Title: Haunted (Sequel to Rescuing Wendy)

Author: Princess Joyce

Rating: M (For brief non-graphic sex-like stuff at the end)

Summary: Short and silly. Just popped into my head this afternoon. A few people have asked for a sequel to 'Rescuing Wendy'. Sorry, but when I sit down to write one, this is the kind of thing that always comes out. If it's well received I might do more. They'll probably be short little things like this. But maybe more smut would make up for it? 

Warning- You need to read "Rescuing Wendy" first. This won't make sense if you don't. Hell, it might not make sense if you do…



The ghostly voice was carried to her on the night ocean breeze. Wendy Hook stood at the railing of the Jolly Roger's empty deck fighting off shivers as a figure in white emerged in the foggy darkness. It was a woman in a long gown surrounded by an ethereal glow as her dainty feet walked on the waves toward the ship.

"Mother!" Wendy gasped in shock, blinking and rubbing her eyes.

The figure stopped about five feet away and pointed an accusing finger at her.

"How dare you! Wendy, Daughter, how dare you allow that filthy pirate to murder me? How dare you not shed one tear over my mangled body!"

Wendy's mouth opened and in shut silent shock. Then suddenly her eyes narrowed and she frowned at the ghostly apparition.

"How dare you lie to me, Mother!" She yelled and watched in satisfaction as that gave the ghost pause.

"Lie? I never lied to you," it said finally, affronted at such an accusation.

"Yes you did! You said sex hurt and was just something wives suffered through for their husbands."

The ghost's cheeks actually tinged pink.

"I… You shouldn't… Wendy, such things should not be discussed," the apparition scolded.

Wendy rolled her eyes.

"Why not? No one can hear us! Sex, sex, sex!" Wendy shouted gleefully.

"Wendy Moira Angela Darling…"

"No Mother, it's Wendy Moira Angela Darling Hook now," she corrected with a smile.

"You should have more respect for the dead!" the ghost huffed, crossing it's arms.

"SEX!" she closed her eyes and screamed as loud as she could.

When she opened her eyes, the ghost was gone, but the deck had filled with a bunch of sleepy and confused pirates.

"Off with you!" Captain James Hook demanded, and the pirates scattered, disappearing from view.

Wendy ran smiling to her husband and leaped into his arms.

"You were right. All I had to do was start talking about sex, and she went away," Wendy laughed in triumph.

James sighed and carried her back toward their cabin.

"Now, we just have to figure out how to make the rest of them leave you alone," he said, wearily.

"Well, I doubt my father or brothers will enjoy discussing that subject either," she commented as he sat her down on the bed.

He blew out the candle and tumbled into the bed himself, eager to go back to sleep.



"Why don't the ghosts haunt you? You are the one that had them all killed," she pointed out.

James groaned, realizing that she was not going to let him sleep.

"Wendy, they aren't real ghosts, just delusions from that lovely messed-up head of yours. You have made them up because you feel guilty. But like you said, I am the one that killed them. You don't need to feel guilty, Love."

Wendy frowned. It was hard to get mad at him for his insults when they were wrapped in endearments like that.

"I think you're wrong," she huffed and rolled over to face away from him.

A few minutes of silence passed.



He grabbed her and pulled her up against him, settling her head on his chest.

"I'm tired Wendy. If you are not, I will help you get that way, but this discussion is finished for tonight," he said sliding his hand up her waist to cup a breast.

Wendy let out a soft sigh at the contact and covered his hand with her own increasing the pressure.

"I'm not tired," she said, huskily.

"Take off your nightgown," he commanded, smirking as she instantly obeyed.

He would never get tired of looking at her gloriously naked form bathed in moonlight. Her skin was so white it seemed to put off it's own glow. She was the only ghost who would ever haunt him.

Wendy lay on her back on the bed. Her body was stretched out like a banquet in front of him.

He wasted no time, his mouth going to her breasts while his one hand slipped between her legs. He had intended to concentrate on her alone this time, but she quickly slipped her own hand beneath his nightshirt to grab hold of him. On their wedding night it had been difficult to convince her to touch him it all. She had had no such qualms any night after. She seemed to enjoy trying new things on him to find what he liked best.

It wasn't long before the both reached their completion and fell back gasping on the bed.

Wendy grinned at him.

"You made a mess," she said.

He rolled away from her and closed his eyes.

"James! Clean it up. I can't sleep in it!"

Yes, ghosts might haunt Wendy, but it was James who truly suffered.