Author's Note: Yes, I am still alive! I am sorry it took me so long to update. I started writing this chapter at least three times, only to delete the whole thing because it didn't work out. I have never had this type of writer's block before, so to say that it was terribly annoying would be a huge understatement. I am not sure when I will have chapter six done, it all depends on how long it takes me to update "A Bit of Salve and Soul Bonding."

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and been on my case for not updating sooner (you all know who you are ;-) ): blondie3862, BendyStraw, kitkat47, Zeldy, kasmira36, Teetere74.8, Anonymous5, elyssalyn, dreamfairy06, prieto, Copperline Kitty, Lizzie Presscott, DarkKestralSilkeQueen, Olwyen, hefalump, Yugi-is-my-one-and-only, Dagorwen of Ithilien, and ezza

For those of you who have begged for longer chapters, enjoy! On Microsoft Word this chapter was as long as the first three chapters put together! Also, there is a lot of Peter here as well.

P.S. Remember to send feedback!

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Chapter Four: Hunting for Dinner and Other Things

When Wendy returned to the house under the ground several hours later – with a skip in her step and a pleasant smile gracing her face – she was surprised to discover Peter sitting in his chair, playing on his pipes before the roaring fire. Slowly Wendy approached the boy, standing behind him, and rested one of her hands on the back of his chair. The music escaped Peter's pipes, leaping about the house, rushing in circles. Wendy listened, spellbound. The music was playful yet also mournful, it seemed to her. She felt like crying, laughing, dancing, and sitting quietly all at the same time. Slowly, the music died away, and Wendy recalled where she was.

"Peter, what are you doing here? You usually stay out with the boys until supper time," Wendy said softly, reluctant to break the peaceful, seemingly sacred silence.

Peter jumped, startled. He tilted his head back, looked up into Wendy's face, and flashed her a cocky smile, shrugging his shoulders.

"I was bored," he replied, then turned away and put his pipes away.

Bored? Wendy was shocked. Peter was never bored. Her eyebrows rose. "Where are the boys?" she asked as she moved to the area of the house where she did the cooking.

"I don't know."

A light frown of concern settled on the girl's face at Peter's answer. Of course the boys had gone off adventuring by themselves many times before, but they were Wendy's children and, like every mother, she could not help but worry a little about them, hoping they would not fall into any trouble.

"What did you do today?" she asked, crouching down and rummaging through the food stored on several shelves, seeing what she had to cook, her frown deepening.

Peter talked to her back, "I visited the redskins."

Wendy halted for a moment, staring blankly at her pile of pans stacked next to the shelves.

Visited the redskins, visited Tiger Lily.

"Oh," Wendy said, though rather coolly, and resumed her work stiffly.

"I ate with the Chief and Tiger Lily," Peter added. "And she said she could make me an Indian outfit!" Delight rang in his voice. "Isn't she sweet?"

"I suppose you won't be hungry for supper then!" Wendy huffed, purposely ignoring the question. Angrily she blinked back tears gathering in her eyes. She knew she was acting childishly, but she couldn't help it. She never looked favorably on Peter's special friendship with Tiger Lily, but she could never put words to her feelings; besides, it was not her place. She accepted the friendship as best she could. But this revealing information, along with the nagging thoughts that had plagued her regarding last night…she didn't know what to do or think!

She almost yelped when she felt Peter place a hand on her shoulder.

"But I do want supper, Wendy. You're a wonderful cook," Peter said softly, uncertainly. Confusion clouded his hazel eyes.

Wendy was silent, unmoved by this truthful flattery. Instead, she gazed in despair at the bread, fruits, and vegetables. Sighing, she rose to her feet, Peter's hand falling away from her shoulder. In the next moment, however, she was spun around and brought face to face with Peter. She could only gape at him wordlessly.

"What's the matter, Wendy?" he asked, frowning at her flushed face and teary eyes.

Wendy dropped her gaze to her feet.

"Is it the boys – have they done something wicked?" Peter demanded, his eyes flashing suddenly.

Wendy shook her head slowly, blushing.

"Did something happen while you were out today?"

Again Wendy's head swayed back and forth.

"Wendy…," there was a warning edge in his voice as he said her name, knowing she was keeping something from him. But she stubbornly kept her mouth shut.

Peter watched her for several silent seconds, the expression on his face unreadable. Then his face cleared, except for a flicker of possible unease in his eyes.

"Is…is it…have I done something wicked?"

"What…no!" Wendy denied quickly, finally turning her eyes – wide and filled with guilt – to Peter.

"Something's upset you," Peter stated determinedly.

"I…," Wendy desperately racked her mind for an answer; her eyes lighted on the food sitting on the shelves and she remembered. "I don't have anything to serve with the stew I'm going to make tonight. The boys will want something besides that and bread," Wendy explained her dilemma, gesturing to the shelves.

Peter followed Wendy and knelt down beside her as she rambled on about her problem, animating with her hands. Peter looked over the supply of food with seeming interest. He did not know the first thing when it came to cooking. But he did not like seeing Wendy so unhappy, and he decided something had to be done.

"What would you want to serve with the stew?" he interrupted her.

Wendy was quiet for a moment. Her face then lighted with dawning hope and anticipation. "Rabbit and crab," she answered.

Peter looked at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Wendy had prepared rabbit in the past, but never had she used crab in any of her cooking before. Nodding his head firmly, he got to his feet and pulled Wendy up with him.

"Well, then, we shall go and get some rabbit and crab!" he announced.

Wendy was happily stunned but quickly gathered up her dagger and a sack and exited the house through her tree. Peter had beaten her and was excitedly waiting for her. Waiting with him was her pet wolf who greeted her cheerfully. Her spirits immensely lifted, Wendy laughed and hugged her furry friend. Peter took the wolf aside and had a few quiet words with her. Bowing her head gracefully, the wolf then licked her mistress's hand and bounded off. Wendy looked questioningly, but Peter either did not notice or chose to ignore her look. Instead, after taking her by the hand, he eagerly led her through the forest.

Soon they reached the Mermaids' Lagoon. Wendy stayed on the shore while Peter flew out to Marooners' Rock. Sitting himself down, he brought forth his pipes and begun to play. The music was low and mysterious, stretching its hands over the water; so quiet was the lagoon that Wendy could clearly hear Peter's playing. He had not sat there long on the rock when several of the mermaids swam to the surface.

In the waning dusk, evening shadows cast on the fair mermaids' faces caused their beauty to have a mysterious – even a bit sinister – quality than they did in the afternoon sunshine, when they would laugh and sing while playing with the bubbles. Shuddering slightly, Wendy was grateful she was not having an audience with them right then.

"Peter Pan!" the mermaids greeted the boy and asked what he was doing there.

"I am in need of some crab," Peter answered, bowing politely to the mermaids.

They murmured quietly among themselves for a moment and then dived underneath the surface.

Watching from the shore the mermaids disappear, Wendy wondered if perhaps the mermaids were not going to give Peter any crab. But he obviously did not share her uncertainty, for he sat back down on the rock and lazily played upon his pipes once more.

The mermaids returned several minutes later. Two of them held a silver net between them. Peter got back to his feet. He reached down for the net, but the mermaids pulled it back out of his reach.

"What will you give us for the crab?" one mermaid asked.

Peter shrugged. "What do you want me to give you?" he asked them.

The mermaids whispered among themselves again. "You shall have the crab if you will give each of us a thimble and we may give you one," one mermaid spoke for herself and her fellow sisters.

Peter eagerly nodded, not at all troubled by this condition as other boys who might find themselves in a similar situation would be. Unembarrassed, he gave each fine girl a thimble on her wet, cool cheek, and he received their thimbles on his own cheek. When this had been completed, the two mermaids with the silver net handed it over to the boy. He took it with one hand, then, leaning down quickly before they realized what was happening, he snatched a comb covered in tiny shells and pearls from one of the mermaids' heads. They cried in outrage. But Peter was already in the air, laughing at them and, crowing loudly, flew to where Wendy was waiting.

Reaching her, he was still chuckling. His face glowed with excitement, and his eyes looked a bit dazed.

Maybe it is from receiving so many kisses from such pretty mermaids. Wendy did not like this unexpected thought, but knew it was possibly true. She had watched the display with deep disapproval. In London, a mother would have been completely scandalized if her son did such a thing of exchanging kisses with eight girls. But this was not London, and Peter was not Wendy's child.

Peter crowed a final time, pulling Wendy from her thoughts. Grinning, he held up triumphantly the silver net which was full of crabs. Grandly he presented the comb to Wendy, who accepted it slowly. Though she was not certain it was right to steal the comb, she could not help but admire it and give Peter a pleased smile before examining it again.

"Put it in your hair," Peter said when Wendy continued to simply hold the comb in her hands.

She did so, a bit uncertainly since she had no mirror to see what it looked like. But Peter nodded in approval after staring at her for a long moment.

"Come, we should head back," he said and started away from the lagoon, followed closely by Wendy.

"But…what about getting some rabbit?" Wendy asked hesitantly.

Peter just gave her a cocky smile over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling at her, as though he knew some pleasant secret. In a few minutes they reached the clump of trees that served as each individual child's entrance to the house under the ground. Before they could go to their respective tree, Wendy's wolf bounded up to them, her tail wagging wildly. And proudly she held three young rabbits in her mouth. She laid them at Peter's and Wendy's feet with reverence.

Amazed and filled with joy at these events, Wendy fell to her knees and embraced her wolf affectionately.

"Oh, thank you!" the girl breathed into the warm gray fur. "You dear! Now I have rabbit for tonight. Thank you."

The wolf licked her face lovingly before disappearing into the shadows. As Wendy gathered the rabbits, she heard Peter murmur to himself, "Of course I did nothing." Realizing she had, in fact, not thanked him for getting the crab, she turned to him and smiled brightly at him.

"Thank you very much, Peter, for getting the crab," she thanked him. Impulsively, she quickly laid a kiss on his cheek and, suddenly realizing that was the ninth kiss he had gotten this evening, she turned away quickly, blushing. But she did not have time to linger on those things; night was fast approaching, and the meal still had to be made.

When she came into the house under the ground, she was greeted by eight happy boys who, in turn, rushed to Peter when he stepped out of his tree.

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The boys had fallen asleep a while ago, and Tinker Bell herself had retired for the night. Only Peter and Wendy remained awake in the silent house. Seated in her rocker before the fire, Wendy was starting to make for herself a dress from old, unused, scraps of cloth. Her nightgown was not as snowy white as it had been, and it was ripped in some places. Yes, soon she would be in need of another dress.

She was thankful for the quietness and stillness. She had several times had to banish Peter and the boys from her "kitchen," for they had been most curious in knowing what she would use the crab for; she had cooked the crab by itself, seasoning it. Everyone had loved it and pleaded for her to make it again. She had been relieved it had come off so well, for it was a new recipe.

As she bent over her sewing, she sneaked fugitive glances at Peter who sat on the floor next to her rocker. He had simply gazed at the fire in silence for over an hour. Wendy had followed his lead. Her heart pounded in nervous excitement, for she did not know what to expect tonight. She accidentally pricked her finger with the needle and sucked on the wounded finger for a moment.

Glancing at Peter, she watched as his head nodded slightly before he abruptly straightened, his eyes widening as he fought off the sleepiness. An amused smile touched the corners of Wendy's mouth.

"Peter." Pausing in her work, she shook his shoulder gently. He looked at her in surprise. "Why don't you go to bed? It is late," she said. "Are you tired?"

Shaking his head in denial, Peter brought up a hand to cover a huge yawn. He looked at her sheepishly as she laughed quietly.

"Go on," she urged.

Climbing a bit groggily to his feet, Peter looked at Wendy, as though trying to decide if he wanted to say something. Wendy waited patiently. He opened his mouth a few times only to close it again.

"Wendy…," he trailed off, and shook his head. "Wendy," he started again, "the boys are almost finished building their tree house."

"Are they?" Wendy's eyes lighted up.

Peter nodded. "Perhaps you would like to come see it…"

"I have not seen it since they started it. I would love to see how they are doing on it," Wendy exclaimed.

A half smile settled on Peter's face as he nodded. Bending down, he turned his cheek towards her, imploring for a goodnight kiss. Wendy obliged.

"Goodnight, Wendy," Peter said.

"Goodnight, Peter," she replied. She was not sure if she felt relieved or disappointed when Peter walked away to his bed without another word.

With a sigh she started up on her work again. Tonight no stars watched her.