Author's Note: Hello people! Thank you so much for the reviews! I was quite surprised when I found a whole bunch of review alerts in my mailbox. I was thrilled! To time is a waste of life, thanks for the review and I hope you feel better! Kitkat47 – yes, please do my homework for me! Hehe! To a nany mous 78, thanks for the ideas! One of these days, I am going to go over all the chapters and revise them. Wow, no one's ever suggested that I copyright it and send it to a movie company. That's pretty extreme! Now, you've got me all worked up about the possibilities! Zeldy – Wendy's still young and her feelings for Peter are quite confusing because of adolescence and him leaving all of a sudden. I wanted to make her as real as possible.

So here I am updating again for your reading pleasure. The idea for this chapter has been stored away in the back of my mind for the past couple of months. I've been leading each chapter up to this point because I think it's a pretty good turning point for Wendy and Peter. Because you are probably all thinking that I talk too much (which, in reality, I do), I'm going to shut my mouth and let you read the chapter!

Chapter 2: The Desire for a Kiss

Peter gazes around the dark bedroom, shivering with cold from the rain. He is soaked to the bone and he tries to stop his chattering teeth. I have to change soon, he muses, looking down at his drenched clothes. Why does this room look so familiar?

I can't remember.

Peter has been in Neverland for less than a day and he has already forgotten why he came here in the first place. He withdraws from the window as a crash of thunder rattles the house. He can feel the floor reverberating underneath his bare feet. He glances at the bed and its inhabitant, covers thrown off in an unconscious struggle of freedom from its confines. It is a girl, or rather a lady, who is sleeping, chest rising and falling lightly. Peter approaches her; she, too, looks familiar. Wendy! It's Wendy! I'm back! Peter wants to crow at his sudden remembrance. It is all coming back to him now. He had left her. He had left his whole world behind. Peter rushes to her side, eagerly waiting to wake her up and tell her that he is back.

No, don't wake her up! a voice inside him repeats. She is sleeping, don't you see? Peter sits on the side of the bed carefully, watching her with yearning eyes. Water drips down his face and onto the sheets. He leans forward until he is looking down at her, guilt-ridden and remorseful. His fingers brush against her cheek and he feels an overwhelming desire to cry. "I'm sorry, Wendy. I'm sorry for leaving. I didn't mean to," he whispers as he bends ever closer to her face. "I'm sorry…" She does not move; her eyes remain closed. Peter's grasp on the covers tightens; he does not want to leave just yet. A single water drop falls from his cheek and splatters on Wendy's forehead.

She stirs, stretching her muscles; her hand goes up to wipe the water from her forehead. As if on cue, Wendy opens her eyes groggily and comes face to face with what she has been praying for.

Wendy's eyes open wide, her eyebrows furrowing as her vision adjusts to the darkness. She wipes the water away, freezing almost instantaneously when she sees Peter leaning over her. Her heart beats faster and she tries to speak.

"P – Peter?" she sputters bewilderedly. What a compromising situation this is!

"Hello Wendy." He is not moving, which makes her even more nervous. She wants to cover herself – Peter has seen her in a nightgown before, but she feels quite insecure. He is back, though! O, how she prayed to have him back. He is in her room, soaking wet…but he is back and that is all that matters! The impulse to hug him runs strong; Wendy reaches up and enfolds Peter in her arms, burying her head in his chest. She feels his strong arms return the hug and he does not seem to want to let her go.

Suddenly, the nice moment is gone and Wendy pulls away quickly. The front of her nightgown is damp from Peter's shirt and she folds her arms across it. She gets out of bed, hastily pulling her robe around her and making sure it will not open. Peter smirks, but the smile soon recedes into that of a frown.

"Oh dear! Where are the children?" Wendy cries out, her hand covering her mouth in horror. She chides herself for overlooking them so soon.

"They are safe and sound at home. They told me the way and we found their window open for them," Peter assures her. Wendy lets out a sigh of relief.

"You're going to catch your death if you stay like that any longer," Wendy whispers, indicating his clothes. She notices some tears in his shirt as well. "Might I fetch you some of John's clothes? You are nearly the same size."

"Oh, sure, if it's not too much trouble," Peter responds, rising off the bed.

"I'll bring you a towel too. Keep quiet – I'll be back in a few minutes." Wendy slips out the door and makes her journey down the hall. She stops for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts and thank the Lord for returning her cousins safe to their beds. Wendy slips into the nursery, tiptoeing softly over to John's drawer. All the boys are silent, and so is Nana. Wendy cannot see much in the dark, so she has to pull out all his clothes before she can decipher what are shirts and what are pants. She steals back down the hall to the linen closet and grabs a spare towel. All this is done with extreme caution, lest someone should wake up and question her. Wendy goes back to her room, handing the extra clothes and towel to Peter.

While he dries his hair and his face, Wendy ignites the candle near her bed. She needs some light if she is to tend to Peter. She turns to him, but he is not starting to change. Wendy realizes why he has declined from dressing. She is standing there, lost in a dream-state. She wipes the remainder of sleep from her eyes.

"Sorry. I was not paying attention," Wendy mutters, spinning around so she is not facing him. Two minutes pass and she cocks her head just a little to see if he is done yet. He is just beginning to pull on the shirt. Wendy gasps, a deep blush coming to her cheeks. He does look quite able-bodied, she ponders. Do not ruminate over such things! She spots a thin scratch running across his collarbone.

"Are you injured?" Wendy inquires. Peter glances at his chest.

"No, one of the Indians didn't believe I was really who I said I was and then all of them tried to kill me," Peter laughs, as he straightens out the sleeves.

"How awful!"

"Not really. They ripped my shirt and they found the scar that Hook had given me. They accidentally speared me and it was reopened." Wendy has to do something. She walks up to him, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm fine, Wendy, don't worry."

"If you say so," Wendy whispers, tracing the scratch. She sees Peter's jaw tighten out of the corner of her eye. His eyes stare straight into hers – why is he looking at her so? She removes her hand and he begins to button the front up. "The clothes fit you nicely."

"Yeah, they do. Thanks again."

"You're welcome," Wendy whispers, sitting at the edge of the bed. She wants to say so much, but she does not know where to begin. Her head feels so heavy at the moment. She twists her finger around her hair indecisively as she ponders over what to do. Her gaze remains on Peter, a few feet away from her. The light from the candle lights half his face, while the other is in shadow. He is standing with his hands folded carelessly on his hips, waiting for something to happen.

"Is Neverland still the same?" Wendy asks. She does not want to ask him this question; rather she wants to discuss why he left in the first place with her cousins in tow. She does not want to scare him off, so much that he will never come back. She keeps replaying that nightmare she had the night before. Peter lights up and begins to retell everything that happened in Neverland. He unsheathes a pretend sword and begins to brandish it gallantly.

"It's not the same, not the same at all. It's not as beautiful as it used to be. And, get this - all the Indians are growing up. There's a small graveyard where the Elders are buried. I barely recognized Tigerlilly. She's really pretty now. It was so different and confusing." Wendy rolls her eyes when he mentions Tigerlilly. A slight pang of something pierces her heart. It is the overwhelming feeling of jealousy. He still is fond of her? "The kids had a good time, though. The day went really slow, it seemed. We left in the early afternoon because Eliza wanted to come home."

"Did you want to come home?" Wendy interrupts, keeping her gaze on Peter. She leans forward to hear him; he does not answer.

"I wanted to stay a little longer, but the children insisted, so I took them back."

"I worried about you and my cousins," Wendy states. Peter runs his hand through his damp hair, walking over to the flame.

"You didn't have to. We were safe." He attempts to put his finger through the flame, a feat all of the boys have tried before, but flinches at the sudden warmth of it.

"I did not know that, Peter," she persists, her voice serious. "Maybe, you could've run out of fairy dust and fallen to your deaths. Tinkerbell came back, did she not? And you had to go because you missed Neverland. I thought you forgot about it. You started a new life here…in London."

"I didn't miss it," Peter shoots back. "Yes, Tink did return, but your cousins wanted to go…not me. I tried to stop them, but they flew away and I had to go after them. I was going to bring them back, but it was already too late."

"Is that what happened? You could have alerted me before you decided to go off gallivanting about the skies! They are only children, Peter. You cannot give into them so easily. I've lived with eight boys and they need reprimanding for anything slapdash they have done." Both teenagers sound like a married couple, fighting over some petty problem.

"I've lived with the boys longer than you've had. Don't you think I scolded them for doing something they weren't supposed to do?"

"No, and besides, that was only pretend. I really cannot believe you. You do not know what it was like to run up here and find neither my cousins nor you. I – I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say to my parents or any of the other guests."

"You told your parents?" Peter cries out.

"Yes, I did, and for good reason. I had to tell the truth, even if they did not believe it at first! My aunt knows too. I did not tell your parents or Aunt Lillian and Uncle Frederick. I told them you would return soon. My parents have lost their trust in you and me…and they are discussing my potential marriage to Philip Winston."

"What?! Your marriage to Philip Winston? I'll cut his throat before he takes you as his wife!" Peter announces in a rage.

"I'm afraid killing someone won't do any good," Wendy answers. There is silence; Wendy hears the unmistakable creaking of a door. She flies to the end table, extinguishing the candle quickly. "Someone's coming!" she prattles in a hushed tone. "Hide on the other side of my bed." Wendy climbs underneath the covers, pulling them over her head. Peter grabs his wet clothes and towel and scrambles to the other side. He crouches to the floor, staying as silent as possible and hopes his beating heart will not break the quiet air of the room. He bends his body even more to the carpet when he hears Wendy's door open slowly. Peter stops breathing, as does Wendy. It is so dark, Peter does not know who comes in. Wendy knows. It is Mary, coming in to check on her daughter. She closes the window and pats Wendy's head lightly, before glancing at the smoke curling up from the quenched candle. Peter regains his breath when she leaves and stays a minute or two on the floor before he deems it safe.

Wendy turns over in bed and Peter springs to his feet. She sits cross-legged in bed, trying to see something in the dark. Outside, the night clouds are growing thinner and thinner until the moonlight streams into the room. The rain is beginning to lessen; Wendy can recognize Peter in the darkness.

"I'm sorry for hurting you. I shouldn't have let the children go. I forgot how much I'd change everyone's outlook on me," Peter apologizes.

"Why did you come back in the first place, Peter? What made you return?" Wendy whispers. Her voice is low and sounds weary.

"Why do you ask?"

"You never told me. And… I am starting to believe that perhaps, you shouldn't have left Neverland at all. Perhaps, you weren't meant to grow up." Wendy's voice falters as fresh tears impair her vision. She did not want to say it, but she did. Peter has such a carefree nature, that he is better off in Neverland because the real world is not doing much good for him. She bites her lip; someone brushes her tears away. She looks up and Peter is right in front of her, watching her with solemn, yet brilliant eyes.

"I left because I wanted to be with someone. I missed her a lot, and I knew she wouldn't come back to live with me. She wanted to grow up, so I did too…Maybe, I wasn't supposed to leave Neverland, but I did it for her. I wanted to prove that I could grow up and become a man…because…I think I'm in love with her." Wendy listens to everything he has to say, touched by the words he tells her. He says it so sincerely, that Wendy finds it hard to accept that he is the same person. She is struck full force by his last words; he thinks he is in love. Wendy feels her palms growing damp; she realizes they are clasped together in anxiety.

Suddenly, she feels like she is committing a most shameful sin. A teenage boy in love should not be in her room in the middle of the night…it is not ladylike, it is not even accepted! No, but this is Peter. Peter is a gentleman. "Wendy?" His voice sounds closer. "I'm talking about you."

"I – I know." Wendy peers up at the young man, who is gazing directly at her. "Perhaps, you should be going home now." She bites her tongue after she says this; she does not know what has come over her. Her heart seems to beat a little less fast.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Peter snaps. He gets to his feet, obviously very irritated. "I'm saying that I think I'm in love with you, and all you say is I have to go home? I did all this for you, Wendy!" His voice is quite loud, but Wendy makes no mention to lower it. Peter is on the other side of the room; he cannot see the numerous tears running down Wendy's cheeks. She wipes them away, but she is still sniffling profusely.

"I don't know, Peter. All this…is very unexpected." She gets up from her bed, her blue eyes now red from weeping. Everything is so baffling; she leans her head against the cool windowpane. She does not hear Peter come behind her. He reaches for her hand; his touch sends shivers up and down Wendy's arms. She turns around to face him slowly, sorting out everything she wants to say to him. He looks betrayed in a way. His eyes are glazed over from unshed tears.

"Do you love me?" His voice is barely a whisper. He is so close to her; she shuts her eyes against his gaze, wondering if all of this has been a crazy dream. Peter Pan never grew up and she was to be married to Philip Winston. She never saw him again. She can still feel his grasp on her hand, though, which forces her back to reality.

He did this all for you. It is possible for Peter Pan to grow up, a voice tells her. The Pan has indeed aged, to be with her. Butterflies flutter in her stomach when she realizes how much he devoted his time to being with her once again. "I do. I love you very much, Peter Pan." The words escape her lips; she opens her eyes to see Peter beginning to smile triumphantly.

"Might I give you a kiss?"

"If you must," Wendy responds, holding her palm out. She waits for Peter to deposit a thimble or acorn into her hand, but all he does is stare at it in amusement. "What ever is the matter?"

"No, silly. I mean - a real kiss." His whole expression has changed; he looks so much like an adult. Wendy wipes her palm on her robe and folds her hands.

"Oh," she chuckles, looking at the carpet. Her heart is caught in her throat and she cannot find her breath anymore. "All right." Peter tips Wendy's chin up gently. She sees that he is nervous. He stoops down and Wendy can feel his breath on her lips. He hesitates and a small smile graces his mouth. Wendy cannot remember the last time she kissed him. Was she this nervous when she did it? All thoughts disappear from her mind when she feels his lips touch hers lightly. An inopportune gasp from Wendy shatters the moment and she moves her head away, her face already red from discomfiture.

"Did I do something wrong?" Peter asks worriedly.

"No, no. You just startled me, that's all," Wendy stammers. Pull yourself together, Wendy!

"Shall I try again?" Peter bends down once again after Wendy nods. His lips fall on hers promptly and she nearly swoons. Her eyes close as he kisses her ever so gently. Wendy feels Peter's hands slip around her waist, and he draws her to him in a passionate embrace. Wendy opens her mouth in surprise and Peter deepens the kiss with much fervor. She can feel his warmth seeping into her and her hands clasp around his neck. When they finally break apart, she feels dizzy and she buries her head into his shoulder. Her lips are numb; Peter's are also. She tries to catch her breath and raises her eyes up to his. He is not smiling, but she knows he is happy. He captures her in another kiss, his arms tightening about her. He does not want to seem to stop, but Wendy knows they must. Just the way he kisses her suggests to Wendy that he is not as innocent as he was years ago.

"Good-bye, Wendy-lady," he murmurs to her at the window, five minutes later. He has never forgotten his nickname for her. He is perched on the ledge, and Wendy is by him, looking warily below.

"Are you sure you will make it home safely?"

"I shall make it home fine. My house isn't too far away."

"Good night, boy," Wendy teases as Peter plants a kiss on her cheek.

"Sleep well." With that, he rises from the window into the air as light as a feather, carried away by the wind. He spirals higher and higher, shooting like a star across the silent houses. Wendy sighs in ecstasy as she pulls the curtains over the window. As soon as her head touches the pillow, she is dreaming of spreading her wings and soaring off through the London smog to the stars.

Author's Note: Was it too cheesy? I thought it was okay. Wendy went from happy to angry to sad to happy again all in a matter of a few sentences. Ah, well, I tried my best. Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year! Can you believe it is going to be 2005? Review if you choose and tell me your thoughts. Finally, Peter and Wendy romance! Don't you just love it? My brain is devoid of any ideas, so if you'd like to share any suggestions for next chapter, please do! Bye!