To any and all readers out there:

I haven't written for a while on this story, I know, but I have one thing to say before I update:

This fic is NOT based on the movie.

I, too, hate it when people just use the movie/book/whatever and add in their own insights etc. while saying that it's "their" story. I just used the scene when Wendy and Peter meet and altered some of the descriptions. Most of the other things are different:

Wendy doesn't look like she does in the movie. Neither does Peter.

They're both 17 (this is in the summary, I think)

Neverland is similar but not exactly the same


I'm going to spoil it if I say any please read and be patient if it seems similar to the movie, because I can't avoid that!


Sirius's PolarisAfter watching the new movie Peter Pan, I wondered what would happen if Peter and Wendy were old enough to still barely be considered "children" (17 years old), but definitely old enough to actually fall in love. Anyway, here's my one-shot take on what their first meeting might have been like (I may expand this)

I had not returned to the place of my birth for many years. The snow lay blue-white in the moonlit silence, and the great squares were empty save for sleigh tracks. London was dark, and the lanterns—and the great clock tower of Big Ben—were lit, glowing softly. So familiar and yet so strange. I remembered the route well, but I still had an unsettled feeling.

There it was—the window of the nursery. Below me, on the step of the beloved and yet vaguely-remembered house, the door opened to reveal golden light spilling out onto the snow. Two figures—a man and a woman, both heavily wrapped—stepped out and into a waiting sleigh. No one was home. How convenient for me. I had wanted to return to my room for a long, long time (something I no longer measured, for time was something counted only by those who would grow old; I thought I was about 17.), and tonight I had an excuse—my shadow had escaped from me during a chase through London, returning to my old home, where it knew I would find it.

Oddly, there was a soft glow in the nursery window. I flew closer and looked inside. There was my crib—I remembered my mother bending over me, her beautiful tawny hair let down for the night, singing a lullaby for my ears alone. And there was my bed, the bed in which I slept for a year before I ran away to Neverland with Tinkerbelle. I was assaulted by the terrible memory that had made me vow never to return to this place: that of flying to the window, expecting a welcome from my parents, and seeing another—a boy who was unmistakably my brother, with my same tousled sandy-blond hair and sea-green eyes—asleep in my bed as my mother sang a goodnight lullaby to him. They had forgotten me, and I had flown away, sobbing, into the night…

I realized that I was gripping the window frame. Shaking my head, I focused on the glow and saw that it was a kerosene lantern, burning on the last of its fuel. This was mildly interesting, but I turned my attention longingly to my old bed. Something made me start, and I stared through the window, squinting. Someone was in my bed!

This would not do. I eased up the window sash, wincing at the creaking sound it made, and flew silently into the room. I noted two other beds, each with an occupant, but they did not interest me. I could not see the person in the bed, who had the covers pulled up over their face. Even more curious, I floated above the bed and descended slowly until I was within arm's length of the cover.

I reached out carefully, and the person shifted. I jerked my hand back. They were still again, and I reached out once more. As I was about to touch the cover to pull it back, it was pushed aside, and I found myself looking into two wide, deep-green eyes set in the most terrifyingly beautiful face I had ever seen.

Amazed and absolutely terrified, I jerked back so fast that I hit the ceiling. I stared into that face for a second that lasted an eternity, then—still looking at her—flew through the window as fast as I could.

Outside, I clung to a chimney, my whole body shaking. I had never seen anything like that girl, if she was human. I could not go back in there, if I wanted to not die of a heart attack, but I had to. My shadow was in there, and I couldn't abandon it. However…those eyes had shot through me with the combined force of ice and fire. I couldn't…but I must. Taking a deep breath, I peered through the window. The girl was asleep again. I sighed with somewhat disappointed relief and flew through the window.

Finding my shadow, I tried with the utmost quiet to make it stick, but it wouldn't. It enjoyed being free at last, and would not cooperate with me, no matter how hard I tried. Frustrated beyond belief, and forgetting everything but my shadow, I sat on the floor and cried angry tears.

"Boy, why are you crying?"

The voice, low and soft, startled me completely. I leaped up and stood akimbo, facing her. She was very much awake and staring at me with mingled fear, curiosity, and pity. I hadn't been imagining her unbelievable beauty, either. She was about my age, 16 or 17, barely considered a "child", and only then because the nursery was probably more convenient for her parents to furnish.

"I- I wasn't c-crying," I stammered, my face going hot.

"You were."

By now, I had regained some semblance of control. "Who are you?"

"Wendy Angela Darling. What is your name?" Her forehead creased in a half-frown; I did not know the meaning of this, but it didn't matter. She was speaking to me!"Peter. Peter Pan."

"Well, Peter, why were you crying?"

I shrugged, trying desperately to act casual. "My shadow won't stay." I showed her the shadow clenched tightly in my fist, still struggling to get away. I glared at it, and it stuck out its tongue at me.

She smiled, bewitching me. "Here." She pushed the covers aside and got up, bare legs swinging over the side beneath her frilly white nightgown. I watched as she walked to her dresser and got out a needle and thread. She sat down by me. "This may hurt a little."

Having your shadow sewn to your feet does hurt, but I'd had worse. Besides, just having her so close to me made the pain disappear. I'd never met anyone like this.

I stood up, and sure enough, my shadow stuck! "Oh, the cleverness of me!" I declared.

She looked upset. "And I did nothing."

"What? Oh, you did a little." I could feel my face growing hot again. I hadn't meant to insult her at all, but had merely said what I always said to the Lost Boys in Neverland. To them, "you did a little" meant that I was giving them full credit for a deed.

She climbed back in bed. "Good night, Peter Pan." She turned away from me and pulled up the covers.

I cursed myself mentally for being so stupid. I went and stood by her bed, and bent over her, my whole body tingling strangely. "Wendy…" I paused. "One girl is worth ten boys."

She shifted and looked at me, the beginning of a smile appearing. I smiled back, my confidence renewed, as she sat up and then got out of bed again. She had an odd smile on her face, and I looked at her, confused.

"I should like," she said slowly, an odd expression on her face, "to give you a kiss." She came and stood very close, and closed her eyes, her face tilted up toward mine. My face refused to cool off. Something was happening here, but I didn't know what a kiss was. What kind of word was that? She said she wanted to give me a kiss. I held out my hand to take it. When she kept her eyes closed, I cleared my throat. Her eyes opened, and she looked at me, confused. "Don't- don't you know what a kiss is?"

"I shall know when you give me one," I said, more confused than ever.

She looked oddly disappointed, and searched around for a moment before handing me a small metal object that I discovered could fit over the end of my finger. Understanding, I pulled a large seed off my necklace and handed it to her. She smiled and took it. "Someday," she said, "I should like to give you a thimble."

Once again I was confused, but on one issue my mind was made up. "Come with me, Wendy," I said. "Come to Neverland."

Her face lit up, making me step backward involuntarily—it was unsettling in its beauty—and she said, "Yes, I will come." Then she looked toward the other little beds, which I had forgotten completely. "What about John and Michael?"

"Who?" My brain was in a fog.

"My little brothers. May they come?"

"Wha- Sure, of course." I had no idea what she was talking about.

She woke them up, two little boys. John had glasses and Michael, the younger, had reddish hair and freckles. They remained half awake until I made them fly, then they excitedly flew about the room and zoomed out the window. I sprinkled fairy dust on Wendy as well, and she rose to the ceiling, gasping with wonder.

I flew out the window, expecting her to be right beside me, and was surprised when I turned to see her standing looking back into the nursery. "Wendy?"

"Mother! Father! Nana!" she said softly.

This would not do. I flew back and took her by the shoulders as gently as I could. It was terrifying and wonderful at the same time. She stiffened with surprise, but then relaxed and glanced back at me. I whispered in her ear, "Come away with me. Come away to Neverland, where you'll never, ever have to worry about grown-up things again."

She turned to me, those amazing eyes lit up again, and my hand found hers. "Never," she said softly, "is an awfully long time."

I looked into her eyes as a smile slowly spread across my face.

Okay, before you review or anything, read the second part! It's from Wendy's point of view and it'll help round out the situation better. Thanks:)