A/N: Tis getting' rather fluffy now….:)
Wendy listened to the rhythmic breathing of her brothers (and the snoring of Nana) as she darned a sock by firelight. An ancient grandfather clock ticked gently as Wendy worked, the fire glimmering more and more dimly as time wore on. Finally, when the fire had finally died down to a few glowing embers, Wendy rose from the rocking chair, drifting towards the frost-covered window. Brushing aside the lace curtain, Wendy stared out into the icy night, her breath steaming the glass of the window. A full moon, huge and creamy white, hung among the glittering stars. A smile flitted across Wendy's features; she felt oddly calm, more so than usual. What she didn't realize was that soon her entire world would be changed in just this one night.
Ah well. They say ignorance is bliss, and perhaps it was true. If Wendy had known what would occur on that particular evening, she might have found some excuse to leave the house. Or maybe she would have stayed, eagerly awaiting what was to come. We will, most likely, never know.
Wendy crossed the room to her bed, pulling back her huge feather blanket and slipping between the sheets. She let out a soft sigh of contentment, then snuggled against her pillow as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
It is said that the Neverland was created by dreams, and the place where every child's imagination lives. Yet tonight, instead of Wendy's mind flying off to Neverland, the Neverland was (literally) flying to her.
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Peter drifted towards the window, a slight fear causing him to hesitate, the tips of his fingers straying across the glass of the window. Tinkerbell darted around his head, tugging at his blond curls and pinching the skin of his arms in a desperate attempt to lead him back home to Neverland. Peter brushed her aside, breathing deeply, his cocky attitude returning almost instantly. Latching his fingers beneath the edge of the window, Peter slid it open noiselessly and drifted inside.
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Wendy stirred slightly as she felt an icy breeze chill her body through her thick blankets, as though a window had been opened to let in the winter night. Almost instantly, a clean, earthy smell filled Wendy's nose, and a much warmer breath of air brushed her cheek gently. Suddenly, loud, raucous barks could be heard, echoing loudly throughout the entire house, causing Wendy to sit up rather suddenly, her head colliding with something hard.
Not pausing to think about what she had hit, Wendy raced from her bed to Nana's kennel, hoping to silence the dog before it's barking woke her brothers.
"Hush, Nana, hush!" Wendy pleaded in a whisper, frantically stroking the burly Newfoundland's head in an effort to comfort her.
Nana, however, refused to hush. There was something amiss in the room, and the dog-turned-nursery maid felt it was her duty to protect the children, no matter the cost.
Which is a noble trait, true enough, but sometimes rather irritating. This night was one of those times. Wendy, using all of her strength, lugged the madly barking dog out of the room, while at the same time still attempting to stay silent, so as to not wake her siblings.
Panting, Wendy finally managed to push the dog outside of the nursery, firmly shutting the door behind her. She pressed her back against the wall, holding her breath as she listened to the sounds of her younger brothers' gentle breathing. Satisfied that they were still asleep, Wendy crept noiselessly across the room and collapsed onto her bed, already exhausted.
Trouble was, there was already someone in it.
Wendy, too startled to scream, felt a hand clap around her mouth.
"Don't scream," a voice breathed, right next to her ear. "I won't hurt you." The hand lifted off her mouth, and Wendy felt someone shift behind her, moving around her so that the figure was now sitting (as far as Wendy could tell) in front of her on the bed.
"Who…who are you?" Wendy whispered, still frightened despite the stranger's word that he would not hurt her. She reached out tentatively in the darkness, but felt only warm skin beneath her fingertips. Very aware of the impropriety of the situation, Wendy snatched her hand back with a soft gasp of surprise. "Would it…be all right if I lit the lamps?" Wendy asked, rather lamely, desperate for an excuse to get away from the bed.
A quiet laugh answered her question, and the oldest Darling child slid off the bed rapidly, hurrying towards the wall. Holding her arms out in front of her in an attempt to make sure she didn't crash into anything, Wendy slid her hands up the wall until she found the lamplight. Taking a deep breath, she turned the little knob until the flame brightened and lit the room. Wendy turned slowly, curious and frightened as to what she was about to see.
When her eyes finally rested on the figure of Peter Pan, she fell back against the wall, her heart racing madly. A boy was sitting, quite calmly, on her bed. A boy. A tanned, well-muscled, scantily-clothed boy. Wendy found that she was having the hardest time breathing, and as she struggled to control her heartbeat, something occurred to her.
Here she was, standing in front of this boy, in her nightdress. Wendy blushed a deep rose color as she fumbled for her robe, frantically searching through her chest of drawers.
Peter watched this display with interest, propping his elbow against his bent knee and letting his head rest in his hand while one foot dangled off the end of Wendy's bed. The girl had changed since the last time Peter had seen her last. Her chestnut brown hair had grown longer and silkier, her movements more graceful, her thin frame now curved. But it was not just her physical appearance that intrigued him; it was her awkward shyness, the way her proper manners seemed to unravel with just a look from Peter. He chuckled lightly as Wendy finally retrieved her robe, knotting the sash around her waist with more vigor than needed.
"Who are you?" Wendy asked hesitantly, though she was sure she already knew.
"Peter Pan," the boy said, confirming her suspicions. "And who are you?"
"Wendy Moira Angela Darling," said Wendy, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu as she said her name. She stepped forward once and curtsied lightly; Wendy was not one to forget her manners, even in the strangest of situations.
Peter slid off the bed and bowed formally. He too, knew some manners, having attended many fairy balls in Neverland. He took a careful step towards her, as though afraid he might startle her if he made any sudden movements. Wendy's face was upturned towards his, her expression innocent, though her blue eyes stared at him with the intensity of a falcon.
"I've seen you once before," Peter said slowly, one curious finger reaching out to gently touch her cheek. Wendy's eyes widened noticeably, and Peter fought back a smile.
"You…you have?" Wendy squeaked, her heart hammering madly against her ribcage as Peter stepped closer. He smelled wonderful, much like rain on a spring day, earthy and clean. His breath fanned out gently onto her cheeks, his blue-gray eyes locked on her face.
"Yes," Peter murmured, his eyes gaining a distant look as he remembered things from his past; some pleasant, others as dark as any nightmare. Peter turned his attention back to Wendy's face, smiling somewhat bitterly. "This used to be my home."
Startled, Wendy reeled back, her mouth hung open in unladylike shock.
"Oh, Peter," she breathed, her motherly instincts suffocating all other thoughts as she reached out to console him.
Jerking his arm away, Peter floated up suddenly towards the ceiling, a careful expression of indifference masking his true feelings.
"You've changed the wallpaper," he said wryly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He glided towards the wall and lowered his feet until they were parallel to the floor, his fingers brushing the flower-adorned paper almost tenderly.
Wendy fingered the sash tied around her waist, glancing at Peter occasionally, who eventually returned to the ground to examine a dollhouse. Wendy had just mustered up enough courage to ask Peter about his former life, when she turned and found herself almost nose-to-nose with him.
"You've changed too," he said softly, taking a dark strand of her hair and playing with it between his fingers, his close presence making it difficult for Wendy to think clearly.
"Well…y-yes," Wendy stammered, her cheeks reddening with each passing second as Peter inched even closer. She struggled to string a few words together as Peter, very gently, rested his hand on the back of her neck, bringing her face closer to his. He had gotten so close now that his soft lips brushed hers, with Wendy breathing in his sweet scent.
Out of nowhere, a loud, rasping snore came from John's bed, followed by an even louder thump. Peter shot into the air, fluidly unsheathing the sword from his back in one movement. Wendy, thinking quickly, managed to get a hold on Peter's foot while at the same time yanking him down, then ran to where her brother lay (now on the floor) sleeping. She whirled around so that her back was to her brother, her hands outstretched to ward off Peter's sword.
"Peter!" she hissed, waving her arms in a rather ridiculous manner to distract him. "It's just my brother, John!" Afraid he would still try to attack, Wendy planted her feet apart, her hands on her hips, looking remarkably like Peter in his favorite pose.
Peter, hiding a grin at Wendy's fierce stance, lowered himself to the ground and carefully sheathed his sword.
"All right, all right. I wasn't going to hurt him," said Peter, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as Wendy snorted disbelievingly. He rose into the air and drifted over to where she stood, coming nose-to-nose with her, his blue-gray eyes unblinking as they stared into Wendy's.
"I was only trying to protect you," he whispered, so close that his lips moved against Wendy's as he spoke. Peter slid his hand behind her head once more, this time pressing his lips to Wendy's before anything (or anyone) could interrupt.
Wendy Moira Angela Darling had been taught many fine things at various fine schools throughout her childhood. She had become quite fluent in French as well as Latin; she was learning to play the piano; and every single evening she was educated in the ways of living in a proper English society, so that she could grow up to be a proper young lady. But there had been nothing in any textbook, or taught by any schoolteacher, that could explain to her the feelings she was experiencing right at that moment.
Wendy entangled her fingers in his curly hair, her free arm snaking around his muscular shoulders to pull him closer to her, as she felt him slip his own arm around her waist and hold her tightly against his chest. A sort of invisible electricity seemed to surge through her body as Wendy focused on nothing but the touch of Peter's skin against hers; on how eagerly he seemed to hold her body against his own. She broke away from Peter's kiss for a second (she did need to breath, after all), but he quickly closed the gap again with possibly even more enthusiasm than before.
A sudden, sharp, pain tugged viciously at Wendy's hair, but since her lips were still practically super glued to Peter's, she could only let out a moan to indicate what had happened.
Peter seemed to think that her cry of pain was one of enjoyment, and he began to slowly slide his hand down her back, only to be interrupted by a blindingly bright light that (somehow) forced itself between his body and Wendy's.
A loud, extremely angry clashing of bells could be heard as Tinkerbell whizzed about Peter's head, chittering like an angry squirrel. The temperamental pixie shot towards Wendy's forehead, as though attempting to dive-bomb her. Peter managed to snatch her out of the air just in time; though Tinkerbell still managed to give Wendy a tiny, fairy fist-shaped bruise on her forehead.
"Tink, stop it!" Peter said fiercely, holding the fairy up to eye level while Wendy hurried to her mirror to asses the damage.
Her new bruise was rapidly purpling, and Wendy's ringlets had become a little tangled from her first encounter with Tinkerbell. She untied the ribbon holding her hair and quickly combed all the tangles smooth. Leaning closer to examine her bruise, Wendy secretly wondered why Tinkerbell had not separated them sooner.
Actually, Tinkerbell had been rather occupied with several shiny objects that she found while raiding Wendy's jewelry boxes. As soon as she and Peter had flown through the nursery window, Tink had immediately lost interest in the sleeping, snoring humans, and had flown rather aimlessly about until she crossed over an ornate hand mirror that was laying on a short table near the rocking chair. She had examined herself for several minutes before again becoming distracted by a pearl necklace that had been carelessly stuffed into a gilded box on Wendy's dresser. One thing had led to another, and soon the fairy had been touching and scrutinizing every jewel and shiny bit of metal she could find.
Unfortunately, Tinkerbell became rather bored with staring at the little silver buttons on the coats hanging in the nursery's closet, so she had decided to see why Peter had wanted to come back to the smoky, gritty city that was London. That's when she saw it; that awful lump of a girl getting very, very, very close to her Peter Pan. So Tinkerbell took action, unfortunately for Wendy. The enraged pixie had launched herself across the room to the back of Wendy's head, where she had then proceeded to pull her hair until Peter had stopped her.
So now Pan's fairy companion was clenched in the boy's fist, being angrily told to fly home immediately. Tinkerbell, however, had other plans.
"Stupid boy!" Tink raged, pounding her tiny fairy fists against Peter's fingers and straining to get out of his fierce grip. "Let me go! Great slow-witted cow with hair like mud, you will not come near him again!" she fumed, directing her last remark towards Wendy, though the Darling child heard only an angry chorus of tiny bells emanating from Tink's mouth.
"Tinkerbell!" Peter said furiously, holding the fairy up to his face so she could see the anger burning in his stormy eyes. "You will not speak to her that way! Go, return to the Neverland, before I change my mind and banish you to the human world!"
With that last stinging remark, Peter flung Tinkerbell away, who then took off out the window into the stars. Wendy returned to Peter's side, tentatively reaching out to brush his forearm with her fingertips.
"Oh, Peter, you won't really banish her, will you? That would be a bit too severe, don't you think? I'm sure she didn't mean it -"
Peter snorted, turning to look at Wendy, his temper rapidly deflating in her presence.
"Wendy, you don't know Tinkerbell as well as I do. She's awfully jealous…though you're the first I've seen her act…well, aggressive towards," said Peter, smiling crookedly at Wendy. "She must think you're special."
The eldest Darling child shook her head in disbelief.
"Are all the fairies in Neverland like her?" asked Wendy, looking thoughtfully towards the window.
"No. Tinkerbell is….unique. I've never heard of any fairy bonding to someone the way she has to me," Peter said musingly, running a hand through his tangled blond curls. "I think she feels she needs to protect me."
Wendy nodded like she thought he was right, but Peter had talked enough about her that Wendy knew how Tinkerbell really felt. Right away, she regretted her rash actions.
And that's when it really hit her.
She had kissed Peter Pan. Peter Pan. A boy who lived in a fantasy world; one who fought pirates and wild beasts, one who never grew old. Wendy tugged at her robe furtively, hurrying past Peter towards her bed. She sat down on her quilted covers, not looking at Peter and trying very hard to ignore him as he sat down next to her.
"Wendy…what's wrong?" Peter asked, concerned at her sudden formality.
Wendy stiffened as his fingertips brushed her arm gently.
"Peter, this is all so….improper. You shouldn't be in here! I'm a girl!"
Peter stared at her in confusion.
"Wendy," he said slowly, as though talking to someone rather dense, "I know you're a girl. It's not that hard to -"
"You don't understand! You must leave. Forget me, fly back to Neverland. Oh, if my parents find out…if anyone finds out-"
Her rant was abruptly interrupted as Peter pressed his lips against hers gently; Wendy's breath catching in her chest. A second later he broke away, staring into her eyes.
"I don't think you understand, Wendy Moira Angela Darling," he whispered, his expression tender as he stroked her cheek. "I could never forget you."
Wendy's thoughts were wonderfully jumbled as she stared into his gorgeous eyes, her heart jumping about erratically, each part of her he touched tingling with electricity.
"Oh, Peter," she said softly. "It's just so hard. I am required to be proper, well-mannered, every single second of every day. Sometimes I wish I could just…" Her words faded as she became absorbed in her thoughts.
Peter had started to lean in again, when his gray-blue eyes suddenly lit up deviously. A plan was forming in his cunning mind. He stood up and sauntered towards the middle of the nursery, grinning to himself as he glanced back towards the melancholy Wendy.
"It must be awfully demanding," Peter said innocently, "growing up."
She nodded absently, rising from the bed to wander towards the rocking chair.
"You know, you wouldn't have to be proper in Neverland. I am its king, and I refuse to be proper. As you already know," Peter grinned, leaning against the wall, his expression cocky.
Wendy froze at the mention of Neverland. She knew what he was getting at; but at the same time, Wendy couldn't help but feel curious about the exotic island. She sat on the edge of the rocking chair's hard seat, pretending to still be wrapped up in her own thoughts. Peter appeared suddenly before her, beaming a smile that no woman had ever been able to resist.
"There are mermaids, Wendy. Beautiful flowers; strange creatures and fairies. Fantastic parties with the Indians and fairy balls," Peter whispered, leaning close to her.
Peter had always known he seemed to have some sort of effect on females; a cocky charm they couldn't resist; a wide, playful smile that melted a girl's heart. Girls at the Indian village swooned over him constantly, and even the squaws with their papooses seemed rather fond of the Pan. So even as Wendy turned her face away, he knew it was only a matter of time before she was eating out of the palm of his hand.
Even though he didn't know it yet, Wendy had already fallen for his plan. In her heart, she was already flying away through the stars as Peter Pan led her to an island of dreams. Her brain, however, was putting up a better fight.
"Peter," she said, her thoughts already muddled by his earthy scent. "I can't. What about my brothers, and my parents. I couldn't leave them for so long."
The eternally youthful boy leaned forward even more, his warm breath fanning out against Wendy's face.
"Time passes differently in the Neverland, Wendy," he breathed. "What a month is there could be only an hour here."
Wendy rose from the rocking chair as Peter flew towards the window, planting himself in front of it; feet apart, hands on hips, his cocky smile even wider now.
"Come with me, Wendy. Come to the Neverland."
Wendy turned to look around the cluttered nursery, her brothers still (remarkably) sound asleep as she tried to find another reason to stay. Peter, sensing her hesitation, soared suddenly across the room to land in front of Wendy, placing both hands on each side of her face as he kissed her eagerly.
Convinced entirely, Wendy smiled and took his hand, and the two of them soared out of the nursery window into the midnight sky.
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Author's Note: Caaaaan you feeeeeeel, the looooove toniiight???
Cause I sure can! There's so much of it, the Wendy/Peter love is coming out of my ears.
Tried to make a nice long chapter this time, since my other two were rather short. Ahhhhh yeah, Peter is massively adorable. -glomps him-
Oh, just so you know, Wendy's little déjà vu bit is just because I figured she must have said her full name in nearly every fan fiction involving her, and I thought she would've had déjà vu about it. It doesn't mean anything, it's just an odd, random little theory I had :)
REVIEW!! And I'll….do the crazy llama dance. Yay for da crazy llama dance!