Yes, I'm back! I think I win the award for most sporadic updates. Ever.

I'm sincerely sorry but you know how life just gets in the way sometimes… ugh. This is without a doubt, my most popular fic and I swear I will finish it hopefully by the end of this year, my senior year that is! Woot!

Please review again lovely readers (but I completely understand if you've moved on), thank you all so much :D

(Once again, swearing, sexual innuendo, and all together naughtiness abound! Hurrah!)

xox Rose

Flying. I shall never get used to such utter nonsense.

I was laying flat across his back, my arms around his neck not particularly caring for his own comfort or the fact that I was probably choking him.

"Where are we going?" I yelled against his ear, "If you don't answer me you're really gonna be-"

"To meet my men!"

I thought for a moment, his men… he means those lost boys?

"But… why can't we just walk?"

He said nothing. Leave it to me to make the kid who's supposed to greet you with a smile as he declares "you're gonna love it here!" angry and silent as if I ripped the wings off of his little fairy friend.

After five minutes up in the air, with my eyes shut as tight as possible, I swore I would through up. It was coming, it was inevitable! Then, just when I thought I would lose it, he dropped me, and before I had a chance to curse him out, I was on my way down a twisting sort of slide. For a moment I pictured Alice falling through the rabbit hole. I would so take Wonderland over Neverland any day of the week after this.

In another instant, I landed on my stomach in a heap of lace and petticoat on a bed that definitely could have used trip to Better Bedding.

"Christ," I moaned getting onto my hands and knees. My head was spinning, I was still up in the air. "HolyfuckingJesusChrist," I said grabbing my head feeling my stomach leap to my throat. Shaking, I sat up at the end of the bed, unable to lift my head up, I folded over in two like a rag doll. A hung over, pissed off, rag doll.

After a moment of convincing myself I was not going to see what I ate last strewn across the floor, I lifted my head. This was a mistake.

I saw around five or so boys starring to me as if I had crawled out of the gutter and died right in front of them. This was more than enough for me to forget any inner promises, I turned away from them and violently lost my last meal over the side of the bed.

I heard gasps of disgust, shock, and a chorus of 'ewws', as I lied there lifelessly.

"Well what the hell do you expect from a girl whose been through all nine circles of Dante's Inferno in a matter of hours?" I choked through a raspy voice.

"Should I get a stick to poke her with?" asked a small boy from the front.

"No, don't go near her, she could be highly infectious," remarked another boy.

"Men, fall in… oh," said Peter about to give his usual order before seeing his men starring to him. "What's wrong?" he asked getting closer to the scene.

The boys pointed to me, the disheveled mess I was, clinging for dear life to the side of the bed.

His face took on a look of seriousness, "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing sir," answered a boy who didn't sound too much of a child to me, "we were all just minding our own business when she fell though the shoot. We were all just starring at her when she went mad then, uh, chucked her cookies, if you catch me drift."

"He means after she threw up," said another boy.

I rolled my eyes, "Shut up!" I groaned with a lingering sour taste in my mouth, "If everyone could shut their moths I bet I could… just… fall… asleep."

This would be the final sentence I stated before falling into that same blackness. The last thing I remember was a hand, a hand that was gently placed on my back. For a moment I thought it was my mom, and that I was back at home.

I awoke with the same unpleasant taste in my mouth wondering how long I had been asleep. Before even opening my eyes I was reminded of the past events. Had I really met him? Was it really the boy? I rolled onto my side. No one seemed to be bothering me at the moment. I decided to take it for granted.

"I saw her move!" gasped a boy, my eyes flung open. I'm not sure if it was some sort of natural instinct but I sat up strait in bed, ready to defend myself with my arms over my head.

"DON'T come any closer!" I cried, "I swear, I have some mace in my bag, I'll use it too!"

After a gapping silence, I lowered my arms only to a see a face no more than an inch away from mine.

I cried out before burying my head back under the covers.

"Who are you people, where in the hell am I?" I mumbled into the fabric.

"Finally, you're awake."

I peeked over the covers to see those same boys lounging about and Peter, there, standing at the front of the bed. For some reason seeing him calmed me, yet alarmed me all at once. It was a childhood memory come to life before my eyes. Even though the predicament I found myself in was weird (to put it lightly), for an instant I had a fleeting, strange, and unpredicted feeling like I belonged here. It as like Déjà vu, only stronger.

I sat up and rested the covers on my lap placing my hands neatly on my lap. In doing so I noticed the room no longer smelled of my vomit but of fresh air, much cleaner than I have ever breathed. I also caught the strong scent of burning wood as if it were engraved into the walls of the small cavern.

"Yes, I have awoken," I stated in a manner meant to be haughty.

He gave me an odd look that was soon masked by a sympathetic smile.

"Are you… okay?"

Once again, the natural instinct of bitch took over, "Okay? Are you like… totally, impossibly, INSANE! I'm hungover and you almost killed me! I said no flying but oh, we jut had to fly. It's a wonder all I did was through up!"

I watched as the group of boys seemed to take a step back from me. Any curiosity in their young eyes, exuberated in one pissed off girl's rant.

"What's hungover?" asked a boy, the same boy who a moment ago had demolished my personal space.

Peter kept his eyes on me, "Oh, that's why you're so sick?"

I stared blankly to him, "Yes, that's the reason Sherlock," I stated sarcastically.

"The name is Pan, Lady!" shouted another young man to me. I shot him a look, he was blonde with a pointed nose, he looked to be just as old as Peter.

"I know his name, I was just being… oh never mind," I folded my arms over my chest and pouted. I know this isn't the best first impression, then again, I never did believe much in first impressions.

"Never mind that men, this is Eva!" he proclaimed jumping to my side gallantly presenting me to the unimpressed crowd. "Eva may or may not be from England, could have been kidnapped by Hook, and suspiciously lacks a last name." he stated all in the air of a detective heard from an old times radio show.

Well, so much for that plan Don and dear old Dad! I commented inwardly, This boy just outsmarted seventeen years of your thinking!

No. Eva don't think like that, you can take this kid! You went to school. He lived in some sort of magical fantasy forest. I can so end him. And Neverland. And get Don to bow in submission to me.

"Wait a second Pan, I think you're a little confused," I injected.

"I don't think I-"

"But you are," I continued, "I am a perfectly innocent young maiden of England. I was raised by a lovely mother, don't you all like mothers?" no one reacted to my question, I went on. "Anyways, it's like I said, I'm totally innocent, it's Hook that kidnapped me! It's because of him that I'll never see mother again… or nanny. No that's not right. Wait, what the hell was that dog's name?"

Is now too late to mention I talk a lot when I'm nervous?

"Enough talking about this nonsense!" exclaimed a boy more interested in a harpoon like entrustment he was sharpening as reclined back in his chair, his feet strung over a beat up wooden table. "She clearly is pulling this all out of her arse."

I gasped, "Language like that from a lost boy? First no animal costumes, now this? I'm disappointed."

"Sorry," said the boy dryly. I could tell by his glance to me, he didn't trust me for an instant nor care of my existence.

I grimaced to this thought, another downfall of mine. My feelings are always so clearly written on my face. I glanced to Peter beside me, he glared to me, I looked away quickly.

"Fine, fine, fine," I repeated several times deciding to come clean, or rather, as clean as possible.

"Listen, Peter, boys. My name is Eva. Eva Archer. I'm from America, not England. I'm scarred and nervous and I'm probably about to pass out again since I haven't eaten in days and just throw up all that was remaining in my empty stomach. I don't know why I lied, just like I don't know why Hook took me from my home," I glanced to Peter then, he only stared to the ground. I looked to others, their eyes everywhere but looking at mine. I sighed, "I've heard of this land, in dreams, in stories. I know who you are! I know of Peter and his heroic lost boys… how they welcome the lost, the young, the adventurous." Finally, their eyes began to flicker up to mine, I smirked, "I know it wouldn't mean much to you… but want in."

Peter made a short, stabbing laugh, "No, I don't think so Eva, Eva Archer." He said reciting my name just as I had a moment ago. Really Peter, it wasn't that cute the first time.

I got out of the bed and followed him as he walked over to where his motley crew of boys were spread around the cozy tree house.

"You mean to tell me - all those stories- everyone that I heard aren't true? That Peter Pan isn't the friendly, welcoming, young forever guy he's made out to be?"

"Where'd you get this one?" wondered a boy aloud, "She isn't like the others."

"Excuse me, don't talk as if I'm not in the room! And what does he exactly mean by others?" I asked looking to Pan, but before he could answer another boy interrupted.

"She sure isn't like the others," he repeated suddenly behind me with a dark sort of tone to his voice. I turned to face him.

"She has such odd hair," I heard another just before feeling a tug on the back of my head. Turning to the other boy to give him a piece of my mind, I felt a hand snake around to my backside. This had gone too far.

I spun around to slap whoever was stupid enough to touch me when Peter stepped between the crowd and I.

"Tell your little boys to behave themselves," I warned in a shaky voice.

He smiled, god damnit how I wanted to hit that grin off his face.

"I'm sorry girl, but you are in our home."

My mouth hung open as I stared to him searching my mind for a reply, "They could at lest keep their dirty hands to themselves!" I cried.

The boys snickered to themselves, "Ooh, dirty hands, I'm so insulted!" shouted one in laughter.

"All right," I said raising my voice in frustration, "I'll play by your rules. I don't understand though. I have no where else to go, why won't you let me stay?"

Peter took a seat in a large throne looking chair that stood in a corner. He stretched back into it reclining his lanky arms behind his head, "Who said that we wouldn't letchya stay?" he asked nonchalantly.

I rolled my eyes, "You did."

"No I didn't!" he retorted sitting up.

"Well you implied it."

"No, I don't think I did that either."

I held back my searing rage, "Fine then. Still, you have an odd way of welcoming a girl into this-"

"Do you ever stop talking?" he rudely interrupted, throwing a wrench into my train of thought.

I gaped to him mindlessly before finally stammering a quiet 'yes'.

"Good. Now, I can introduce my men." I watched as the boys quickly formed a line in front of their leader. After meeting Don and Hook's men, I didn't think I could take any more characters. Let's just say, it wasn't very high on my list of priorities to remember another set of random names.

"There's Specs, Slightly, Nibs, Stitches, Quarter, Ace, and Ted!"

I looked to the boys who were proudly saluting Peter, "What?" I asked thoroughly confused.

Peter found his way in a graceful jump to my side, "Yup, that's all of them all right! Now, you say that you want to be one of us, eh?"

I stared to him, he and all the others were looking to me. Some of them stared to me as if I were an insect, others still had a snippet of curiosity brewing over this strange, curly haired, exotic girl.

"Uh, I'm just really hungry right now, and I'm sorry I didn't catch a single one of your names."

"Oh never mind that, there's more fun things to do!" he declared tugging on my arm.

"Like… what?" I asked as he led me by the wrist.

"Like hunting!" said one of the elder boys.

"Hide and seek," said the smallest.

"Treasure hunting," rang another along with a multitude of others I didn't catch.

"Pick one!" cried a boy, I believed they called Quarter, jumping up and down.

Another older boy nudged him harshly, "No ya idoit, don't let the girl choose!"

"Naw Slighty, yer 'spossed ta let the girl choose!" disagreed a boy wearing a pair of thick, crooked, glasses. I went out on a limb pegging him as 'Specs'.

"So Eva," said Peter looking to me, "what will it be?"

I gaped to him as some of the others held their breathe to hear my answer.

"Eating!" I exclaimed to get the boys to groan in aggravation.

Peter made a crooked frown looking to his men who glanced to him.

"Hunting." they stated in unison as if it were rehearsed a hundred times.

Then in a flash, the room erupted. The boys ran to all corners of the room grabbing their bows and arrows, slingshots, and daggers. I was left standing awkwardly next to a proud looking Peter as they rushed around us like we were placed in the center of a swarm of bees on methamphetamine.

"But Pan," I said facing him as he looked to the others, "I don't want to hunt! I can't hunt!"

"Aw don't' worry Eva, you'll see the whole woods! Come on, let's go!" he exclaimed taking me once more by the wrist and dragging my toward the exit.

My stomach lurched again. Hook and Don will forever be in my debt.

Wow, I really missed Eva! Anyways, a new chapter shouldn't take too long. Maybe a little holiday present? ^_~

~Rose

*Edit* So, I've been revising all previous chapters to this fic. Now I haven't changed anything magor, basically just grammar, spelling, word choice, and comma errors. Really, I just made this fiction... readable. Er, I hope anyway. I think I should thank my English teacher this year for really opening my eyes to how much I coud improve on my writing. Odd enough, her first name's Katrina...