I've Got A Feeling

October 2003

"Peter, I thought you were out with the boys today," Wendy said idly. She lifted her spoon, examining the soup.

"I got bored," Peter replied loftily, hovering in mid-air, his legs folded underneath him. Wendy did not look back at him; she continued to stir with her wooden spoon.

"Wendy," Peter began, floating toward her, "You don't have to cook. The redskins invited us –''

Wendy suddenly threw down the spoon, irritated for reasons she could not explain.

"You didn't get bored, Peter, you went to visit Tiger Lily," she accused, whirling around to face him. Peter blinked, bewildered by her sudden change in mood.

"Are you angry, Wendy?" he asked, peering at her anxiously.

"Why should I be angry, Peter?" Wendy answered; she knelt and retrieved her spoon.

"I won't go, if it upsets you." Peter landed gracefully and stepped cautiously toward her.

"Oh, no. Go, if you wish." Wendy kept her back firmly to him.

"Wendy," Peter cajoled, lightly placing a hand on her lower back. Wendy stiffened at the touch, but found herself swayed by the entreaty in Peter's voice. He spoke her name again, in that tone she had yet to resist.

"Oh, Peter," Wendy sighed. She turned to face him; he watched her with a curious expression; she had never seen him look at anything the way he looked at her now.

"Don't be upset," he pleaded; his dark eyes held hers, trapped.

"I could never be upset with you, Peter," Wendy said softly. She opened her arms and Peter flew into them. He was slightly taller than she; he bent a little and buried his face in her neck.

Her heart raced and she ran her hands through Peter's slightly curly hair; his slender arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her young body against his. Wendy's skin tingled; a strange excitement flooded Peter. It was an unfamiliar feeling, unlike anything he had yet experienced.

And so, because Peter so often acted by instinct and because it was what instinct insisted he do, Peter lifted his head and tenderly kissed Wendy. His lips brushed hers, light and soft as the feather from a Neverbird.

 Wendy allowed him to kiss her, disregarding how unladylike the entire situation actually was. She excused it solely because she found Peter's kiss to be enjoyable; he never kissed her; the task was generally given to Wendy, to kiss his cheek or forehead in a motherly fashion.

There was nothing motherly about this kiss, however.

Voices and laughter suddenly rang out above them.

Wendy, abruptly returning to herself, sprang away from Peter. Peter thought he had done something wicked.

"Oh, Wendy, I'm sorry. Ladies and gentlemen don't really act like that, do they?"

"Not unless they are married, which you and I are not," Wendy said briskly, scooping dishes into her arms for the children's supper.

"Let's get married, Wendy!" Peter burst out, eyes lighting up.

"Peter!" Wendy laughed. "You must be grown up to be married!"

Peter scowled.

"Neverland is different than London," he said darkly.

Wendy's heart, which had skipped at beat at Peter's suggestion, now sank.

"Of course Neverland is different," she said quickly, "Gather the boys; it is time to eat."

Peter gazed at her for a long, shrewd moment; Wendy thought perhaps he was forming some mischievous plot.

Whatever it was, he did not relate it to her; he turned and flew out of the room.

Wendy bit her lip, banishing the last few moments from her mind.

She was a lady. That was never again to be forgotten.