This story takes place only a few years after Wendy's first visit to
Neverland with Peter Pan, so it is considered a follow-up to the 2003 P.J.
Hogan film Peter Pan (with some references to the original Barrie novel
[1911] and his own Peter Pan prequel, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens
[1904]).
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...though I do think I could offer a competitive bid for Jason Isaacs. (heheh)
Here's Chapter II .....please leave comments! :-)
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II. KEEPING HIS WORD
With ever fiber of her tiny being, Tinker Bell had begged Peter not to return for Wendy. Such a little tantrum she threw, stomping her little feet and shaking her little fists, but it only brought Peter to laughs rather than acquiescence.
"Tink, you know I must go!" he had said between chuckles. "I told her I would return, and I shall be a gentleman and keep my word."
"You silly ass!" she spat at him before storming off into her boudoir.
Peter, having grown quite used to the fairy's outbursts, stood his ground with arms folded.
"Now, now, Tink, must you start acting so foolish again?"
A tiny ruckus could be heard within her little room before she poked her head out. "Must you MAKE me to act so foolish again?"
"What does THAT mean?"
The boudoir was quiet for a moment. And then a sad little jingle:
"Do you really fancy her so much more than I?"
It was only then that Peter felt compelled to approach her room. He peered into the tiny opening to see Tinker Bell sitting with her back to him, her head hung low between her little shoulders.
"Aw, come on, Tink. You know you're my fairy."
She only tossed him a pitiful look, her lower lip protruding in a most melodramatic fashion.
"It's just that..." Peter went on, not quite knowing the correct words to choose, "well, you are so much smaller than I and..."
No, this particular path was the wrong one to have taken, he realized quickly.
"Look, Tink!" he stated firmly. "You're my fairy and you always will be, and nothing shall ever change that, all right then?!"
Tinker Bell half-turned, a challenge creeping across her golden features. "Not even your precious Wendy?"
Peter's lips tightened and eyes narrowed. Did this impertinent little pixie mean to make him CHOOSE between her and Wendy?
"Wendy is not a fairy!" was all Peter could think to respond. "And besides, it is YOU who lives with me always, not her!"
Tinker Bell's countenance softened considerably at this notion. 'Twas quite true! But she was quick to return to her sulky state, raising her eyebrows in a manner rather like a lost puppy.
"And is this arrangement quite to your liking, Peter?"
The boy gave her a rhetorical look, though he couldn't help grinning. "Of course! Why, I don't know what I'd do without you!"
He rested his chin coyly upon the entrance to her boudoir, appealing most shamelessly to her feminine sensibilities. Fairies or not, all girls were the same, and they all craved flattery.
But Tinker Bell was a bit more wily and insistent. She lunged at his face, leaning her little arms against his nose and forcing him to go cross-eyed.
"Prove it!" she demanded.
Peter removed his face from her room and the fairy from off his nose, pinching her wings between his fingers. "'Prove it'? How should I do that?"
Tinker Bell remained dangling from his grip for a few moments, her eyes darting here and there as if the answer might be written on a nearby wall or soup bowl. Then her eyes met again with Peter's, and with a sheepish grin, she shrugged her little shoulders.
Peter smirked and released her from his hold. "Stop fooling around now, Tink. We have to go to London right away!"
And go they did, though Tinker Bell made her point silent but clear by taking her sweet time in following Peter. Occasionally, she would stop suddenly and point out something of interest to him, hoping he would become enthralled and forget all about this silly journey and that silly girl. But he was much too wise to her, and hence is how she came to be sitting so grouchily upon his shoulder atop that cloud in London at the present.
Day had officially given way to Night, yielding to its final yawn as it disappeared behind the horizon. The evening was quickly greeted with many a streetlamp and gaslight being lit on sidewalks and within homes. Peter kept his eyes firmly affixed to the lights in the Darling nursery, for once the bright yellow ones were replaced by the softer, more orange glows, he knew that the grown-ups would be out of the way and the children snug in their beds.
Peter tapped his foot and drummed his fingers against the cloud, growing more anxious with every passing second. Tinker Bell had fallen asleep long ago.
Finally, after an agonizing eternity, Peter saw the shadow of a tall figure pass by the nursery window, a lit match in hand. And one by one, the nightlights sparkled to life. Now Peter made his move, stealthily bounding from cloud to cloud, using them as both stairs and shields, inching ever nearer to the closed window.
That was quite a jarring sight in itself – the window closed? Surely, Wendy would keep it open for Peter. Wouldn't she? Perhaps she had simply forgotten. Or possibly she was waiting until she knew her parents had retired before opening it. Yes, surely, that must have been the reason.
Peter made one final and spirited leap from off a low-hanging cloud, into a tree, and atop the windowsill, all in one swift movement. Tinker Bell lazily kept hold of the vines strapped across his shoulder, as she had no real intention of flying under her own power for this portion of the journey.
The brightly colored panes of glass on the window were tricky, and Peter had to strain his eyes to make out anything specific within the room. Hopefully, Wendy would be along shortly to relieve him of his efforts.
But alas, she did not come. In truth, Peter had not really been at the window for very long, but his impatience had as little grasp upon time as any other creature of Neverland. To him, he had very well been staring in through that window for days!
Suddenly, a small wave of fear washed over Peter. What if, oh, WHAT IF those horrible things that the Captain had predicted were true? That when Peter returned for Wendy, the window would be shut because she had forgotten all about him? Such thoughts made Peter's feet sink heavily toward the ground. And his anxiousness grew critical.
Peter brought up a finger and poked the indolent pixie resting on his shoulder. She responded with the fairy equivalent of a grumble.
"Wake up, Tink!" Peter whispered harshly. "The window's shut. We are going to have to get in the old way."
She yawned. "I guess she must have forgotten about you. May we leave now?"
Now, Peter flicked Tinker Bell on her little fairy backside, flinging her into the air. She shot him the most hideous scowl she could muster, but his own stern furrowed brow overruled all. He pointed toward the window.
With a huff, Tinker Bell turned her back to him and floated up toward the latch on the window, as if doing so quite under her own predilection and no one else's. She hovered close to the frame where the latch held the window tightly in its place from inside the room, and she glided her hands up her arms as if scrunching the sleeves of a shirt she was not wearing. Her light grew more intense, and with a great heave-ho, she sent a mighty ball of fairy essence hurtling through every last particle of the window frame until it penetrated straight through toward the metal latch. She then threw her arms violently to the side, her magic wave of dust acting as a shimmering lasso as it pulled the latch inside from one end to the other, successfully unlocking the window.
Peter quickly brushed Tinker Bell aside once her task had been fulfilled, and the small muscles in his arms bulged as he pried the window open with every ounce in him until at last it gave way, and the chilly night air billowed inside the nursery.
Thankfully, the racket Peter had made at the window did not seem to have disturbed the occupants within. Even with the nightlights, Peter had difficulty making out the little figures in their beds. But he knew exactly which bed was Wendy's, and he rose into the air and blithely floated over to it.
He couldn't help grinning as he watched the figure breathing beneath the covers. She must have been fast asleep indeed, for the quilts covered her head and only the smallest patch of soft auburn hair poked out at him from below. Peter could not resist the temptation to play a little game with her, and he poked at her about where he figured her ribs would be and then quickly crouched down by the side of the bed, waiting for her to spring up so that he may surprise her.
But alas, no reaction came. Nothing but a minor stir beneath the sheets occurred. So, Peter tried again, this time with a bit more force. And a small yet indignant little groan emanated from the quilts, but still no response as Peter was expecting.
Peter straightened up, hands on his hips and brow furrowed, and regarded the lump in the bed before him. Soon his lips curled into one of his most delicious and mischievous grins, and he rose into the air and hovered over Wendy only but a couple inches from whence she lay.
"Wendy..." he whispered softly toward her covered head.
Again, no reply. Not even a breath missed. Peter brought his hands up and ever so carefully pinched the hem of the quilt between his fingers. And then, with one forceful tug, he tore the quilt away from the body it concealed.
And suddenly there he was, face to face, with another little boy staring wide-eyed up at him!
Peter gasped and flew back into the air, hitting his head on the ceiling. The boy in Wendy's bed gasped as well and sat straight upright.
"Peter!" he exclaimed in a harsh whisper so as not to wake the others in the nursery. "You're back!"
Quite perturbed indeed, Peter allowed himself to float down toward the ground just a tiny bit, so as to look at this boy who knew his name more readily.
"Who are you?" he asked warily.
"Don't you remember?" the boy said anxiously. "'Tis I, Nibs! I planned all our battles in Neverland!"
The name was familiar to Peter, but the face was not. No, it was too clean and well-groomed a face to belong to the combat-hungry ruffian whom Peter once fought alongside not so very long ago. And there was also something very unfamiliar and unsettling about the boy's voice. Something rather...mature.
As Peter continued to search his depleted memory banks for recollections of this young man, Tinker Bell zipped by and greeted him most heartily, as if never having forgotten him at all as Peter had.
"Oh, hello, Tink!" Nibs greeted quite graciously. "How have you been?"
Tinker Bell was just starting to regale Nibs with all the latest news from Neverland when Peter suddenly lunged forward.
"Wait a minute!" he blurted. "Why are you in Wendy's bed?"
"Oh..." Nibs seemed a tad off guard. "Well, Peter, this is my bed now."
"Then where is Wendy?" Peter asked impatiently, his eyes searching about the nursery.
"She has her own room," Nibs replied.
Peter seemed intrigued. "Her very own nursery?"
Nibs could not help but to chuckle at this. "No, no, Peter, her own bedroom. For, you see, she is..."
Suddenly, he stopped himself, for he knew to continue as he had been going would surely send his former captain into quite a fit.
"Uh...that is to say," he recovered, "It just got rather crowded in here is all."
Without wanting to waste another moment, Peter sprinted toward the nursery door. "Take me to her!"
As if out of a shaken habit, Nibs immediately climbed out of his bed and stood at attention before Peter. But it was not terribly long before he remembered himself...and he remembered Wendy.
"Are...are you quite sure about that?" His voice wavered a tad.
"Of course!" Peter seemed almost insulted to be questioned. "Take me to see her at once!"
Nibs knew too well that to try and argue with Peter was like trying to teach a fish to play cricket. So, he sighed and nodded.
"Alright," he said as he approached the door where Peter was standing. "But if we go, you must be very quiet so we don't wake Mother and Father."
Suddenly, Peter stiffened very rigidly, a look of both shock and disgust twisting his fine features rather grotesquely. Nibs instantly recognized what had disturbed him so.
"Erm, I mean, those rotten old grown-ups sleeping across the hall." He pinched his nose and stuck out his tongue to put a finer point on the charade, and Peter was only too happy to buy it.
Creeping softly, the two boys and the fairy tip-toed out into the hallway, past another door, and in front of one more.
"Is this it?" Peter whispered.
Nibs nodded, and Peter's hand instantly shot toward the doorknob, but Nibs was quick to block it.
"No, Peter, we must knock first. She may not be decent."
Peter looked positively scandalized. "My Wendy is every inch decent!"
Nibs sighed softly. How quickly he came to find Peter so tragically ignorant when he had been so himself quite recently.
"No, that's not what I mean." He paused a moment, then his eyes shifted toward the fairy sitting idly on Peter's shoulder. "Remember that one time, Peter, when you came home with the pearl you took from the Mermaid's Lagoon? And you were so excited to show Tink that you flung open the door to her boudoir while she was grooming?"
Peter tilted his head slightly and looked towards Tinker Bell, whose light had turned from gold to a decidedly blushed pink at this recollection. Yes, he did remember! He had thrust his face within the opening of her room to find her within, sitting before her tiny mirror, not wearing her dress. Oh, the din she had raised up! Peter could not quite ever understand how or why his seeing Tinker Bell without her dress should make her that beside herself, but so viciously affronted she was that he quickly became quite convinced that looking at a lady without her dress on was a most hideous offense indeed. And Tinker Bell was just merely a fairy...imagine the uproar that would ensue should Peter find Wendy in such a delicate condition!
With a sheepish grin, Peter nodded and allowed Nibs to rap on Wendy's door gently. There was no discernable response from within.
"She must be asleep already," Nibs whispered, watching for Peter's reaction.
"Then open the door and I shall wake her up," Peter insisted.
Nibs was hesitant, but he could not imagine what harm at all would come of obliging Peter. And so, with an ever meticulous turn of the knob, Nibs let Wendy's door glide open.
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...though I do think I could offer a competitive bid for Jason Isaacs. (heheh)
Here's Chapter II .....please leave comments! :-)
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II. KEEPING HIS WORD
With ever fiber of her tiny being, Tinker Bell had begged Peter not to return for Wendy. Such a little tantrum she threw, stomping her little feet and shaking her little fists, but it only brought Peter to laughs rather than acquiescence.
"Tink, you know I must go!" he had said between chuckles. "I told her I would return, and I shall be a gentleman and keep my word."
"You silly ass!" she spat at him before storming off into her boudoir.
Peter, having grown quite used to the fairy's outbursts, stood his ground with arms folded.
"Now, now, Tink, must you start acting so foolish again?"
A tiny ruckus could be heard within her little room before she poked her head out. "Must you MAKE me to act so foolish again?"
"What does THAT mean?"
The boudoir was quiet for a moment. And then a sad little jingle:
"Do you really fancy her so much more than I?"
It was only then that Peter felt compelled to approach her room. He peered into the tiny opening to see Tinker Bell sitting with her back to him, her head hung low between her little shoulders.
"Aw, come on, Tink. You know you're my fairy."
She only tossed him a pitiful look, her lower lip protruding in a most melodramatic fashion.
"It's just that..." Peter went on, not quite knowing the correct words to choose, "well, you are so much smaller than I and..."
No, this particular path was the wrong one to have taken, he realized quickly.
"Look, Tink!" he stated firmly. "You're my fairy and you always will be, and nothing shall ever change that, all right then?!"
Tinker Bell half-turned, a challenge creeping across her golden features. "Not even your precious Wendy?"
Peter's lips tightened and eyes narrowed. Did this impertinent little pixie mean to make him CHOOSE between her and Wendy?
"Wendy is not a fairy!" was all Peter could think to respond. "And besides, it is YOU who lives with me always, not her!"
Tinker Bell's countenance softened considerably at this notion. 'Twas quite true! But she was quick to return to her sulky state, raising her eyebrows in a manner rather like a lost puppy.
"And is this arrangement quite to your liking, Peter?"
The boy gave her a rhetorical look, though he couldn't help grinning. "Of course! Why, I don't know what I'd do without you!"
He rested his chin coyly upon the entrance to her boudoir, appealing most shamelessly to her feminine sensibilities. Fairies or not, all girls were the same, and they all craved flattery.
But Tinker Bell was a bit more wily and insistent. She lunged at his face, leaning her little arms against his nose and forcing him to go cross-eyed.
"Prove it!" she demanded.
Peter removed his face from her room and the fairy from off his nose, pinching her wings between his fingers. "'Prove it'? How should I do that?"
Tinker Bell remained dangling from his grip for a few moments, her eyes darting here and there as if the answer might be written on a nearby wall or soup bowl. Then her eyes met again with Peter's, and with a sheepish grin, she shrugged her little shoulders.
Peter smirked and released her from his hold. "Stop fooling around now, Tink. We have to go to London right away!"
And go they did, though Tinker Bell made her point silent but clear by taking her sweet time in following Peter. Occasionally, she would stop suddenly and point out something of interest to him, hoping he would become enthralled and forget all about this silly journey and that silly girl. But he was much too wise to her, and hence is how she came to be sitting so grouchily upon his shoulder atop that cloud in London at the present.
Day had officially given way to Night, yielding to its final yawn as it disappeared behind the horizon. The evening was quickly greeted with many a streetlamp and gaslight being lit on sidewalks and within homes. Peter kept his eyes firmly affixed to the lights in the Darling nursery, for once the bright yellow ones were replaced by the softer, more orange glows, he knew that the grown-ups would be out of the way and the children snug in their beds.
Peter tapped his foot and drummed his fingers against the cloud, growing more anxious with every passing second. Tinker Bell had fallen asleep long ago.
Finally, after an agonizing eternity, Peter saw the shadow of a tall figure pass by the nursery window, a lit match in hand. And one by one, the nightlights sparkled to life. Now Peter made his move, stealthily bounding from cloud to cloud, using them as both stairs and shields, inching ever nearer to the closed window.
That was quite a jarring sight in itself – the window closed? Surely, Wendy would keep it open for Peter. Wouldn't she? Perhaps she had simply forgotten. Or possibly she was waiting until she knew her parents had retired before opening it. Yes, surely, that must have been the reason.
Peter made one final and spirited leap from off a low-hanging cloud, into a tree, and atop the windowsill, all in one swift movement. Tinker Bell lazily kept hold of the vines strapped across his shoulder, as she had no real intention of flying under her own power for this portion of the journey.
The brightly colored panes of glass on the window were tricky, and Peter had to strain his eyes to make out anything specific within the room. Hopefully, Wendy would be along shortly to relieve him of his efforts.
But alas, she did not come. In truth, Peter had not really been at the window for very long, but his impatience had as little grasp upon time as any other creature of Neverland. To him, he had very well been staring in through that window for days!
Suddenly, a small wave of fear washed over Peter. What if, oh, WHAT IF those horrible things that the Captain had predicted were true? That when Peter returned for Wendy, the window would be shut because she had forgotten all about him? Such thoughts made Peter's feet sink heavily toward the ground. And his anxiousness grew critical.
Peter brought up a finger and poked the indolent pixie resting on his shoulder. She responded with the fairy equivalent of a grumble.
"Wake up, Tink!" Peter whispered harshly. "The window's shut. We are going to have to get in the old way."
She yawned. "I guess she must have forgotten about you. May we leave now?"
Now, Peter flicked Tinker Bell on her little fairy backside, flinging her into the air. She shot him the most hideous scowl she could muster, but his own stern furrowed brow overruled all. He pointed toward the window.
With a huff, Tinker Bell turned her back to him and floated up toward the latch on the window, as if doing so quite under her own predilection and no one else's. She hovered close to the frame where the latch held the window tightly in its place from inside the room, and she glided her hands up her arms as if scrunching the sleeves of a shirt she was not wearing. Her light grew more intense, and with a great heave-ho, she sent a mighty ball of fairy essence hurtling through every last particle of the window frame until it penetrated straight through toward the metal latch. She then threw her arms violently to the side, her magic wave of dust acting as a shimmering lasso as it pulled the latch inside from one end to the other, successfully unlocking the window.
Peter quickly brushed Tinker Bell aside once her task had been fulfilled, and the small muscles in his arms bulged as he pried the window open with every ounce in him until at last it gave way, and the chilly night air billowed inside the nursery.
Thankfully, the racket Peter had made at the window did not seem to have disturbed the occupants within. Even with the nightlights, Peter had difficulty making out the little figures in their beds. But he knew exactly which bed was Wendy's, and he rose into the air and blithely floated over to it.
He couldn't help grinning as he watched the figure breathing beneath the covers. She must have been fast asleep indeed, for the quilts covered her head and only the smallest patch of soft auburn hair poked out at him from below. Peter could not resist the temptation to play a little game with her, and he poked at her about where he figured her ribs would be and then quickly crouched down by the side of the bed, waiting for her to spring up so that he may surprise her.
But alas, no reaction came. Nothing but a minor stir beneath the sheets occurred. So, Peter tried again, this time with a bit more force. And a small yet indignant little groan emanated from the quilts, but still no response as Peter was expecting.
Peter straightened up, hands on his hips and brow furrowed, and regarded the lump in the bed before him. Soon his lips curled into one of his most delicious and mischievous grins, and he rose into the air and hovered over Wendy only but a couple inches from whence she lay.
"Wendy..." he whispered softly toward her covered head.
Again, no reply. Not even a breath missed. Peter brought his hands up and ever so carefully pinched the hem of the quilt between his fingers. And then, with one forceful tug, he tore the quilt away from the body it concealed.
And suddenly there he was, face to face, with another little boy staring wide-eyed up at him!
Peter gasped and flew back into the air, hitting his head on the ceiling. The boy in Wendy's bed gasped as well and sat straight upright.
"Peter!" he exclaimed in a harsh whisper so as not to wake the others in the nursery. "You're back!"
Quite perturbed indeed, Peter allowed himself to float down toward the ground just a tiny bit, so as to look at this boy who knew his name more readily.
"Who are you?" he asked warily.
"Don't you remember?" the boy said anxiously. "'Tis I, Nibs! I planned all our battles in Neverland!"
The name was familiar to Peter, but the face was not. No, it was too clean and well-groomed a face to belong to the combat-hungry ruffian whom Peter once fought alongside not so very long ago. And there was also something very unfamiliar and unsettling about the boy's voice. Something rather...mature.
As Peter continued to search his depleted memory banks for recollections of this young man, Tinker Bell zipped by and greeted him most heartily, as if never having forgotten him at all as Peter had.
"Oh, hello, Tink!" Nibs greeted quite graciously. "How have you been?"
Tinker Bell was just starting to regale Nibs with all the latest news from Neverland when Peter suddenly lunged forward.
"Wait a minute!" he blurted. "Why are you in Wendy's bed?"
"Oh..." Nibs seemed a tad off guard. "Well, Peter, this is my bed now."
"Then where is Wendy?" Peter asked impatiently, his eyes searching about the nursery.
"She has her own room," Nibs replied.
Peter seemed intrigued. "Her very own nursery?"
Nibs could not help but to chuckle at this. "No, no, Peter, her own bedroom. For, you see, she is..."
Suddenly, he stopped himself, for he knew to continue as he had been going would surely send his former captain into quite a fit.
"Uh...that is to say," he recovered, "It just got rather crowded in here is all."
Without wanting to waste another moment, Peter sprinted toward the nursery door. "Take me to her!"
As if out of a shaken habit, Nibs immediately climbed out of his bed and stood at attention before Peter. But it was not terribly long before he remembered himself...and he remembered Wendy.
"Are...are you quite sure about that?" His voice wavered a tad.
"Of course!" Peter seemed almost insulted to be questioned. "Take me to see her at once!"
Nibs knew too well that to try and argue with Peter was like trying to teach a fish to play cricket. So, he sighed and nodded.
"Alright," he said as he approached the door where Peter was standing. "But if we go, you must be very quiet so we don't wake Mother and Father."
Suddenly, Peter stiffened very rigidly, a look of both shock and disgust twisting his fine features rather grotesquely. Nibs instantly recognized what had disturbed him so.
"Erm, I mean, those rotten old grown-ups sleeping across the hall." He pinched his nose and stuck out his tongue to put a finer point on the charade, and Peter was only too happy to buy it.
Creeping softly, the two boys and the fairy tip-toed out into the hallway, past another door, and in front of one more.
"Is this it?" Peter whispered.
Nibs nodded, and Peter's hand instantly shot toward the doorknob, but Nibs was quick to block it.
"No, Peter, we must knock first. She may not be decent."
Peter looked positively scandalized. "My Wendy is every inch decent!"
Nibs sighed softly. How quickly he came to find Peter so tragically ignorant when he had been so himself quite recently.
"No, that's not what I mean." He paused a moment, then his eyes shifted toward the fairy sitting idly on Peter's shoulder. "Remember that one time, Peter, when you came home with the pearl you took from the Mermaid's Lagoon? And you were so excited to show Tink that you flung open the door to her boudoir while she was grooming?"
Peter tilted his head slightly and looked towards Tinker Bell, whose light had turned from gold to a decidedly blushed pink at this recollection. Yes, he did remember! He had thrust his face within the opening of her room to find her within, sitting before her tiny mirror, not wearing her dress. Oh, the din she had raised up! Peter could not quite ever understand how or why his seeing Tinker Bell without her dress should make her that beside herself, but so viciously affronted she was that he quickly became quite convinced that looking at a lady without her dress on was a most hideous offense indeed. And Tinker Bell was just merely a fairy...imagine the uproar that would ensue should Peter find Wendy in such a delicate condition!
With a sheepish grin, Peter nodded and allowed Nibs to rap on Wendy's door gently. There was no discernable response from within.
"She must be asleep already," Nibs whispered, watching for Peter's reaction.
"Then open the door and I shall wake her up," Peter insisted.
Nibs was hesitant, but he could not imagine what harm at all would come of obliging Peter. And so, with an ever meticulous turn of the knob, Nibs let Wendy's door glide open.