Wendy had awakened from a very potent dream indeed. Her cheeks were still warm and there was an ominous draft from the bedroom window. Her heart was already in a frantic pattern, as she had seen Peter Pan once again. She hadn't really seen him, but nonetheless it had been enough. The sweetness of his kiss lingered on her now, however make-believe, and she had a feeling he had left it there quite intentionally. In getting out of bed, the real and unmalleable nature of the world around threatened to break her now wildly spinning daydreams. Had she left the window open? She could not recall, for she had doubts that she had even dreamed it at all. She resolved to not leave the house at all that day, and began reading frantically all of her favorite novels to keep herself suspended in a daydream. She truly had found a new fondness for sleep. That night, she went to sleep ever so eagerly, making sure that Pan was forefront in her thoughts. But she would not see him tonight, or any nights in the coming week. She even found herself checking behind the trees of her Neverland in hopes to find even a presence of him.

Pan had acted foolishly indeed! In his excitement to retrieve his kiss, he had let himself grow up just a bit, and he found to his dismay that he could not pretend himself young again. It was quite logical, after all, because he did not really want to be that young again, for how would he reach for Wendy? Oh, but the horror. Last night, he had felt so sly and clever, stealing kisses and having reasons to do so. It was not until he had returned home did he realize that his disguise was not all good and Wendy must have seen how he was so full… of feeling. The thought disgusted him. He wriggled in shame. Never again would he go after Wendy's Kisses.

For a while, his resolution was perfectly sturdy, but as the days grew on he had felt that he had taken his one big kiss and shattered it into a million pieces. The tragedy of it all was that they all truly belonged to Wendy and they longed to be on her lips again. To make matters worse, every day they became more restless and hungrier. He fashioned a small pouch for them and packed them all quite uncomfortably in it. He tied it deftly around his hip and carried them around with him. They were quite cumbersome, and always fought to escape to whisper naughty things in his ears.

"If you pretended to be drowned by mermaids, would Wendy not come and breathe air into you?" One slyly suggested.

He would hear their whispers so often it was like living with a hive of mosquitoes. One, he felt was particularly awful, as he could hear its whispers, but as soon as he would turn his head to catch it, there would be nothing there.

What a mess he had made of things, he thought as he lay in his all too cozy bed. He was truly offended with the word 'love', now. Although, he could not deny that he was afflicted by it. Close to dying from it, he feared.

The million kisses kept him awake and he found himself completely miserable.

"Go to Wendy, if you kiss her a million times, all your kisses will have been spent and we shall never bother you again!"

He rolled over in his little cot and covered his ears with his hands. This was the most enticing whisper of them all, and to his dismay, agreed wholeheartedly on its reasoning. It was not 20 minutes that he had to think on it before he was halfway to Kensington Gardens.

Wendy, bitterly resolute that he had left this little kiss to torture her, spitefully kept the window open to welcome him to battle. He knew her feelings, and so how dare he play with her like that! It was not without her knowledge, though, that the thought of him playing with her 'like that' deeply thrilled her.

It came to be her doom that she had left the window open, for it gave Peter no opportunity to rethink his plan. He would plant his million kisses and be done with loving Wendy. But how, he had no idea.

Wendy was in her little hut, now. Not daring to go into the forest, as the trees were too great a tease to not look behind, and it did indeed make her feel a fool when there was nothing there.

Wendy heard a soft Tap Tap Tap from the doorknocker. She had not time to swallow her excitement as she came to the door (a whole two steps). When she opened it, a nervous Peter greeted her. He bowed and took her hand, softly planting a more experienced kiss on her hand which puckered to her skin sweetly. One down, he thought. He looked up from her hand to spy her reaction. She had completely melted of course, not just from the kiss, but from the way his glorious green eyes gazed curiously up at her. Finding her breath, she spoke.

"You are horribly late for tea time, Peter, I would hope you have good reason." She pretended to fuss around the house, picking up imaginary cups to place the on the table, and putting the kettle back on. Peter needed no introduction to play, and he deftly picked his imaginary hat off of his head and placed it on a hook by the door, which was not really there either. It was good that the stools were real as it would have been horrid to pretend to sit the whole time. Peter sat carefully on his stool, and picked at his leaves, arranging them nicely. He was ashamed to admit he had very little practice with tea time. Wendy sat down, and tied a vine around her neck as a necklace and he felt it looked wonderfully becoming on her.

"So?" She asked, while arranging cookies and treats on a plate.

"So…?"

"Why have you come so late?" She asked again.

"Ah, well…" He could not think of anything, for he had never been good at small talk. To make up for his ignorance, he picked up a teacup and, with much gusto, thrust his pinky upwards in such a fashion. For a while there was silence between them. He had completely forgotten, of course, that he had not answered her question, for he was now wholeheartedly plotting how to plant all his kisses. Wendy watched him as he stared outside the little window.

"Peter, are you well?" She asked.

"Yes, well… no…" He replied honestly. "I am awfully tortured at the moment…" In truth, some kisses had escaped and were currently whispering dreadful things to him. He clamped his on the pouch in his lap and squeezed it shut. In his clambering about, he said quite naturally what was on his mind.

"Did you like my kisses?" He asked, before he could stop himself. Wendy, although truly shocked by his question, magnified her surprise by pretending to spit tea in a dramatic fashion. The gesture made him completely ashamed.

"Oh, yes, they were fine Peter, but I do believe you have left one behind to pester me." She said, quite contained.

"Oh!" He said, as if he had only left a shoe, or a book. "I'm so sorry, I must have forgotten…"

"You may have it back, if you like." She teased. Now he saw through her ruse and he could detect the playful glint in her blue eyes. Seeing an opportunity to relieve himself from a kiss, he leaned quite clumsily over the table, mouth parted, eyes closed. Wendy gazed at his vulnerable face, how unlike Peter to make himself so easy.

"It is not proper…" Wendy began. "To court a lady in such a way, Peter. You may have your kiss once we have taken a turn around the garden." His eyes opened slowly and he began to lose patience, but he conceded. He stood upright and held his arm to her.

"Shall we take a turn about the garden, then?" He asked in his most delicate tone. He had seen through her plan but was more than willing to partake if it meant an opportunity to plant his kisses. Wendy took his arm ever so gracefully and they made their way out the door. They had not taken two steps before Peter, forgetting his hat, leaped back into the house to grab it off of the hook.

They flew in a wonderful fashion to a field full of flowers. It was no garden, because Wendy had not taken the time to imagine herself a romantic garden, and could only envisage wild gatherings of common flowers.

"Peter, what is your purpose in courting me?" She asked.

"To get kisses, of course." He replied quickly. They began to walk, but Wendy became quite annoyed when Peter elongated his strides and quickened his pace, nearly running around the field, her hand tightly hooked into his arm. She had no choice but to follow. Without her breath, Wendy gasped after him. She had not even the chance to tell him to slow down when he turned around to face her and she bumped quite forcefully into him. They had already taken a whole turn. He looked at her expectantly, too thin on pride to ask her for the promised kiss. Wendy, too proud to give him what he wants. He merely waited and watched her, and he quite forgot what he was waiting for. Just because he wanted to, he held her by the waist and began to sway, humming a tune. Wendy was all too happy to dance, and she put her arms around his neck, which all too naturally pulled his head towards hers. It may have been possible that they were floating now, because if happy thoughts could glow, they surely would be alight with them. Peter's kisses whispered wickedly now, and he knew that poor Wendy was in no position to resist, but so enjoyed to dance that he delayed his impulses. Wendy, on the other hand, had become so smitten by his quiet humming and gentle swaying of her that her lips did float so naturally towards his. Surprised but certainly not disappointed, he let her kiss him. He could have kissed her back, but he enjoyed receiving her kisses, without having to give any back. She placed them quite softly on him and the pouch on his waist began to swell with kisses. He could not afford to hold on to so many at once. His lips parted and he leaned into her planting a heavy, weighted kiss. Suddenly those kisses were not sufficient, and he brushed his lips across her cheek hungrily, running large wet kisses up her jawline. His soft humming turning to moans. He was holding her so tightly, now, and knotted bundles of her nightshirt in his hands in unease. Sensing his sudden urgency, she felt scared. She had never seen anyone kiss like this, and for the first time, she was ignorant in their strange play. She tried to push away from him but he would not release her. He did, however, stop kissing her. He observed her quite worriedly.

"Did I do something wrong?" He whispered, his heated eyes searching hers.

"No… I mean… I don't know… Peter I don't know what we are doing." She replied. At this he laughed heartily.

"I don't know either, but Wendy, it is just pretend." He said, quite amused. A sudden blissful thought hit her as she realized that it truly was all pretend. Then, she felt completely saddened, because she felt her life would be nothing if this moment with Peter were not real. He began to hum again and took her hand in his to resume his thoughtless dance. He pressed and played so lovingly with her fingers that she felt her lips deviously drifting towards his again. He, of course, welcomed them wholeheartedly, breathing in deep as they locked together. His heart began to absolutely flutter, and he resolved it was not fair that he had caught her while her heart had beat so hard for him in the woods. He had won last time, now it was her turn. Saying nothing, as he was too engaged with his mouth, he placed her hand on his chest where she most assuredly would feel the organ beating violently against his ribs. She felt it, yes, but she somehow seemed more fascinated with the feel of his skin and she pawed at him so. Filled will unease, and uncertainty, he took to knotting up her nightgown again. Unconsciously he began to gather the fabric and it rose quite wickedly higher on her legs. Wendy guessed at what he wanted from her, and the thought absolutely thrilled and chilled her. Regardless of her fears, she pulled away from him and quickly pulled the hem of her nightgown over her head. She had acted without thought, and had not expected to feel so cold. Suddenly realizing her vulnerability, she looked at him pleadingly. Peter was completely aghast. He had no idea why Wendy had stripped so suddenly. He looked at her naked form. He had seen her naked before, but now he really looked at her. Her girlish figure was swollen with adolescence. Her hips widened, her breasts… how had he not noticed. His Wendy always seemed just so to him, just Wendy.

"W-Wendy…" He began, suddenly noticing that his throat was completely swollen. She shuffled uncomfortably, hiding herself with the cloth of the gown. He looked at himself now. His hands, his feet, his… throat was not all that was swollen and he realized now that the pouch full of kisses was never actually there, it had been all pretend. Instead it was replaced with a… He felt suddenly foolish, and felt his lip tremble. He saw his Wendy shiver and he suddenly forgot his shame. He walked towards her and gently enveloped her in his arms, the way he knew she had when he had had nightmares. He was suddenly aware of the cumbersome flesh protruding from his hip and poking menacingly at her. With all their embarrassment combined, they were sure to open up a shop and never run out of stock. To spare him his shame she embraced him anyways, pretending it was not there. He was thankful for it. He looked at her thoughtfully.

"Thank you for holding on to my kiss, Wendy, but I insist you keep it." He said. She flushed.

"No, I would rather you keep it. It is so wicked for you to leave it with me." She retorted. She was a bit broken, she admitted, and benefited greatly from Peter's soft swaddling of her.

"Why would you think that wicked of me?" He chuckled.

"You know how I feel about you, Peter. How awful you leave a thing like that to someone who feels for you, it is absolutely wicked."

"Wendy… Surely you must know that I love you." He asked, as if he had plaintively told her a thousand times. She looked up at him, her eyes glassy with tears.

"Really?"

"I'm absolutely consumed by it, Darling." He said, with a soft smirk. Although his words were so sweet, it did not seem to ease her, instead tears began to plummet down her cheeks.

"But Peter, it is all pretend, isn't it?"

Peter suddenly had no words to say. He rubbed his thumb in circles on her skin as if to soothe her, but it did little to calm her, as the feeling could be nothing but bittersweet.

Peter would not leave her then. She fell back into the land of England and he was trapped there to suffer a long cold night in Wendy's Neverland.

Very excited about this story, I might have a runner. Hooray! Let me know if you enjoyed this chapter.