Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia or anything related to it. *sigh*

A/N: I guess the idea for this one came from Georgie Henley's FANTASTIC 'little sister look' in LWW when she's asking Peter if they can play hide and seek. And the fact that I am an older sibling really helped me see this through Peter's eyes. (It's his POV, btw.)

This fic is dedicated to my own special Lucy, who always uses her own big blue eyes to bend my will to her's. ;) Here it is, Lu! A fic written SPECIFICALLY for you.

Peter, Please?

He never could resist the beseeching look. Whenever those big blue eyes stared up at him from under long, dark lashes, he knew he was as good as beaten. And when she batted the eyelashes at him, it was completely over. She knew as well as he did that he couldn't resist her charm. That was how she could always win him over to her side.

It usually began with a simple question when he was reading or doing his book work. When he ignored her, she would stand in front of him, take the book from his hands, give him the beseeching look, and whimper, "Peter, please?" And he always gave in, mostly because of the dazzling smile that he knew he would receive he said 'yes'.

Somehow whenever he thought of Lucy, he remembered the look she had given him that dull, rainy day; the day that was the beginning of their adventures. He hadn't been reading that day. In fact, they had all been too bored to do anything. Susan had been acting as dull as a grownup and Edmund was in a foul mood. Then Lucy had asked the question. Well…she hadn't asked it, but it had been as good as a question the way she said it.

"We could play hide and seek."

He had raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit sarcastic, and replied, "But we're already having so much fun."

Susan glared, and Edmund almost grinned. Almost.

And then came the look. He should have known it was coming, but the glumness of the morning had made him forget. When she lowered her eyes, and then brought them back up to meet his gaze, he was totally unprepared.

"Come on, Peter, please?"

The eyelashes batted twice against her cheek.

Of course, he didn't feel much like playing hide and seek. Susan almost always won because the two younger ones were always arguing about hiding places, and then refused to be 'it' when they were found. He was about to deny her request when she hit him with a double dose.

"Pretty please?"

The eyelashes batted one more time, and he knew it was no good. (Resistance is always futile when a younger sister gives you the beseeching look.) After a moment of useless struggling, he sighed.

"One…two…"

Her face lit up with a happy glow, and she bestowed upon him the dazzling smile that he had hoped to receive. Susan sighed, and Edmund acted annoyed, but he didn't care anymore. He would have done anything to make her smile like that. Especially since he hadn't seen her smile at all in days.

He only said no once that he could remember. Of course, she said that she thought it was more than just that once, but he only remembered the one time when he should have said yes and didn't. Or couldn't. He still wasn't decided upon that point.

It was after they had returned to Narnia. Trumpkin had been leading them well up until then, but suddenly Lucy said she saw Aslan, and declared that the path Trumpkin had chosen, leading down the side of the gorge, was not the right way.

"He was right up there between those mountain ashes," she protested. "No, this side of the gorge. And up, not down. Just the opposite of the way you want to go. And He wanted us to go where He was—up there."

After a few minutes of discussion, it came to a vote. Susan and Trumpkin voted down, and Edmund voted up with Lucy.

So it all depended upon him.

"It's your turn, Peter," Susan said, giving him a warning look. "And I do hope—"

He silenced her with a glare, and replied, "Oh shut it and let a chap think. I'd much rather not have to vote."

He hated going against Lucy. She watched him with her big blue eyes, but he refused to look her way. Trumpkin reminded him of his duty with a stern "You're the High King."

He paused. Finally, he turned to look at Lucy. Though she didn't say it out loud, her expression was entreating him with a soft, "Peter, please?" that reminded him of so many similar looks in the past. She didn't bat her eyelashes, but he could see by the look in her eyes that she was pleading with him all the same.

He wanted to agree, but for some reason that he could never figure out afterward, he didn't.

"Down." He swallowed and looked away as Lucy's eyes filled with tears. "I know Lucy may be right after all, but I can't help it. We must do one or the other."

But even after that, though he never looked back as they marched along the edge of the ravine, he could hear Lucy's muffled sobs, and wondered what would have happened if he had said 'yes'.

After that once, that horrible moment when he told her 'no', he never doubted the begging look again. He knew, after going down the gorge didn't work, and then when Lucy proved that she really had seen Aslan, that he should've listened to the quiet pleading in her eyes. And he always did after that.

The only thing he ever really regretted saying 'yes' to her about was concerning the train ride to London. She had begged and begged to ride with Jill and Eustace in the carriage in order to meet him and Edmund at London station. Something about the whole situation gave him an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he had hesitated for a very long moment—long enough for her to bat her eyelashes at him—before agreeing.

And really, even then, the only regret he felt at saying yes was after he heard the horrid crash that the train made as it plunged into the station. Even as he lay dying in the heap of rubble that had once been a train and train station, he had wondered why, of all people, Lucy had to be on that train.

"I should have told her no," he thought dimly as the lights began to fade and the world grew black. "Shouldn't have listened…"

But then all the regrets vanished when he found himself in the green meadow. Edmund was there, as well as the Professor and Aunt Polly. And Lucy. She had given him a smile so sweet and happy that he couldn't help but feel glad that he hadn't left her behind in England after all.

So maybe, just maybe, it was best to give in whenever she gave the beseeching look. Maybe those big blue eyes and batting eyelashes knew something that he didn't.

And even if that wasn't the case, maybe his darling little sister remembered him more fondly—if just a little bit—because he hadn't been unyielding to her plea of "Peter, please?"

Fin