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 natural 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.
Here be Chapter III .....more comments please! :-)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
III. SWEET DREAMS AND HARSH TRUTHS
Wendy Darling never forgot.
So long as there were peaceful nights and a pillow on which she could rest her head, the memories of her wonderful voyage to Neverland were never far from her reveries. And neither, too, was that remarkable young boy.
Few things had changed, really, as far as Wendy was concerned. Oh, indeed, she had blossomed considerably in the past few years, and her every move was carefully watched and scrutinized by her mentor, Aunt Millicent. Try as the adults in her life might to wash Wendy clean of all the childish inclinations from her heart, they had no claim whatever on what she saw and experienced in her dreams. For, in Neverland, one is free to be whomever or whatever they wish, if only for a night.
And Wendy's dreams had turned to the magical island even more intensely as of late. She was nearly eighteen now, and her parents had begun working most vigorously to choose a proper husband for their daughter.
*Husband*. Just the word itself made Wendy's stomach groan. How could she even think about being married and dutifully bound to some man for the remainder of her life when she still felt she had so much more youth in her to expend? And yet, this was precisely for what she was being groomed. Many evenings, she wished she could just stop time altogether; that she could bid her body stop growing every which way, so that she might be able luxuriate in her childhood for just a little while longer. At twelve, whence returning from her adventures in Neverland, she had thought she was ready to grow up. But now that this threshold lay before her, in plain view, she questioned whether she truly was prepared to cross it.
Hence, she turned inevitably to Neverland, and to Peter Pan, to draw her thoughts and worries from the drudgery of her everyday mortal life. And it is here that we may be able to discern the one clue of Wendy's impending womanhood – and that is, in her recent attitude toward Peter himself.
To be sure, she was every bit as in love with him as the very first time she caught him hovering over her bed in the middle of the night. And her affection had not waned in the least in the years since she last saw him dart off from her window and into the starry sky. But she was older now, thus a more practical and maternal adoration for the boy had begun to usurp her former feelings of girlish "puppy-love." No more did she long for him to take her in his arms for a moonlit dance among the fairies, gazing into her eyes in such a manner that assured her all was perfect with the world. Now she would rather take him in her arms, and hold him tightly whilst he slept to protect him from the troublesome dreams that agitated his slumber. It was this transition in her heart that made her ever glad she had given to him her Hidden Kiss when the opportunity presented itself years before. When they were both still so young and innocent.
Peter had said he would come back. He had not specified when, and Wendy could hardly expect that of him. But she could see in his eyes that he meant it. He would return to hear all the wonderful tales she would tell her brothers, old and new, about the incomparable Peter Pan. And so Wendy continued to preserve his precious legend in story, spinning countless yarns of the boy and his adventures to John, Michael, Nibs, Curly, Tootles, and the Twins (and sometimes Slightly, who would occasionally spend the night at their house if his mother, Aunt Millicent, approved). And always would Wendy leave the nursery window wide open, lest Peter was just around the corner, his ear pressed up against the wall to listen.
Even when Wendy moved into her own room, she still told her stories to the boys before bedtime. And once finished, she would stand on the balcony and blow a kiss to the stars, for surely Peter was somewhere among them, and then close the window for the night. Then she would retire to her bedroom where the adventures would resume in her dreams.
She tingled with delight in her bed as she imagined what Neverland must be like now, considering all the evil had been eradicated. With Captain Hook dead, the island surely ought to be a supreme paradise where only Good resides. Though, in her stories and in her dreams, Peter still fought the dashing yet wicked pirate, never once losing a battle.
And Wendy would smile in her sleep at Peter's triumphant crowing after again defeating the fiendish man who had tried to kill them both. It was quite one thing for the Captain to have made so many dastardly attempts on her lovely Peter's life. But doubly infuriating was how Hook had been so kind to her, only to reveal his true evil intentions in the short run. How cruel to toy with her delicate emotions in such a manner. Never in her life had Wendy relished in someone's death before or since watching Captain Hook plummet into the crocodile's watching jaws.
But all of that was of no matter to her anymore. The water had passed beneath that bridge, and she chose to focus on her Happy Thoughts, aimed squarely at that brave and gallant lad who featured prominently in her nightly reveries. Oh, her dreams seemed so very real too. She could feel the wind caress her cheeks as she flew through the air, the smell of the ocean and the trees as she passed overhead, and the warm touch of Peter's hand as he guided her toward another delicious adventure.
At one point, quite suddenly too, Peter stopped and placed his hands upon her shoulders and began speaking to her, though she could not make out exactly what he was saying. His voice was clear as day in her ears, but the words were rather muddled. She thought he may be saying her name, softly and carefully, but as she strained to make it all out, his visage became as fuzzy as his words. But now she could perceive that he was indeed speaking her name, and yet he was slipping away from her. Oh please, don't go now! Wendy tried to hold onto him until at last everything went black before her eyes, and all that remained was the crystal clear chanting of her name in her ears. But it was no longer Peter's voice, though it did seem familiar. Then all at once, Wendy became aware that she was not dreaming, and there was someone standing at her bedside, trying to gently rouse her awake. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, and they blearily set upon the face of her adopted brother, Nibs.
"What is it?" Wendy asked, tired but anxious. Rare were the occasions that one of the boys should wake her in the middle of the night, and it was most often not to good news.
But Nibs's excited smile put her mind at ease. "Wendy, guess who has come to see you?"
Before Wendy had scarcely a chance to guess, Nibs moved aside, and in his place stepped a marvelous boy, his hands on his hips, clad only in leaves and vines and a clever grin. There was never any mistaking the countenance of Peter Pan.
Wendy slept with no nightlight, so the room was rather dark, the lone source of any light being a streetlamp outside her window. She was also still quite recovering from her dream, and she was convinced that this must simply be part of it. It was probably just John or perhaps Slightly standing before her, and her own sleepiness was morphing him into the figure of Peter Pan. Yet, as her eyes continued to adjust, she slowly began to realize that it was all quite real. And when he leaned forward nearer to her so that she could take in the unmistakable scent of Neverland emanating from his bronzed skin, she could no longer doubt his authenticity.
"Peter!" she exclaimed breathlessly, propping herself up on her elbow. "It really is you!"
He smiled proudly. "Aye, 'tis me, Wendy. I came back, just as I said I would."
"Why, how very sweet of you, Peter!" Wendy's eyes began to dart about the room. "Is Tinker Bell with you?"
Peter glanced briefly behind him, toward where Tinker Bell was sitting atop Wendy's bureau sulking. "Yes, she is here, but she is in a rather grouchy mood this evening."
They exchanged a knowing chuckle. Wendy's voice seemed a touch different than how he had remembered it – a bit lower in its timbre. Though she looked to be about the same, even if it was decidedly difficult to tell in the darkness of her room. But the charming sparkle in her eyes was undeniably Wendy, as was that special thimble that lurked about the corner of her mouth. He could see it longing to spring from her lips and onto his, and admittedly he would have very much liked it to do so.
"I shall let the two of you get reacquainted," Nibs announced, backing toward the door. "Smashing to see you again, Peter!"
Peter only shot his former friend a quick smile as he left, for his full attentions were squarely upon Wendy now. Once Nibs had gone, Peter knelt down beside Wendy's bed and stared up at her slyly. He felt a rather peculiar stirring within his belly as he looked at her. It had been quite some time since he experienced such a sensation, but unlike before when he had tried to squelch it, he readily welcomed it now.
Wendy gazed back down at him, all words escaping her grasp. So many evenings had she longed for this moment, but now that it had materialized, she did not know quite what to say or do.
"How have you been, Peter?" was what she settled on to say.
The boy shrugged. "Quite well, I suppose. And you?"
"Why, I have just been bored to tears!" Wendy laughed, and Peter beamed. "I have waited so very long to see you again."
"Oh, it has not been so long, has it?" He should have just been teasing, but he was not. He really had not a clue as to how long it had been. Wendy understood this, so she just smiled. "I tried to get in through the nursery window tonight, but it was closed. I thought maybe you had forgotten about me."
Wendy sat up in bed. "Oh, Peter, never! I'm sorry, I wish I could have let you know that I have my own room now, but I had no way to tell you!"
Peter shrugged again. "It's no matter. I know now."
Wendy hesitated a moment, feeling suddenly very coy. "Peter...have you come to take me away to Neverland again?"
Peter straightened. He had not expected the question, nor had he given any thought to bringing her home again. In truth, he had not considered much of his intentions with her past slipping through her window.
"Would you like me to?" he asked.
"Peter, I would love nothing more!" Wendy's heart began to race, but she quickly caught herself. "Of course, I could not stay as long as last time."
Peter figured as much. "Yes, I imagine so. But still, I suppose you could come just for a little while, and do some of our mending."
"I would be delighted," Wendy said. "Just let me get my slippers, and we can be off..."
She leaned over to turn on the lamp at her bedside. And no sooner had the light hit her face than did Peter's eyes suddenly grow horrified, and he jumped backwards violently.
"Peter, what is it?" she asked worriedly.
"Wendy," he gasped, "What has happened to you?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Your face, it..." He stared unbelievably at the features of her visage – the shape of her chin, the well-defined cheekbones, the thinner nose... His eyes wandered down below her neck, where the form-fitting nightdress she wore hugged her figure and displayed all the drastic changes that had occurred in her body. "All of you...you're so different..."
Wendy quickly realized what was troubling him. It had been five long years since he saw her, and it had slipped her mind as to how alarming it might be to behold her as she was now. But had she really changed *that* much?
"I am no so very different than from before, Peter," she tried to reassure him. "It's just that I am a bit...older now, and..."
"Stop," Peter demanded firmly. "I don't want to hear that."
Slowly, Wendy swung her legs around the side of her bed, preparing to stand. "Peter, it has been quite some time since we last saw each other, much longer than I think you realize."
"You're grown-up now," Peter spat at her.
"No!" Wendy was quick to reply. "I am not grown-up yet, Peter. I am older, but I am still just a girl, I promise."
She stood then, and when she did, even from the distance that separated them, he could plainly see that she was much taller. In fact, she was taller than him! In the corner of the room, Tinker Bell's eyes widened in surprised delight.
"I knew this would happen," Peter muttered.
Now the height difference became evident to Wendy, and it startled her as well. "Peter, please...this may be my last chance ever."
"Last chance for what?" Peter asked warily.
"To go to Neverland."
Peter shook his head sadly. "Alas, I cannot take you with me, Wendy."
Tinker Bell concealed a happy squeal.
"What?" Wendy's heart began to sink. "Why not?"
Peter cast his eyes downward, not able to bear looking at her. "You are much too grown-up."
Wendy fell to her knees before him. "Oh, but Peter, I'm not, truly! I may look it, but in my heart, I have not grown a day older!"
"You say so," Peter snapped, backing further from her, "But always shall your heart be overruled by your practical grown-up thoughts. And such things do not belong in Neverland!"
Wendy could feel her eyes welling up. How could she argue with him? When his mind was set, there was no talking him out of it. She would have to resort to drastic measures; find some way to meet him at his level, thereby proving she was still as heartless as he.
She rose to her feet and hovered over Peter menacingly, and he placed a hand upon his knife. "If you do not take me with you, I shall never open the window for you again!"
Peter's heart skipped a beat. How cruel of her to say! And yet, how utterly childish of her to place such a selfish ultimatum upon him. Perhaps she was not quite as grown-up as she looked. He narrowed his eyes at her as if a challenge.
"Do you even remember how to fly?"
Wendy grinned at this question. She had dreamed of nothing else since knowing him. And so very casually did she stroll over toward her bureau where Tinker Bell sat, quite rapt in all that was being played out before her. And she was rather taken by surprise when she suddenly felt Wendy's fingers wrap around her tiny body and her whole person being shaken violently over Wendy's head.
A gush of fairy dust sprung from little Tinker Bell's body and onto Wendy, and when she was quite through with her, she replaced the dazed pixie back upon her bureau and cast her eyes on Peter, who was watching her intently.
Wendy closed her eyes, and she pictured Neverland in her mind. All at once did she feel her toes leave the carpet and her entire spirit soar, her whole body tingling with Happy Thoughts and fairy dust. And despite himself, Peter could not help but smile. She did remember.
Suddenly, Wendy felt her head bump up against the ceiling, causing her eyes to open whereupon they met Peter's, who laughed at this. She laughed as well, and he floated up into the air himself and surveyed this new yet same old Wendy. Yes, she looked older and therefore not nearly as beautiful as she had been before, but still something exciting and youthful lurked behind her eyes.
"Very well," he said. "You may come. But only for a little while, and you must remain close to me the entire time and strive to stay out of trouble."
"All right," Wendy agreed, her face completely lit up by her smile. She couldn't imagine what sort of trouble would befall them in Neverland these days, but anything was possible in a place where dreams manifest.
Wendy lowered herself to the ground again so that she may open her bedroom window. 'Twas then that Tinker Bell let out a tiny huff of disapproval and flew up to tug Peter's clothing.
"She's too old!" she whispered in his ear, but he paid it no mind and batted her away carelessly. "She'll ruin everything!"
Peter only rolled his eyes. He expected her to say something melodramatic of the like, but he was quite confident that as long as Wendy stuck by his side, no harm should come to any of them. At least, that it was he sincerely hoped. He was not completely keen on this whole affair himself, but Wendy seemed so sincere in her wish to visit Neverland one last time. He would simply have to keep an extra watchful eye on her. At the first sign of trouble, he would have her back in her own bed in no time.
The window open, Wendy stood out on the ledge, looking at Peter over her shoulder expectantly. She looked so lovely standing there, her eyes enticing him on. It had been far too long since Peter was gazed upon in such a manner. Despite her altered appearance, she was still His Wendy, and as long as she remembered him and remembered how to fly, he could scarcely deny her access to Neverland.
With Tinker Bell near, he floated over to Wendy and out of the window into the London night, gauging the stars ahead of them. He was just about to take off when he heard Wendy speak his name softly behind him. He turned and saw her holding her hand out to him with a blushing smile. It had not crossed his mind to take her by the hand that evening, for he rather expected she was too grown-up to need his guidance. But the girlish twinkle in her eye softened his resolve, and he slipped his hand into hers and led her from the window and into the night.
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them.
Here be Chapter III .....more comments please! :-)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
III. SWEET DREAMS AND HARSH TRUTHS
Wendy Darling never forgot.
So long as there were peaceful nights and a pillow on which she could rest her head, the memories of her wonderful voyage to Neverland were never far from her reveries. And neither, too, was that remarkable young boy.
Few things had changed, really, as far as Wendy was concerned. Oh, indeed, she had blossomed considerably in the past few years, and her every move was carefully watched and scrutinized by her mentor, Aunt Millicent. Try as the adults in her life might to wash Wendy clean of all the childish inclinations from her heart, they had no claim whatever on what she saw and experienced in her dreams. For, in Neverland, one is free to be whomever or whatever they wish, if only for a night.
And Wendy's dreams had turned to the magical island even more intensely as of late. She was nearly eighteen now, and her parents had begun working most vigorously to choose a proper husband for their daughter.
*Husband*. Just the word itself made Wendy's stomach groan. How could she even think about being married and dutifully bound to some man for the remainder of her life when she still felt she had so much more youth in her to expend? And yet, this was precisely for what she was being groomed. Many evenings, she wished she could just stop time altogether; that she could bid her body stop growing every which way, so that she might be able luxuriate in her childhood for just a little while longer. At twelve, whence returning from her adventures in Neverland, she had thought she was ready to grow up. But now that this threshold lay before her, in plain view, she questioned whether she truly was prepared to cross it.
Hence, she turned inevitably to Neverland, and to Peter Pan, to draw her thoughts and worries from the drudgery of her everyday mortal life. And it is here that we may be able to discern the one clue of Wendy's impending womanhood – and that is, in her recent attitude toward Peter himself.
To be sure, she was every bit as in love with him as the very first time she caught him hovering over her bed in the middle of the night. And her affection had not waned in the least in the years since she last saw him dart off from her window and into the starry sky. But she was older now, thus a more practical and maternal adoration for the boy had begun to usurp her former feelings of girlish "puppy-love." No more did she long for him to take her in his arms for a moonlit dance among the fairies, gazing into her eyes in such a manner that assured her all was perfect with the world. Now she would rather take him in her arms, and hold him tightly whilst he slept to protect him from the troublesome dreams that agitated his slumber. It was this transition in her heart that made her ever glad she had given to him her Hidden Kiss when the opportunity presented itself years before. When they were both still so young and innocent.
Peter had said he would come back. He had not specified when, and Wendy could hardly expect that of him. But she could see in his eyes that he meant it. He would return to hear all the wonderful tales she would tell her brothers, old and new, about the incomparable Peter Pan. And so Wendy continued to preserve his precious legend in story, spinning countless yarns of the boy and his adventures to John, Michael, Nibs, Curly, Tootles, and the Twins (and sometimes Slightly, who would occasionally spend the night at their house if his mother, Aunt Millicent, approved). And always would Wendy leave the nursery window wide open, lest Peter was just around the corner, his ear pressed up against the wall to listen.
Even when Wendy moved into her own room, she still told her stories to the boys before bedtime. And once finished, she would stand on the balcony and blow a kiss to the stars, for surely Peter was somewhere among them, and then close the window for the night. Then she would retire to her bedroom where the adventures would resume in her dreams.
She tingled with delight in her bed as she imagined what Neverland must be like now, considering all the evil had been eradicated. With Captain Hook dead, the island surely ought to be a supreme paradise where only Good resides. Though, in her stories and in her dreams, Peter still fought the dashing yet wicked pirate, never once losing a battle.
And Wendy would smile in her sleep at Peter's triumphant crowing after again defeating the fiendish man who had tried to kill them both. It was quite one thing for the Captain to have made so many dastardly attempts on her lovely Peter's life. But doubly infuriating was how Hook had been so kind to her, only to reveal his true evil intentions in the short run. How cruel to toy with her delicate emotions in such a manner. Never in her life had Wendy relished in someone's death before or since watching Captain Hook plummet into the crocodile's watching jaws.
But all of that was of no matter to her anymore. The water had passed beneath that bridge, and she chose to focus on her Happy Thoughts, aimed squarely at that brave and gallant lad who featured prominently in her nightly reveries. Oh, her dreams seemed so very real too. She could feel the wind caress her cheeks as she flew through the air, the smell of the ocean and the trees as she passed overhead, and the warm touch of Peter's hand as he guided her toward another delicious adventure.
At one point, quite suddenly too, Peter stopped and placed his hands upon her shoulders and began speaking to her, though she could not make out exactly what he was saying. His voice was clear as day in her ears, but the words were rather muddled. She thought he may be saying her name, softly and carefully, but as she strained to make it all out, his visage became as fuzzy as his words. But now she could perceive that he was indeed speaking her name, and yet he was slipping away from her. Oh please, don't go now! Wendy tried to hold onto him until at last everything went black before her eyes, and all that remained was the crystal clear chanting of her name in her ears. But it was no longer Peter's voice, though it did seem familiar. Then all at once, Wendy became aware that she was not dreaming, and there was someone standing at her bedside, trying to gently rouse her awake. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, and they blearily set upon the face of her adopted brother, Nibs.
"What is it?" Wendy asked, tired but anxious. Rare were the occasions that one of the boys should wake her in the middle of the night, and it was most often not to good news.
But Nibs's excited smile put her mind at ease. "Wendy, guess who has come to see you?"
Before Wendy had scarcely a chance to guess, Nibs moved aside, and in his place stepped a marvelous boy, his hands on his hips, clad only in leaves and vines and a clever grin. There was never any mistaking the countenance of Peter Pan.
Wendy slept with no nightlight, so the room was rather dark, the lone source of any light being a streetlamp outside her window. She was also still quite recovering from her dream, and she was convinced that this must simply be part of it. It was probably just John or perhaps Slightly standing before her, and her own sleepiness was morphing him into the figure of Peter Pan. Yet, as her eyes continued to adjust, she slowly began to realize that it was all quite real. And when he leaned forward nearer to her so that she could take in the unmistakable scent of Neverland emanating from his bronzed skin, she could no longer doubt his authenticity.
"Peter!" she exclaimed breathlessly, propping herself up on her elbow. "It really is you!"
He smiled proudly. "Aye, 'tis me, Wendy. I came back, just as I said I would."
"Why, how very sweet of you, Peter!" Wendy's eyes began to dart about the room. "Is Tinker Bell with you?"
Peter glanced briefly behind him, toward where Tinker Bell was sitting atop Wendy's bureau sulking. "Yes, she is here, but she is in a rather grouchy mood this evening."
They exchanged a knowing chuckle. Wendy's voice seemed a touch different than how he had remembered it – a bit lower in its timbre. Though she looked to be about the same, even if it was decidedly difficult to tell in the darkness of her room. But the charming sparkle in her eyes was undeniably Wendy, as was that special thimble that lurked about the corner of her mouth. He could see it longing to spring from her lips and onto his, and admittedly he would have very much liked it to do so.
"I shall let the two of you get reacquainted," Nibs announced, backing toward the door. "Smashing to see you again, Peter!"
Peter only shot his former friend a quick smile as he left, for his full attentions were squarely upon Wendy now. Once Nibs had gone, Peter knelt down beside Wendy's bed and stared up at her slyly. He felt a rather peculiar stirring within his belly as he looked at her. It had been quite some time since he experienced such a sensation, but unlike before when he had tried to squelch it, he readily welcomed it now.
Wendy gazed back down at him, all words escaping her grasp. So many evenings had she longed for this moment, but now that it had materialized, she did not know quite what to say or do.
"How have you been, Peter?" was what she settled on to say.
The boy shrugged. "Quite well, I suppose. And you?"
"Why, I have just been bored to tears!" Wendy laughed, and Peter beamed. "I have waited so very long to see you again."
"Oh, it has not been so long, has it?" He should have just been teasing, but he was not. He really had not a clue as to how long it had been. Wendy understood this, so she just smiled. "I tried to get in through the nursery window tonight, but it was closed. I thought maybe you had forgotten about me."
Wendy sat up in bed. "Oh, Peter, never! I'm sorry, I wish I could have let you know that I have my own room now, but I had no way to tell you!"
Peter shrugged again. "It's no matter. I know now."
Wendy hesitated a moment, feeling suddenly very coy. "Peter...have you come to take me away to Neverland again?"
Peter straightened. He had not expected the question, nor had he given any thought to bringing her home again. In truth, he had not considered much of his intentions with her past slipping through her window.
"Would you like me to?" he asked.
"Peter, I would love nothing more!" Wendy's heart began to race, but she quickly caught herself. "Of course, I could not stay as long as last time."
Peter figured as much. "Yes, I imagine so. But still, I suppose you could come just for a little while, and do some of our mending."
"I would be delighted," Wendy said. "Just let me get my slippers, and we can be off..."
She leaned over to turn on the lamp at her bedside. And no sooner had the light hit her face than did Peter's eyes suddenly grow horrified, and he jumped backwards violently.
"Peter, what is it?" she asked worriedly.
"Wendy," he gasped, "What has happened to you?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Your face, it..." He stared unbelievably at the features of her visage – the shape of her chin, the well-defined cheekbones, the thinner nose... His eyes wandered down below her neck, where the form-fitting nightdress she wore hugged her figure and displayed all the drastic changes that had occurred in her body. "All of you...you're so different..."
Wendy quickly realized what was troubling him. It had been five long years since he saw her, and it had slipped her mind as to how alarming it might be to behold her as she was now. But had she really changed *that* much?
"I am no so very different than from before, Peter," she tried to reassure him. "It's just that I am a bit...older now, and..."
"Stop," Peter demanded firmly. "I don't want to hear that."
Slowly, Wendy swung her legs around the side of her bed, preparing to stand. "Peter, it has been quite some time since we last saw each other, much longer than I think you realize."
"You're grown-up now," Peter spat at her.
"No!" Wendy was quick to reply. "I am not grown-up yet, Peter. I am older, but I am still just a girl, I promise."
She stood then, and when she did, even from the distance that separated them, he could plainly see that she was much taller. In fact, she was taller than him! In the corner of the room, Tinker Bell's eyes widened in surprised delight.
"I knew this would happen," Peter muttered.
Now the height difference became evident to Wendy, and it startled her as well. "Peter, please...this may be my last chance ever."
"Last chance for what?" Peter asked warily.
"To go to Neverland."
Peter shook his head sadly. "Alas, I cannot take you with me, Wendy."
Tinker Bell concealed a happy squeal.
"What?" Wendy's heart began to sink. "Why not?"
Peter cast his eyes downward, not able to bear looking at her. "You are much too grown-up."
Wendy fell to her knees before him. "Oh, but Peter, I'm not, truly! I may look it, but in my heart, I have not grown a day older!"
"You say so," Peter snapped, backing further from her, "But always shall your heart be overruled by your practical grown-up thoughts. And such things do not belong in Neverland!"
Wendy could feel her eyes welling up. How could she argue with him? When his mind was set, there was no talking him out of it. She would have to resort to drastic measures; find some way to meet him at his level, thereby proving she was still as heartless as he.
She rose to her feet and hovered over Peter menacingly, and he placed a hand upon his knife. "If you do not take me with you, I shall never open the window for you again!"
Peter's heart skipped a beat. How cruel of her to say! And yet, how utterly childish of her to place such a selfish ultimatum upon him. Perhaps she was not quite as grown-up as she looked. He narrowed his eyes at her as if a challenge.
"Do you even remember how to fly?"
Wendy grinned at this question. She had dreamed of nothing else since knowing him. And so very casually did she stroll over toward her bureau where Tinker Bell sat, quite rapt in all that was being played out before her. And she was rather taken by surprise when she suddenly felt Wendy's fingers wrap around her tiny body and her whole person being shaken violently over Wendy's head.
A gush of fairy dust sprung from little Tinker Bell's body and onto Wendy, and when she was quite through with her, she replaced the dazed pixie back upon her bureau and cast her eyes on Peter, who was watching her intently.
Wendy closed her eyes, and she pictured Neverland in her mind. All at once did she feel her toes leave the carpet and her entire spirit soar, her whole body tingling with Happy Thoughts and fairy dust. And despite himself, Peter could not help but smile. She did remember.
Suddenly, Wendy felt her head bump up against the ceiling, causing her eyes to open whereupon they met Peter's, who laughed at this. She laughed as well, and he floated up into the air himself and surveyed this new yet same old Wendy. Yes, she looked older and therefore not nearly as beautiful as she had been before, but still something exciting and youthful lurked behind her eyes.
"Very well," he said. "You may come. But only for a little while, and you must remain close to me the entire time and strive to stay out of trouble."
"All right," Wendy agreed, her face completely lit up by her smile. She couldn't imagine what sort of trouble would befall them in Neverland these days, but anything was possible in a place where dreams manifest.
Wendy lowered herself to the ground again so that she may open her bedroom window. 'Twas then that Tinker Bell let out a tiny huff of disapproval and flew up to tug Peter's clothing.
"She's too old!" she whispered in his ear, but he paid it no mind and batted her away carelessly. "She'll ruin everything!"
Peter only rolled his eyes. He expected her to say something melodramatic of the like, but he was quite confident that as long as Wendy stuck by his side, no harm should come to any of them. At least, that it was he sincerely hoped. He was not completely keen on this whole affair himself, but Wendy seemed so sincere in her wish to visit Neverland one last time. He would simply have to keep an extra watchful eye on her. At the first sign of trouble, he would have her back in her own bed in no time.
The window open, Wendy stood out on the ledge, looking at Peter over her shoulder expectantly. She looked so lovely standing there, her eyes enticing him on. It had been far too long since Peter was gazed upon in such a manner. Despite her altered appearance, she was still His Wendy, and as long as she remembered him and remembered how to fly, he could scarcely deny her access to Neverland.
With Tinker Bell near, he floated over to Wendy and out of the window into the London night, gauging the stars ahead of them. He was just about to take off when he heard Wendy speak his name softly behind him. He turned and saw her holding her hand out to him with a blushing smile. It had not crossed his mind to take her by the hand that evening, for he rather expected she was too grown-up to need his guidance. But the girlish twinkle in her eye softened his resolve, and he slipped his hand into hers and led her from the window and into the night.