-lighting it.
"Um…we met in…" Peter begins.
"K-Kensington Gardens!" Tootles finishes for him, smiling broadly. His brothers chuckle behind them. In a way, it is the truth. In the park, the boys fell from their prams and were taken by Peter to Neverland. Peter nods in agreement and turns to a young man one year younger than Wendy. He looks familiar, but Peter cannot fathom who he is.
"Good evening, Mr. Eddington," John pipes, shaking Peter's hand in his.
"Ah…who are you?" He honestly does not remember him.
"I'm John," the teenager sighs.
"John? Oh, John! It's nice to see you again!" Peter laughs. His eyes wander over to Wendy, who is standing a few feet away from him. She smiles at him, her face brightening happily. Peter's heart begins to race, as does hers.
"You already know our daughter, Wendy," George says in the background. Peter does not hear him. His focus is on Wendy and only Wendy. He walks up to her and takes her hand in his. Her palms are sweaty and he smirks playfully. He brings her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly.
"Hello, Wendy."
"Hello Peter," she whispers, her voice shaking. Peter nearly embraces her, but he stops himself. It would be very rude if he were to do that in front of their parents. "Shall I introduce you to the other guests?"
"I should like that very much," he responds in an alluring voice. Wendy giggles and her hand flutters over her mouth.
"Peter! Peter!" Michael whispers, pulling Peter's arm. "Crow for us and then the boys will believe you for sure!"
"Yes, crow, Peter!" Curly and Nibs beg together. Peter shakes his head and a look of pure disappointment crosses their faces.
"Not now, boys. I'll do it later," Peter shushes. He turns back to Wendy, who beckons to him to follow. With a slight swish of her dress, she glides into the parlor behind her parents.
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Oh, if only he were kissing my lips instead of my hand! Wendy thinks in vain as Peter follows her to her other suitors. She became dizzy when he came up to her in the hallway. She almost fainted right then and there on the floor, and that would not be the greatest situation to be in. It is just that he looks ever so attractive and she cannot quell the butterflies in her stomach. Something dwells in him, something wild that he will never lose. She can see it behind his eyes; in that impish grin he sports so well.
Everyone in the parlor stands up as a sign of respect to the Eddingtons. Wendy finds it odd that they cannot treat them as their own, but as a higher rank, like royalty. Peter looks uncomfortable when they do this. He shakes their hands and Wendy sees Philip stand up with his aging mother.
"Peter, this is Philip Winston and his mother, Mrs. Gertrude Winston." Peter nods to Mrs. Winston and shakes Philip's hand. They stare daggers at each other; clearly, they remember each other from the ball. Words are not exchanged between the two, which worries Wendy. Hopefully they will not start fighting and she will not have to stop them. Peter ends the handshake and the tension between them ceases to exist.
"Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served!" Aunt Millicent announces from the dining room. Philip escorts his mother to the table and Peter offers to accompany Wendy.
"Of course, Mr. Eddington," she accepts, fighting the desire to reach up and kiss him.
"Maybe, after dinner, I could see the nursery," Peter suggests innocently.
"The nursery?" Wendy repeats and looks at Aunt Millicent. If she caught Wendy taking a boy upstairs, well, she would be appalled. She could see why.
"I understand why we couldn't go," Peter answers, indicating the horrid woman ushering guests to their seats. "I guess we'll just have to sneak up then." O, that devious young man! Wendy becomes red in the face and cannot answer him. Aunt Millicent breaks them up, sending Peter down to the end of the table where the Lost Boys eagerly wait for him. Wendy is seated between Aunt Millicent and Philip. When will this torture end? she asks herself.
To the right of Peter is Wendy's much nicer aunt, Lillian. To the left is Slightly. All throughout dinner, Lillian speaks to him, asking him about his life and what it is like to be an Eddington. Peter says there is nothing different about being an Eddington – his family just has a good amount of money to sustain themselves. Slightly keeps tapping Peter's shoulder, questioning him about Neverland.
"I don't remember much about it," Peter responds and peers down the table at Wendy. Philip's head is turned towards her and she nods from time to time. Peter feels a pang of jealousy when he notices this.
Wendy cannot stand Philip for much longer. She picks at her food and glances at him from the corner of her eye. Everyone is talking around her; it is beginning to sound like endless humming. She returns Peter's gaze and smiles faintly. Perhaps he was only teasing me about the nursery, she thinks.
"Wendy, are you feeling well?" Philip interrogates.
"Yes, I - I was just thinking." Wendy smoothes out the napkin folded on her lap and continues to eat. Dinner is concluded soon after and Wendy helps clear the table. She brings all the dishes into the kitchen, where all the ladies are gossiping and laughing. Mary sees her daughter and takes the plates from her.
"Why don't you go outside to the parlor? I am sure all the young men will be wondering where you've gone off to," Mary suggests, kissing her daughter's forehead.
"You do not need my assistance?"
"No, dear. Go and enjoy yourself." Wendy backs away, twisting a single curl around her finger. She enters into the vestibule, which is completely empty. George is trying to make 'small talk' with Henry Eddington and Vincent Moray. The other men are lounging around, smoking cigars and what not. The boys, including John, and Lillian's children, are sitting around Peter with open ears. Nana is watching him from underneath one of the chairs. She has yet to avenge him for what he did four years before.
John looks up and sees Wendy in the parlor doorway. She beckons to him, and he goes to her. "What is it?" he asks as his sister pulls him into the hallway.
"Peter mentioned that he wanted to see the nursery."
"Yes?" John raises his eyebrows when Wendy begins to blush.
"I am going to go upstairs. Tell Peter to follow after I've gone up. No one will notice him."
"Wendy, that is impossible. Someone is bound to spot Peter."
"If that is the case, hmm…tell him, if anyone is to question him, that he is going to the lavatory." John smirks, rubbing his forehead. Wendy clutches the young man's shoulder, her eyes pleading for approval. "Please inform him of this."
"I do not understand why I am going through with this," he mutters.
"You are a positively wonderful brother, John," she responds, kissing his cheek happily. John leaves and strides back into the parlor. Wendy watches Peter lean over to listen what John has to say. John signals to the door and Peter raises his eyes to the young woman. She nods at him and he smiles, making her weak at the knees.
Wendy turns around and hurries up the stairs. She feels like a fairytale princess whose prince is coming to rescue her. Wendy waits at the top, praying that Aunt Millicent will not stop Peter. A refreshing breeze comes in from the small window behind her, calming her senses, making her believe that everything is going to be perfect.
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He walks out of the living room; glancing back from time to time to see if anyone is looking at him. All the men seem to be preoccupied with their smoking. Peter hears Mr. Darling's nervous laughing as he speaks to his father. The coast is clear; no one is around. Peter holds his breath as he ascends the stairs, which creak ever so slightly.
Wendy is at the top, looking relaxed. Peter begins to walk a little faster when someone clears their throat from behind. Wendy gasps and disappears into the shadows of the opposite wall. Peter wishes he had gotten there in time. He spins around to see Mr. Darling standing below him, a wary look plastered on his face.
"May I ask what you are doing, Mr. Eddington?" he interrogates coldly.
"I was…going to use the lavatory!" Peter blurts in a childish manner. George looks taken aback by this response and straightens out his suit.
"There is a perfectly good lavatory down here. Besides, you do not know your way around the house."
True. Peter shifts his weight to his left side and opens his mouth to speak. He avoids Mr. Darling's glare. "Well, I sort of, I mean I…" I wanted to look upon the nursery, Mr. Darling, because it reminds me of my past and gives me hope of a future with your daughter! "Never mind," Peter whispers, defeated. He climbs back down the stairs as Mr. Darling looks on victoriously. He has always been the sort of man to revel in small triumphs, because they do not come upon him often.
"The restroom is to the left of the kitchen." Peter has to go find it now, since he gave the impression that he really had to use the lavatory. He trudges through the kitchen door, and is scared out of his wits when he sees all the women clucking like hens in a barnyard. They are talking about things that Peter does not really want to hear at the moment. If he could, he would fly right out that kitchen window and never return again. He hurries out of the kitchen while there is still time, thanking his lucky stars that he was not seen. He will have to find another way of getting upstairs.
Peter ambles back into the congested living room, stepping over the Lost Boys resting on the floor. "I reckon you didn't get very far," Curly observes.
"No," Peter retorts, dropping onto the settee. "I shall find another way, though, I always do." As one can see, Peter has not changed too much since his childhood years. Soon, he is deep in thought, and the boys let him ponder a new idea. He snaps his fingers, and gathers the children around him.
"Here's what I've thought of; you could form a circle around me, concealing me from everyone else. We could all go upstairs in that circle, and I could escape to the nursery with Wendy."
"Oh, brilliant idea, Peter! Absolutely brilliant!" Slightly chatters. Lillian's children are trying to hear the conversation; the Twins manage to keep them from listening.
"I'm going to tell Mummy how rude you are being to us!" Madeleine, the eldest of Lillian's offspring, proclaims. She rises to her feet, her arms crossed in front of her.
"No!" the boys yell, dragging her back to her sitting position.
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Now, before the story progresses, I feel it is necessary to introduce the reader to Lillian and Frederick's children. They will be significant parts in the next chapter. One has already met Madeleine, a stickler for the rules, as some may call her. She is twelve years old, with a fierce temper much like her father's. She wants everything her way or no way at all. With perfect blonde hair and solemn hazel eyes, Madeleine is the strictest of the three.
Next come the twins, the fraternal twins to be exact. They are both nine years old and are as different as night and day. Albert has darkish blonde hair and clear green eyes that always seem to be searching for something. He is an inquisitive child who has dreamt of Neverland many a time. He is similar to Lillian in that his spirit is carefree and he does not care what anybody thinks about him.
Eliza is Albert's twin sister. Everything about her is dark. With chocolate colored hair and eyes, she looks like her aunt Mary. She keeps to herself most of the time, observing rather than participating in. The only thing that connects these two children is Neverland. They visit this magical place in their dreams every night and they do not have to worry about growing up…Since one knows each child so well, let us return to the story.
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After discussing their plan of action, John, Michael, and the Lost Boys bunch together in a circle. They walk out nonchalantly, trying to keep from laughing. One moment, Peter is standing with them, the next he is gone. Some of the men notice this strange behavior, but they do not make any point of questioning them. Slightly begins to talk about how ghastly school is and the others join in. They move to the stairs and start climbing slowly, maintaining the spherical shape. John marches in front of them, thinking about the consequences of this action. Nana trots behind the group, making sure no one will follow.
"Children, where are you going?" a woman's voice calls from the landing. Peter, who has been hiding in the middle of the circle, crouches to the stairs, his heart pounding against his chest.
"John forgot something upstairs. We are going to fetch it, Aunt Millicent," Curly answers.
"All of you?" she asks.
"Yes, for…moral support!" Tootles reassures her.
"Will you be staying up there?" she continues with a tinge of hope. To Millicent, it would be ever so grand if they were to stay up in the nursery and not wreak havoc. In her opinion, children should be seen and not heard. "Why don't you take your cousins with you? I think they would like to see the nursery."
"We will not be staying upstairs," John replies, a sigh of regret coming from Millicent's mouth. Nibs nudges Peter to begin walking again. Their aunt drums her fingers against the stair railing, eyeing them suspiciously before retiring to the kitchen again. Everyone relaxes and they begin to move a little faster.
"Why are you up here?" a hushed voice asks. Peter gets up and looks over the numerous heads covering him. He realizes that they are on the second floor and Wendy is standing right in front of them.
"Special delivery, Miss Darling!" the boys shout in unison and Peter finds himself being shoved forward. He stumbles out of the circle, regaining his composure and grinning proudly.
"Peter!" Wendy yelps when she sees him emerge from the crowd. "How did you get up here? I thought my father caught you."
"It was one of my bright ideas," Peter shrugs, as Wendy blushes. "Shall we go to the nursery now?" Wendy nods, feeling as if she is on top of the world. She takes his hand in his and starts leading him around the corner. Nana is determined to not let Peter out of her sight and she begins to follow them. Michael tugs on the aging dog's collar and she sits back on the floor.
"They must have their alone time together," John whispers.
"What's that?" Michael mutters back.
"You'll understand when you're older." The boys, including Nana, run back downstairs, laughing to themselves. When Millicent questions them yet again, they say they forgot what they were looking for and it did not have any importance whatsoever.
"I remember chasing my shadow out here," Peter reminisces, gazing at the dimly lit walls. He turns to his side and sees his shadow, still intact. Wendy turns to him, wanting to know more. "That stupid thing, always trying to get away from me. It pulled me across the floor and your aunt came up. I hid on the ceiling until it was safe."
"Then, I discovered you, crying in the nursery," Wendy finishes, "and I sewed your shadow on for you."
"I wasn't crying. I had something in my eye." Peter walks past her, denying the past events. Wendy stops short and folds her hands in front of her. "Well, maybe I was crying a little…not a lot…"
"Yes, not a lot. It is nothing to be ashamed of."
"I suppose," Peter sighs and he hears Wendy's sweet laugh echoing in his ears. She holds his hand again, pulling him to an open door. It is all coming back to him… Wendy does not have to say the room at which they have arrived. He walks in, examining the nursery in its entirety. It seems crowded than last time, probably because of the extra beds situated against the walls.
"Do you remember this?" Wendy says from the doorway. Tears are forming in her blue eyes when she, too, recalls what used to be.
"Yes, I do, I remember everything! Your bed used to be right here, opposite the window," Peter responds excitedly. "Things are missing, though. The nursery does not look like the nursery." Wendy sighs, joining him in the center of the room.
"Everyone is growing up, Peter. The boys are not as young as they used to be. The toys have been thrown out, it is becoming an adult's room if anything." Peter's eyes linger too long on the barred window.
Something tugs at his heart, bringing his mood lower and lower. It is impossible to wrench those bars off the window. He remembers trying to get in, seeing that everything was shielded from him. He cannot stop the feeling of worry from consuming his heart, pulling him farther and farther into the past. Peter brushes away a salty drop of water from his cheek and broods on that saddening memory.
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Wendy bites her lip, watching Peter cautiously. She wants to comfort him, to kiss him, to tell him that everything will be all right. She approaches Peter from behind, thinking of what she will say.
"My parents barred the window after you visited one night. They believed it was a burglar trying to get in," Wendy explains softly. "I did not believe it was so. I never wanted the bars there because I feared you would not come back."
"I always came back," Peter responds, turning around to face her.
"I did not know of it then. I thought you forgot about me," Wendy murmurs as she watches a frown form on Peter's mouth. Why can't he accept the fact that she was growing up and started to forget about him?
"I didn't forget," Peter persists. He waits for her to respond, but she does not. Wendy begins to walk toward him, but he moves away, looking frantically for something to keep his mind off her. Wendy does not understand why he is acting this way.
He is still afraid of her, afraid of love.
Peter picks up a deteriorating toy sword, remembering how well he could fight with a real one. He hesitates for a second, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Remember when we used to play make-believe in Neverland? I was 'Father' and you were 'Mother'. We had such fun back then."
"Yes, we did," she responds sadly.
"We pretended we were in love, too," Peter adds. In love…Wendy could not hide her feelings from Peter forever. She tried telling him during their dance in Neverland's forest, but ended up pushing him farther away from her. He never told her how he truly felt because he did not understand these new emotions.
"Don't you see Peter?" Wendy is not backing down. It is either now or never. "I am not pretending anymore." She presses her lips together tightly, fighting the urge to cry. Peter drops the sword on the floor when she says this. He looks up at her, but does not approach her like she wants him too. Peter massages the back of his neck, finding his mouth quite dry. "I suppose you are still pretending," Wendy whispers, all hope fading away.
"No!" Peter shouts, surprising the teenager standing across the room. She cringes at this outburst and nearly jumps onto John's bed. "I am not pretending either."
"Then why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I don't know. I guess I was scared that you wouldn't accept me or something like that," Peter states, avoiding Wendy's eyes. He never wanted to admit that he was scared, but he is doing it right this very moment.
"You need not be afraid of me, Peter." Wendy touches his arm gingerly and they watch each other for a while. His blue-green eyes seem to be getting closer and closer to her as she loses herself in his gaze. She cannot follow the beat of her heart for it is going too fast. Her grasp on Peter's arm tightens as she closes her eyes dreamily and feels his breath on her lips. What a wicked temptation! Peter's lips brush against hers for one quick second before she feels his warmth no longer. She opens her eyes wide, looking around in confusion. Peter is five feet away from her, his face flushed pink. Wendy turns to the door and sees her brothers and cousins standing in the doorway.
"Oh dear," Wendy speaks softly, putting her hand to her cheek.
"Sorry, were we interrupting something?" Slightly peeps from the back of the crowd. The good feeling Wendy has is gone almost instantaneously.
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Author's Note: Finally, some Peter/Wendy romance! Are you happy? I am truly sorry for not updating sooner. I meant for this chapter to be longer, but by then you would probably be sleeping on the keyboard. (I know I would have!) I am doing volunteer work and I am not on the computer a lot. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up sooner than expected. Thanks for all your feedback; I love reading all the comments. All of you reviewers are wonderful! I will write more soon, and the next chapter will have a surprise or two! Until next time, au revoir!