"And with a flourish of his sword and a smirk, Pan and the lost boys watched as Captain Hook cowered under the crocodile's wrath."
Peter inhaled deeply as Wendy regaled him with the story of John and Michael's rescue from the pirates. This is what he had been missing. Things felt right, they felt complete. He closed his eyes and focused on Wendy's voice. It was beautiful: rich and melodic. She was so passionate about each story she told, and her voice was infused with conviction, character, and fire. He opened his eyes and watched her with a smile. She moved as she talked, often acting out what she was saying. He would never tire of watching her. She had let her hair down and it swayed with the breeze, as did her skirts. Each time she moved he could see a little more of her ankle. Funny how that had never affected him before. Now he felt a rush when the wind and her frequent motion caused her skirts to become flush with her curves.
"Well? What did you think?"
Peter turned his attention back to Wendy's face, blushing a little as he did so.
"Um."
"What? Don't tell me that they bored you?! Peter!"
"No! That's not…I thought your story was perfect!" he stammered frantically.
"Mmmhmmm. Clearly I need some new material."
"Wendy, it was great. I was just…distracted."
"Because you were bored."
"No – argh!" Peter threw his hands up in the air. "I was not bored. Your story was engaging and exciting. I got lost in your voice. I guess…I think…I must have…missed having company," he said finally.
"Sure," Wendy said, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.
Peter sat up. "You must be tired! Let's head back to camp."
"I can't st–"
"Wendy, stay one more day. You wrote them a note. They won't worry. Plus it's so late."
She sighed. "You make some good points. Alright, you win."
Peter grinned as he led them back to the tree that he called home. Wendy noticed that they both had to duck to get inside.
"Wow, it hasn't changed a bit. All the boys' beds are still here. And mine!"
"Yes well…" Peter let his sentence fade off. "Um, there are furs for blankets, and um, I'll be back in a bit."
"Where are you going?"
"I thought…that I'd give you some privacy," Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh," Wendy said, flushing slightly. "That is thoughtful of you. Good night, Peter." He nodded and flew off into the forest.
Wendy looked around and saw Tinker Bell sitting on a ledge. "Hi Tink."
Tinker Bell waved at her.
"How have you been?"
Tink smiled.
"How has he been?"
Tink shrugged and tilted her head.
'Lonely,' Wendy interpreted with a sigh. As she snuggled beneath the covers, Wendy reflected. The years since her first Neverland adventure had been full – she'd learned many things, had traveled, had made friends and had even dated a little. However, she'd never felt complete – not in the way she did around Peter. Nevertheless, she knew that she couldn't stay here. Her life was in England with her family and her future. Peter was lonely here, even Tink could tell that. Maybe she could convince him to come home with her. After all, he was supposed to be the boy who never grew up, but it sure seemed that he had grown up to her. It was Peter's smile and flashing eyes that lingered in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.