"So let's go get married now." Peter swept his arm out towards the ship deck.

Captain Smee, nervous and sweaty, uttered, "Man and wife."

Wendy's looked at Peter, who glanced first at the Captain and then back to his wife. "You must kiss me now," she prompted quietly.

"I know." Peter edged forward, like a wooden soldier. His eyes were fixated on her…chin.

She waited and squeezed his hand. This would take an hour at the rate he was going. Something needed to be done. Wendy crooked her free hand around his neck and she kissed him square on the lips.

Peter didn't move an inch, his eyes still open when Wendy closed hers. His lips were as rigid as his shoulders.

Wendy held her lips against her husband's far longer than proper, but just until they stirred. When she tipped back her head, to the enthusiastic clapping of the pirate crew and disgusted groans of the Boys, Peter finally looked into her eyes.

"It wasn't so bad, was it?" she whispered. While far from the kiss she'd given him in the lake, her belly still writhed. She was married to Peter Pan.

His eyes smiled before his lips caught up. "Not bad at all."

And it was only then that Wendy noticed they floated up and beyond the mast.

It had been a day, but it may have been a month as far as Wendy was concerned. Peter traipsed with her through Neverland, happily announcing to everyone they met that he was married, with a slap to her shoulder as an introduction. But Wendy felt more like a Lost Boy than a wife, right down to sleeping in a hollow while Peter slept in the crook of the tree above the second night after their wedding.

She sniffed her tears back.

"Are you alright?"

She hadn't even heard him drop from the tree. Swiping her nose, Wendy cleared her throat. "I will be."

"You must be cold. I'll start a fire."

Rather than disagree, Wendy sat up and waited for Peter to build a small fire between them. The shadows played havoc on her emotions. She thought he understood marriage. She thought he knew what it meant. She thought he was…in love.

"Have I done something wrong, Peter?"

"Why do you say that?"

She hesitated. This was harder to admit out loud than hearing it over and over in her mind. "You haven't kissed me since yesterday. And…I'm wondering if you regret marrying me."

"I do not." Even in the firelight, she saw color flood his cheeks.

"Then what have I done?"

"Nothing," he barked.

"I don't understand why…"

"I don't know how to do this and Peter Pan does everything and does everything right!" His admission bounced though the leaves and disappeared into the night. A ginger curl loosened across his forehead when he looked to the fire.

Slowly, quietly, Wendy moved from her spot across the fire to sit next to him. She curled her arm around his, while he picked apart a leaf, and leaned her head onto his shoulder. The crackle and pop of the embers quieted her doubts. Peter Pan, master of the Neverland winds, father to the Lost Boys, and her husband, was worried he would fail. She couldn't help but smile.

"What's so funny?" He was grumpy and jabbed a stick into the dirt with his free hand.

She lifted her head and gazed at the freckles on his cheek. The poor man. "Peter, you should just quit fretting about it."

He looked at her, their noses nearly touching. "I can't," he whispered. "It's all I think about."

When he leaned into her lips, she neatly collided with his, warmed from head to toe from the inside out. Peter's arm unwound from hers and hauled her closer. Somewhere along the line, his stick was forgotten and he held her head until they parted, panting.

Wendy's eyebrow tugged upwards. "I think you have been thinking an awful lot."

"Oh, the cleverness of me."

Thanks for staying and reading my one-shot gone wild! ~JS