Wendy leaned back, her head resting against the velvet cushions of a maroon chaise longue. She shifted, trying to get comfortable. The couch she'd been sleeping on was small and firm, and after a long day in the hot sun, her body sore from pulling ropes, she longed for the soft, cool embrace of her bed. But that was thousands of miles away, perhaps further, waiting in London for an owner that might never return.
Once again, Wendy wondered if a hammock in the barracks might be more comfortable, but fear and reason quickly pushed the thought aside. The crew of the Jolly Roger respected her boundaries during working hours, when their Captain's piercing eyes were always watching, his hook ready to claw any man who stepped out of line. At night, however, after a few cups of grog and in the darkness of close quarters... well, Wendy didn't want to chance it.
A tightness in her lower back made her sit up. Setting her book aside, Wendy sighed and fluffed her pillow -perhaps a little too aggressively- shoving it behind her as she tried in vain to find a position that didn't cause her discomfort. Hook looked up from his charts, his brow furrowed with slight annoyance.
Wendy stilled, "Sorry. I'll try to keep it down." She picked up her novel and continued to read. Silence returned to the cabin but was soon interrupted by the clatter of the compass caliber as it was tossed on the Captain's desk, his chair scrapping as he rose, abandoning his work.
Wendy looked up as he neared her, cigar holder in hand. In the warmth of the lantern light she beheld him; loose shirt, his dark curls falling effortlessly over his strong shoulders, and those fabulous eyes, sharp and cold and clear, the blue made more brilliant by his dark lashes. Wendy hardly noticed his hook anymore... hardly. In the month spent aboard the Jolly Roger, Wendy had become more and more interested in studying the man himself, and not the gruesome appendage around which he'd fashioned his identity.
Looking at him now, his expression unreadable, she wondered if he would scold her for disrupting his work. To Wendy's dismay, the imposing Captain sat down beside her. Perched on the edge of her makeshift bed, he was suddenly very close. The chaise, as mentioned, was small, and though Wendy tried to draw up her legs, the blanket she'd draped over her lap was now partially pinned beneath him, making it difficult for her to move.
"I've been thinking about your request." the Captain said.
Wendy paused, blinking. That certainly wasn't what she'd expected. She fiddled with her book for a moment before asking, "And? Have you changed your mind?"
"I have." said Hook. "You've been working hard without complaint. You abide by my rules and have been a source of genuinely amiable and intelligent company these last few weeks." His compliment made her smile, something she might have fought to hide a month ago. "Given my history with the boy, you can understand my initial reaction. However, I suppose if you wish to go ashore, I'd be willing to escort you."
"That might make finding him more difficult." Wendy said, knowing she should just be grateful for the Captain's leeway, but feeling nonetheless compelled to share her concerns. Peter was the only being in Neverland, that Wendy knew of, with the power to take her home. Any hope she had of finding him and petitioning his help would surely be dashed if Hook came along as her companion.
How Wendy wound up here in the first place, ten years after her first adventure, was still a mystery she'd yet been able to solve. The morning she arrived, the Captain and his crew were almost as surprised as the young woman they'd found, curled up asleep beside the helm. Hook swore he was not responsible for bringing her here and, after some time spent sussing out his intensions, Wendy believed him. In truth, from the day she arrived Captain Hook had been nothing but a gentleman. His actions called to mind the moments from her childhood when he would remove his hat and offer her his arm, quietly pushing the memories of his violence and cruelty far from conscious thought.
Still, the question of her return remained, hanging over Wendy like a pestilent cloud. If Hook had nothing to do with it, didn't that mean that Peter was responsible? And yet, Wendy had seen neither hide nor hair the magical boy or his band of playmates since she arrived. Whatever game Peter was playing, she was sick of it. Wendy wanted answers. If he wouldn't come to her, she'd have to seek him out.
"I won't let you go alone," Hook said firmly. "The island is wild and dangerous for adults. Youth serves as a camouflage for children, allowing them to pass through the jungles unharmed. When we return, Wendy, it won't be like you remember."
She shared his gaze, experiencing a mix of emotions. Nodding, Wendy said, "In that case, I would welcome your company. Thank you, Captain."
Hook raised the cigar holder to his lips. "Don't thank me just yet. You haven't heard my terms."
Had she not been raised a lady, Wendy would have rolled her eyes at this remark. Instead, she huffed and watched with half annoyance, half fascination as tendrils of smoke rolled from the Captain's mouth. "My good behavior isn't enough?" She asked.
"Of course not." Hook said frankly. "I expect as much from every member of my crew, and they certainly don't receive special and dangerous favors in return."
"Then what do you want?"
Hook held her gaze, his expression serious but almost tender. "Share my bed." he said. Wendy's eyes widened, her mouth opened to object but the Captain slid closer. Raising a finger, he held it an inch from her lips, quickening Wendy's heartbeat and sealing the breath within her chest. "I want you to sleep beside me. You despise this sofa and I dislike seeing you so uncomfortable. Not to mention the constant grumbling and sighs of frustration are starting to wear on my nerves."
There was a twinkle behind his beautiful eyes. Wendy could study them clearly now, his face was so near her own. As taken aback as she was by the Captain's request, Wendy couldn't find it in herself to be truly upset with him. After all, there was nothing lewd about the way he'd said it. Looking at him now, Hook seemed genuine, if not a touch playful. But in that moment, as he waited for her response, Wendy could have sworn she sensed a hopeful vulnerability in the man with the iron claw.
"The chaise is disagreeable, but... I don't think I should sacrifice my honor for the sake of comfort." she said cautiously.
"My dear, honor has nothing to do with it. You want a good night's rest in a bed befitting your stature. I have one that I am willing to share."
"Willing?" Wendy asked, teasingly.
A smile played on his lips. "Perhaps more than willing... I give you my word, Wendy, my initial promise still stands. While in this cabin you are my guest, I will not harm you. As your host, I will do nothing untoward... unless you wish me to."
Wendy's gaze softened. The tension in her shoulders receded as a warm, familiar feeling crept back in between them. Deep down, Wendy had known a moment like this was bound to come along, part of her had even longed for it. The two had been stealing glances at each other for days. The defensive remarks of their early interactions were quickly replaced with an almost playful banter. And lately, Wendy even found herself counting down the minutes until they could retire to Hook's cabin, content just to sit with him as he worked. She was fascinated by the man. She enjoyed his company. It was a complicated thing for Wendy to accept. After all, Captain Hook had entered her life as a product of her imagination, he became a living terror, and was now her host and close companion. Then there was the physical attraction she felt toward him, which was exciting and concerning all at the same time. Still, Wendy couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way. Now she had her answer. And yet, something in his eyes told her there was more.
"Will you feel I've cheated you if that's all we do?.. Sleep, I mean."
"Not in the slightest." Hook said. His voice was calming, his gaze a cross between weary and tender. "I meant exactly what I said, my dear. I want you beside me."
Wendy, comforted by his aura and the softness of his words, found that she believed him. A warm, fuzzy feeling fluttered inside her as she imagined laying next to the captain. It was such a simple excitement, the idea that something more could happen between them, but if it didn't... there was something pleasant about that too. Wendy wondered if that's how he saw it. Emboldened by her emotions, she asked him, "Why is this your request, Captain? It seems almost mundane compared to what I'm getting in return."
Hook gave her a small, almost sad smile. His gaze turned pensive as he slowly spun the cigar holder between his fingers. "As human beings, it is in our nature to desire a certain closeness with others. We depend on companionship, almost as much as we rely on food and water to survive. After countless years of enduring my aloneness, having you beside me would be far from mundane."
Wendy couldn't help but blush at Hook's confession. She felt privileged sharing this moment with him and in an instant, all hesitation scattered. A lovely smile blossomed on her lips, igniting the hidden kiss and drawing the Captain's gaze to her mouth. How he longed to claim it one day. But such treasures could only be given. Hook would wait a lifetime if that's how long it took, though something told him it wouldn't be long at all.
Straightening his shoulders, he returned her smile. After setting down his cigars, Hook offered the young woman his hand. "So, do we have an accord?"
When Wendy placed her hand in his and held his gaze, she almost appeared to be glowing, an affect made more radiant by the swaying lantern light. "It would be my pleasure, Captain."
Hook bowed his head and placed a tender kiss upon her fingers, savoring her warmth and the scent of her skin. In a fluid motion, he stood, guiding Wendy to her feet as well. "Then let us retire. If we'll be traversing the island tomorrow, we'll both need our rest."