Disclaimer: Not mine. Some ideas are though.

J Amazing reviews once again came from: Zorrina, pastyglue, anonymous, Terriah, Yuki Asao, Lifes Dark Angel, gReeNeYedeLfguRL13, littleBunny92, JustDuck, DewDrop Sapphire, AriTwist, Ginevra-luvr, lara-n-kurtis, keddababy, dArKaNgEl A076, kitkat47, ChildofGod, ariadne and Kiyoko.

Yes, the plot is finally taking shape…I mean, I already know what is going to happen, but I guess now, some of you have a faint idea where this story is going. Oh, and if you asked me to review your stories, I certainly haven't forgotten about that and I will review anything you wrote, as soon as I find enough time. J


Chapter 13


Every night, he came and watched her. It took him some effort to get to the tiny porthole. At first, it had taken him a bit of time to even find the cabin she was locked in, but once he had found Wendy, it had been easy to remember.

He had been shocked, when then, one night, the Pirate Captain had opened the door and entered the room while Wendy had been fast asleep in her bunk bed. His first reaction had been to draw his knife to be able to protect and defend Wendy, but he couldn't very well get inside through a window no bigger than his head. Then he had realized that the Pirate wasn't there to hurt her. He had breathed a sigh of relief. However, he told himself that it was better to be safe than sorry and keep an even closer eye on Wendy. So, every night he had come to watch over Wendy until the Pirate Captain would leave again.

And he was not alone. Shortly after himself, a little fairy would arrive at the Jolly Roger. Sometimes, she would even be there before him. Usually, fairies and Lost Boys wouldn't get along too well with each other and it had taken the little elf a night or two until she would go near him, but now, they kept each other company, although the fairy would never go too near the porthole, just in case that her golden glow would shine inside and reveal their presence.

It would nearly be dawn, before he would return to the tree house hurriedly, afraid that one of the boys might have woken and found him missing.

Tonight was the fourth time that he silently opened the door and crept inside. Already, it had become a habit for him to visit her.


Peter whispered the word tentatively, as if it was an incantation, something magic that would change his life and turn his world upside-down.


He told himself that it wasn't because of her that he came. No, it was because somehow he could sleep more easily after he had seen her sleep so calmly and peaceful. It was easier now to endure the nightmares which, too, seemed to be less terrifying and scary. And to be honest, he was quite curious. There was something about Wendy that intrigued him.

All he did tonight, like every night, was sit down beside her bed, looking at her still, sleeping form. Again, it had been an extraordinarily warm day in Neverland. He couldn't remember when it had ever been hotter on the island before. The cabin was stifling, even though the sun had long since set and the air had cooled. Maybe he should open the window. Just a little so that a breeze would get a bit of the fresh, nippy night air in. Peter's eyes moved up to the porthole. Surely, Wendy wouldn't be able to escape through that tiny opening, and certainly not, while he was here with her. A soft, golden light caught his eye.

"Fairies," he whispered with distaste. One of them must be fluttering right in front of the porthole. Peter furrowed his brows, but didn't move to get up and open the window. Instead, a sly smile spread across his face. It was too easy to kill those little flies with clothes on, and yet he never got tired of doing so.

"I don't be-"

Peter was interrupted impolitely mid-sentence as suddenly a hand was clamped over his mouth from behind.

"Don't say that! Every time someone says that, a fairy drops down dead," Wendy said softly.

He was stunned by the feel of her hand against his lips, something cool and soft pressed against the warmth of his body. How could she be so cool when he felt like he was being burnt alive in this weather? It wouldn't have taken him any effort to push her off, but he didn't do it. He couldn't and wouldn't do it.

Slowly, as if she feared that as soon as he would be able to talk again, he would say the dreaded sentence, Wendy removed her hand from his mouth.

He didn't say anything as he turned back to face her. Her eyes were wide and her hair fell around her face in tangled strands.



Maybe now he had a chance to get closer to her, to make her trust him?

"I won't say it, then, if it means so much to you." His voice sounded hoarse and was no louder than a whisper.

"Thank you."

He paused looking at her again. She didn't seem the least bit surprised to find him next her bed, she was sitting there calmly and quiet, and he suddenly felt the urge to explain his presence to her. "I…I came here to-"

She gave him a small smile. "It's all right, Peter. You don't have to explain it…you…used to do that when…when you were a boy, too. That's how I got to know you." She spoke hesitantly, never taking her eyes of his, waiting for a sign of rage and anger and ready to back away if his temper should flare.

"How I got to know you?" he repeated, his blue eyes looking quizzically at her.

Wendy nodded, "Every night, before my brothers and I went to bed, I used to tell them stories. Stories about Cinderella and Snow White and then, later, about you."

Peter quirked an eyebrow.

"You liked my stories a lot and that's why you came to my window every single night to listen to them. But, somehow, one night, Nana, our nanny, discovered that you were hiding and when she chased you away, your shadow got left behind." Wendy said, carefully watching Peter's reactions. "So, you had to come back to get your shadow while we, Michel, John and I, that is, were asleep…only that I woke up. Then, we got to know each other and…"


"…and…you didn't know what a kiss was, so I gave you a thimble instead and told you it was a kiss." Wendy blushed furiously once that had been out.

"A thimble?" he laughed a little.

Wendy nodded. "And then, you gave me a kiss."

"Did I?"

"Mhm, this one," Wendy answered and pulled out a little golden chain from which dangled an acorn.

"How very peculiar," Peter said and his eyes gleamed with a hint of boyish mischief.

"Mhm." Wendy had never felt odd when she used to be around Peter. Whether they had laughed or fought, she had always felt relaxed when she had been near him. Now, it was suddenly different. She was quite glad that she was still wearing her blue dress and not her nightgown. Otherwise, it would have been even more embarrassing. Wendy fidgeted a little underneath her blanket. Her stomach churned a little every time she looked at him and it was even weirder to talk to Peter about things like thimbles and love stories, even though they were only fairy tales. She couldn't possibly tell him that she had even tried to thimble him.

"And what happened then?" he asked.

"Oh, then you asked me to come to Neverland. You don't remember any of it, do you?" It was a simple question and Wendy knew that he didn't remember any of their old adventures, let alone their thimble, and still, the question she had asked betrayed her, carrying a trace of hope in it that he might say yes and take her in his arms to fly away with her.

However, Peter shook his head. "No," he said, his voice carefully neutral, "I'm afraid, I don't remember."

"I wish you would," was all Wendy answered and for a while, both sat there in silence, not knowing what else to say.

None of them had realized that the candle Peter had brought with him earlier, had long since gone out. It was the faint light of dawn coming through the porthole that illuminated the cabin, as Peter finally stood up and left Wendy.

Back alone in her bunk bed, Wendy couldn't help thinking about Peter. It was as if he was the only person she could think about at all. Nothing else would pop into her mind, her thoughts always kept wandering back to him. He hadn't changed that much anymore, physically, that was. There definitely was an emotional change. Or was that just wishful thinking? It had been nearly five days since she had last had a close look at him. Maybe it was just the candlelight that made him look young and unchanged. No, that had definitely been the Peter she had seen five days ago. A grin spread across her face. Whatever it was she was doing, it was working. She just had to keep going.