A/N: Hey hey Team! This was difficult to write because I had six hours sleep last night due to an incredibly epic/long CS fanfic that took me ten hours to read. And I'm a fast reader.

I feel like chapters for this will be shorter, cause there isn't going to be as massive of a confusing back story as there was in When One Day, but judging by my plan, there's probs going to be more chapters than the former.

Thank you for the reviews, follows and favourites! That was a pretty insane reaction to one chapter, but I shall never complain! =D

Enjoy! xx

Touch

A clouded moon reigned over the waters of Neverland. Dull stars lit up the sky sparsely as Ella basically felt her way through the ill-lit jungle. She was itching to get back to her house and throw a cloak on over herself. The weather in Neverland didn't exactly change, but there was always a slight breeze that didn't make midnight dips particularly comfortable. Ella was shivering as she headed upwards toward Pan's camp.

He strolled over to her easily with a wide smile upon his face that didn't quite meet his eyes, enquiring as he strolled, "Job's done?"

"You doubted me?" She acted affronted.

"It must have been quite a swim; you're dripping wet," Pan's eyebrows rose as he glanced at the shirt that clung to her body, water droplets sliding from her hair. The withering look she gave him in return merely made him smirk and turn away. Ella shivered once more as another breath of wind flew through the camp.

"E!" Pan was calling her from the foot of his tree house. Ella sighed, just preparing herself to leave when his voice sounded. It was the expectant kind; just a hint of danger and a word of warning. Her boots skimmed the steps quickly, stepping over the threshold and into the sparsely kept room.

"Daggers at the door," Pan reminded her lazily, as though it were something simple like telling her to remove her shoes so she didn't dirty his carpet. She dropped both of her short blades from her belt along with her bow and quiver. Pan was standing over his desk, rummaging around in a drawer until he found exactly what it was he was looking for.

In one hand he grasped a silver chain, in the other, a scrap of paper with a short message written in neat cursive. Ella didn't know which to examine first, but Pan stayed her the trouble, holding the note out before him.

"Please stop killing my crew. Hook."

Pan's eyes looked up at her expectantly as Ella's face fell. She hadn't expected Hook to get a message to Pan that quickly. How did things travel on this island; parrot?

Ella wasn't taking any chances with the uncertainty she deemed present in his eyes. Taking an instinctive step back, she found herself against the wall, not exactly another opportune position. Pan was advancing, not quickly or menacingly, but with enough threat in his dark expression to make her fear.

"You had one job my dear," Pan began, shaking the paper as though that would rid the ink from the message. "And that was to not be seen. It shouldn't be hard; you've managed for ten years. I shouldn't have to now convince Captain Hook that I'm not in fact killing his crew."

"He saw me, not you," Ella answered, making sure her dagger was within a close range. "Why would he-"

"Contrary to what I often tell you Ella," Pan spat. "Our dear friend is not an idiot. He knows that I know everything that goes on around here."

"And yet he had to tell you that he saw me," she let out before she could stop herself. He was in front of her in a second, his bare hand grasping through her damp blue scarf at her throat. It wasn't the action that frightened her, it was how close he was to her body – his anger radiating towards her. But a second later, with a glare, he let her go.

She visibly relaxed, slumping into the wall with an exhalation of breath. Pan still carried the chain in his other hand, and he let it slip a little, swinging it back and forth, catching each speck of candlelight with each movement.

The smirk on Pan's face as he spun around didn't deter Ella's eyes that widened in hope and excitement. Pan swung the silver chain in front of her tantalisingly, the tags and ring on the end of it rattling metallically as she took two hesitant steps forward, forgetting for a moment that Pan was incredibly angry with her. The next moment, he reminded her, by swinging his hand out through the window and threatening to throw it into the fast flowing waters of Stoneheart Creek.

She jumped forward and he held it above her head, too high for her to reach. Unnervingly close to him, she looked up at his hard face and gave up, turning away with a simmering anger dying within her. Pan wasn't going to simply throw away something that was keeping her doing his will willingly. It was a notch in the leverage he was using to keep her there.

It was strange how something so small could hold so much meaning. How some old army tags and a ring could invoke such strong emotions that would keep her under Pan's spell. And he knew that was exactly what they did; it was why every so often he deemed it time to bring them out again – to remind her.

But as he put the necklace away, Ella couldn't help but look at the closed draw wistfully. She almost didn't realise Pan was walking stealthily towards her, tensing every muscle in her body as Pan ran his fingers lightly down the pale skin of her shoulder.

"Don't try and fight me Ella," Pan whispered, tracing the characters tattooed on her upper arm, just above the metallic golden band that moulded around her skin. "You know you did wrong. I'm the one who moves the pieces."

"And remember that time one of the pieces fought back?" Her body was not moving at all, not reacting to his proximity or touch, her mouth even barely moving as she spoke. His eyes caught sight of hers and a flicker of recognition flashed in them as he took a step backward calmly, allowing enough space between them for Ella to bend down and pick up her weapons before admitting herself into the cold night air once more.

"Tomorrow Ella," Pan's voice rang out after her. "Be back here tomorrow."

"I don't exactly have anywhere else to go," she murmured to herself as she stumbled off through the trees. It was late, the lost boys were whimpering in their sleep and all that Ella wanted was to leave Pan's camp and go home.

It wasn't far; Pan didn't like it if she was halfway across the island in an emergency, but she had built her home atop a waterfall. Hidden in a cave was a bed and cupboards. A creek ran constantly nearby with the sound of the rushing waterfall lulling her to sleep every night.

As she placed her bow and quiver in a jutting rock by the door, and swung her numerous belts off of her body, she searched for a dry change of clothes. She didn't own many – a few plain shirts, some old breeches. It was hard to find clothing when the only material had come years ago on the pirate ship which she had just attacked. But clothing wasn't the most pressing thing around here. In fact, barely anything happened around here. Ella couldn't deny that she'd rather be anywhere else, but for now it was peaceful.

It hadn't always been that way, but as she curled up on her hard mattress with a rough blanket around her, she couldn't help but be grateful that it was now; that as she looked out of her cave entrance, she could have some small semblance of safety.

But as the night turned quickly into early morning, Ella shivered. Not with the wind, for in her cave she was sheltered, but with the crawling feeling that Pan's touch had left over her skin. The feeling that any touch left on her skin…

It lingered.