Chapter 123: The Moment You're Gone

"Goodness. It didn't burn down."

Wendy gazed at the garage. It was shabby with time but had survived the Benbow fire. Likely, she suspected, because the ocean breeze always rushed over the garage and towards the inn. It must have pushed the flames away. Whatever the reason, there it was. Leaning wayward and crusted in sea salt.

Wendy turned. Peter's shadow drifted beside her.

"You had best wait here." she advised. "Outside. Go play with the wind."

The shadow sagged. But since it adored wind, it decided to obey.

Wendy shook her head. Then, she entered the garage.

The motion sensors were already activated, but buzzed as she crossed the threshold. She paused, just to look. Nothing had changed. Not really. Certainly there were new projects with new sketches and new equations on the work benches, but everything else was the same. The organized equipment, polished to the best that hand-me-downs could. The texts on arithmetic, science, physics, and engineering with notes overflowing the margins. The gritty, oily, electric, sawdust smell. And most of all, the boy in the center, tools dancing in his hands.

Wendy smiled. So many times – too many to count – she had spent in this garage. Jim's garage. The crux of his creativity channeled through mathematical genius. The first time he brought her here was after her mother's death and his father's abandonment. Jim had been building a solar surfer. And without his father, he needed an extra pair of hands. So, Jim chose Wendy and kept her on staff, so to speak.

Wendy sighed. She was going to miss this.

"Wen?"

Wendy shifted from her daydream. Jim had turned, goggles raised and drill-bit decelerating. Wendy looked down. The drill handle was taped to his palm.

Quizzically, she pointed. "Why ever did you do that?"

Jim waited for the bit to stop spinning. Then he ripped the tape. Zzzzzzship!

Wendy flinched. Jim folded his fist, examining the skin. And the pirate's mark.

"Can't grip the drill when it vibrates." he answered dully. Massaging the red scar, Jim carefully replaced the power drill. "Hurts too much."

Wiping his cheeks – and leaving a clean streak – Jim faced Wendy.

"You look nice."

It was and was not a compliment. Jim had a rule about 'looking too nice' in his garage. Occupational hazard. It was either wear jeans or get out. But with good intention – loose hair and flowy fabric could catch in the machines faster than white-on-rice.

"I went shopping with Ariel." Wendy explained. "She made me try it on."

"I see it made it out of the dressing room."

Wendy smoothed the dress. It wasn't exactly her style –robin's egg fabric, asymmetrical with a longer back, and a pink floral pattern all fastened with a coral-red belt. Wendy looked down. Heavens – even her slippers matched!

"Well…it. Yes." Wendy curled her toes. "I suppose it did. Ariel can be quite…insistent."

Jim smiled. "Never argue with a girl who has a trident. Don't worry – Ariel's got an eye for that kind of stuff. You look cute."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Suits you. Come on." Motioning for Wendy to follow, Jim hefted a saw. As Wendy assisted, he angled the edge from her dress. "What's the occasion?"

Wendy paused. Jim waited, knowing she was selecting her words. Or deciding which order to tell him the truth.

"Well…your mother invited us to dinner. John, Michael, and I."

Jim waited. "And then? After take-out pizza from Tony's?"

Wendy helped lower the saw.

"I have a…date." She finally said. "With Peter."

Jim almost dropped the saw. "Dressed like that?"

"And the alternative?"

"The alternative? How about – " Jim caught himself. "Ahhrr." Wrestling a groan, he conceded. Jim shook Wendy's shoulder. "You got weird taste, Wen."

Wendy smiled, relieved Jim decided not to argue. "I should think that was obvious when I met you."

Jim laughed. "Yeah." he grinned, caught off guard. "Def. But…Pan? Seriously?"

Wendy pleaded Jim with big blue eyes. "Jim. Please. Peter is changed…somehow. And, well…I admit he started off a bit…um…"

"—obnoxious, disgusting, and cruel?"

"—flamboyant." Wendy said defensively. "But Jim, he's different. The way he thinks. The way he behaves. Truly. Peter is so…so…thoughtful. Brave. Wonderful. Passionate – "

"—don't make me puke."

"Regardless – " Wendy said as Jim hunted through his tools. " – Peter is an acquired taste, I know, but Jim I want you to be friends."

"That's adorable."

"At least try to be civil. Especially since Peter pro – "

She stopped. Jim looked.

"What?"

Wendy stared. She wrung the flowers on her dress. "Especially since Peter… promised…to be a gentleman."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Really? Anything else? Wendy Moria?"

Wendy swallowed. "That's...the truth."

Suspiciously Jim glared. He waited for Wendy to break, screwdriver balancing over his fingers. When she didn't, Jim returned to his workbench with a dissatisfied grunt.

Wendy exhaled. Quietly she approached the workbench. "What are you working on?"

"Two things." Jim said, forcing himself not to perseverate on the last topic. "One is for you, actually."

"For me?"

"Yeah. Do you have your needle and thread?"

Wendy nodded. Carefully she produced them.

"Figured it was dangerous for you to keep weaving the needle through your clothes. And the spool is no good in your pocket…" Taking the need and thread, Jim crouched over the workbench. Wendy leaned, trying to see, as he spoke. "…so I made this a while ago. Forever ago. Right before I discovered the magical oven. It's a weapon…for…one sec…just gotta slide it through one more…"

Click.

"…there. Done."

Turning, Jim revealed Wendy's gift. Wendy's jaw dropped.

"It's a hand guard." Jim explained. He helped Wendy fasten the leather straps. "See the apparatus on top of the glove? That's a pulley-spring system. I fastened the needle inside this part, right here. And the spool is here, obviously, at your wrist. The needle is already laced with thread. When you aren't using it, you retract the needle by pressing this switch. When you are using it – battle or something – the needle comes out and extends over your closed fist."

Jim lifted Wendy's wrist. He demonstrated, guiding her arm in punching motions. "When you stab, the needle can come out, pulling the thread through whatever you attacked."

Astonished, but delighted, Wendy examined the hand guard.

"Figured you could use it. Especially now…" Jim said. "Wherever you end up."

The mood depressed. Even the machines hummed a downcast octave. Wendy looked up. She didn't even try to smile.

"So." Jim scuffed the floor. "Tomorrow. The big day."

Immediately Wendy was sad. For two days she'd lived in unjustified bliss, spending time with loved ones. Bedtime stories with her brothers, karaoke with Rapunzel, Tiana, Merida, and Mulan, wing-night with Robin, Aladdin, and Flynn, swimming with Ariel, shopping with Ariel, sleepovers with Ariel – almost everything with Ariel – flying with Peter, reminiscences with Jim…

Wendy fingered the handguard. Now, it all seemed so sinful. Sinful that she had cherished every second with her friends and family…only because tomorrow night was her last in Fantasia. Tomorrow night she would stop being a child. Tomorrow night she would stop being Wendy Moria Angela Darling. Tomorrow night she would become a guardian. And leave. Forever.

Wendy held her stomach. "Can we – "

"—not talk about it?"

"Please."

"Yeah." Jim reached for hanging tools. He paused, staring blankly as if he had turned into the wrong aisle in a hardware store. " Yeah. I agree. Um…"

Jim shook his head. "Um. Wanna see the other thing I'm making?"

"Yes. Yes off course." Drearily Wendy followed Jim to the rear corner. "What is it?"

Jim uncovered a tarp. "Take a look."

"A solar surfer!" Practically squealing, Wendy delighted in the sleek machine. A solar surfer!

Jim could build anything. Wendy had seen him engineer treasures from trash. But the solar surfer was special. The solar surfer was a monster machine, with electrical stings and impossible circuitry. It's construction required obsession and grit. But when it was finished…the solar surfer was beautiful.

And when Jim flew it…

Wendy smiled. She helped Jim build a solar surfer when they first met. She'd flown with him, and failed miserably. The machine was too complex, too combustive.

But not for Jim. Jim connected to his creations as Wendy connected to her stories. He breathed symbiotically with the engine and opened his soul to the solar sails.

Wendy stroked the sails. Miniscule cells glimmered under her fingertips. "Solar sails. Most important part of solar surfer." Remembering Jim's first description she tapped the sail. "Jim where did you find the parts?"

"Magic oven. Down in the…well you know."

Wendy smiled thankful he hadn't said 'Underworld.'

"B.E.N. got them for me." Jim continued, kneeling beside Wendy. He pointed and she handed him a ratchet. "There's a ton of junk down there. Mechanic's dream. Even if it means being stuck for an eternity with B.E.N."

"What?"

"B.E.N. lives down there." Jim said, careful to avoid specific reference to the 'guardian' topic. Nodding for Wendy to hand him a socket, he leaned over the mast. "Or works down there. He navigates the city. Because it's all metal…"

Jim paused. Wendy had become quiet.

"…or something." he finished, cranking the ratchet to loosen the silence.

Wendy brushed the sails. "Is that where you think you'll go?"

"Huh?"

"The Underworld." Wendy swallowed. "Do you think, that you are the guardian…of the Underworld?"

Jim sat back. He stared. "Well. Wendy Darling. Good for you."

"What? How do you mean?"

Jim rose, replacing his tools. "You've grown up sine all this started. A little while ago you wouldn't have said that. You would have avoided it. Pretended everything was okay."

Wendy considered. "And you would have sworn."

Jim was taken aback. Then, after a laugh he turned with a blow torch in hand. "Yeah." he grinned, "Yeah I damn as fucking Hell would have."

Wendy allowed herself to smile. "Oh Jim."

"Old habits. They die hard. Speaking of which…" Jim presented the blow torch to Wendy. "Just need to weld the engine to surfer. You game?"

Wendy grinned. She hefted the torch. "You won't cut off my hair this time?"

Jim laughed at the memory. "We'll see." he winked, positioning the engine as Wendy opened the flame.

As Wendy and Jim finished the solar surfer, they relished in the déjà vu. It was as if nothing changed. Just two best friends working on a secret project in a secret fort.

All too quickly it was over. The sun set. The solar surfer was kissed and covered. And the two friends reminisced all the way to Dr. Doppler's where Tony was enroute with take-out pizza.

"A toast!" Dr. Doppler raised his soda can. He waited for the table to follow, and for Wendy to help Michael raise his milk. "To Wendy and Jim!"

"That's right." Mrs. Hawkins smiled. She shook her head, jerking away tears. "Onto the bigger and the better. We're so proud of you both."

"Yeah." Jim made eye contact with Wendy across the pizza boxes. "Just…wish we could be here. For all of you."

"Indeed Jim! No need for that!" Dr. Doppler sipped his soda. Before continuing, he muffled a burp. "Sarah's got news that should quell your apprehension! Go on Sarah! Tell them! Tell them!"

"Tell them?" Mrs. Hawkins turned, clearly not having planned for now to share her news. "Tell them what Delbert? About you and Captain Amelia?"

John and Michael laughed. They started singing kissing-coodey songs.

"No now none of that, now. Amelia – er – the captain's and my relationship is strictly educational – "

"Ooo. Spicy." Jim grinned. John snorted out his coke.

"Sarah!" Dr. Doppler exclaimed, hands on his hips. "A little help please?"

"Yeah Mom." Jim turned. "What's the news?"

"Well." Mrs. Hawkins balanced Michael on her lap. Jim suddenly noticed that she looked younger. Brighter. "Well. It's about the Benbow. I'm not going to rebuild it. Alone. I sold it."

Wendy and Jim gasped. "What? To who?"

"Tiana. She's a talented young lady. And she works so hard. And I think that everybody – everybody –" lovingly, Mrs. Hawkins smiled at her son. "….deserves a chance."

"But what does that mean for you?" Jim said.

"Where will you live?" Wendy added. "The Benbow is our – is your home."

'The restaurant will be renamed Tiana's Palace!" Dr. Doppler boomed, thumping his soda can on the table. "And Tiana's hired Sarah as general manager!"

"What?"

"Mom!" Jim seized his mother and spun her around. "Mom! That's great!"

Wendy joined the hug. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you kids. Thanks." Embarassed, Mrs. Hawkins brushed her hair. "But I don't know if I'll accept. Going to need more time starting a new family."

"Are you kidding? Mom you have to acce –what?" Jim stared. "New family? What new family?"

Mrs. Hawkins clasped her hands. Then, inhaling deep, she gestured to the Darlings. "I was…going to ask each of you. Jim, you first…" she glared at Dr. Doppler. "…in private."

Dr. Doppler gave a sheepish woof.

"But…" Mrs. Hawkins took Wendy's hand. "…here it goes. Wendy, John, and Michael. I've...I've known you three all your lives. Even before you were born. Wendy…honey you especially. I've watched you all grow into the people your parents would want you to be. And I know that I could never replace George…or Mary. But..."

Mrs. Hawkins touched Wendy's cheek. "If you want – and only if you want— I want you three children – to be part of our family."

The Darlings were stunned.

Eyes narrowed, John leaned forward. "Just to be patent in our definitions: Do you mean adopt?"

Mrs. Hawkins nodded. She looked scared. "Yes."

John glowed behind his glasses. "Well height ho then!" he cheered, tossing his top hat and following Michael into Mrs. Hawkins' arms. "Pour-um the wine!"

"Wendy?" Embraced by John and Michael, Mrs. Hawkins held out an arm. "Honey? What do you think?"

Wendy gazed, lost for words until Jim cleared his throat.

"Say yes already, Sis."

Wendy looked at Jim. Then, she fell into her knew family, unable to tell if she was laughing or crying. Jim joined. Dr. Doppler snapped photos. And they were all so very happy, no one heard the doorbell until Peter Pan rang for the zillionth time.

"Wendy!" Michael giggled, skipping back down the hallway. "It's a boy!"

"A boy?" Both Jim and Mrs. Hawkins rose, but Wendy beat them to the door.

"Whoa." Peter elevated in pleasant surprise. He grinned at Wendy. "You look dynamite."

Wendy blushed. "So do you. I um – " she glanced back. Her entire new family was watching down the hall. John and Michael were snickering. Mrs. Hawkins and Jim were glaring.

Peter noticed. Smugly stepping in full view, he bowed. Still bent, he held up a pair of roller skates. "Your ruby slippers, Miss."

Jim rolled his eyes. Michael whispered to John. "But those aren't ruby slippers at all?"

"Metaphor."

"They don't look like that either. Those are – "

"—roller skates?" Quizzically Wendy smiled. "Where are yours?"

Peter motioned to the threshold. Wendy sat, and he strapped the skates over her shoes. "Just wait." he winked. "You'll see. Okay. Ready to go?"

"Be back by midnight." Mrs. Hawkins called as Peter helped Wendy balance to her feet. "On the dot."

"Or I'm calling the cops." Jim added. "Doc's got Captain Amelia on speed dial. And Wen – "

Wendy half turned. Peter was floating behind, holding her wrists. Through his arms, she could see Jim outlined by the golden lamps.

Jim sighed. He waved a hand. "Have fun."

Wendy smiled. Then with a surprised scream, she and Peter took off. Peter flying overhead and pulling her along at lightning speed. The roller skates burned like liquid fire beneath her, hardly touching the ground as Peter flew. Wendy lifted her head. Peter looked down.

"Faster!" they both agreed before blazing into the starry night.

Jim shook his head. "They'll never make it back by twelve." he muttered, returning to the kitchen for one last night. And although it was short, the night was almost perfect. But as Jim retired to bed with the excuse that he wanted to fly his solar surfer in the morning, he wished for Ariel.

And, there she was. Waiting. In his room. She was crying.

"Ariel?"

Moonlight flashed as Jim joined Ariel. "Ariel. What's wrong? How'd you get – "

Ariel leaned. Taking Jim's neck, she kiss him.

"Hey, whoa. Ariel." Gently, Jim held Ariel back. "Babe, what's wro – "

Jim stopped. Thrill and horror stoned him as Ariel slowly lowered her blouse. Her body white as a swan. Her hair red as a rose.

"N-no you – " Unable to breath, Jim replaced the blouse. His fingers trembled over her sleeve. "Ariel no you don't have to do that – you don't have – "

Ariel caught his lips. Kissing him, she smoothed Jim's scarred hand through her hair, across her collar bone, and onto her chest. Then, drawing him down, Ariel mouthed the three words Jim had memorized against his lips.

I love you.

Midnight came. And when the clock struck twelve, Peter brought Wendy to her doorstep. But they did not go inside. Peter produced a portable radio. Wendy congratulated his cleverness. Peter agreed. And into the night they danced, sometimes in air, sometimes not, but always in each other's arms.

"One more." Peter murmured.

"Hmmm?" Wendy smiled, half asleep against his cheek. "Hmmm? Oh. It's late. Sarah said…and Jim will...I should go."

"Why don't you stay?" Peter begged. "Just one more. This song only lasts for so long."

Wendy smiled. Closing her eyes, she leaned against Peter's chest. "All right." she breathed, slowly fluttering asleep. "Just…one…more…song."

Peter felt Wendy slip. Cradling the dreaming girl, he settled on the threshold. Delicately he smoothed each ringlet before laying his head against hers.

"I'll miss you." he whispered as the sun rose on the third day. "I'll miss you the moment you're gone."

Lyrics were used for Peter's dialogue from Alan Doyle's song "Stay" from the album "So Let's Go." Canadian musicians. Bless them.

And I just got a PM - Wendy and Jim's "prequel" story is posted. They talk a lot about their first meeting in this chapter. You can read it: Taking Fantasia Prequel - The Twelve Days of Christmas.