Disclaimer:  I don't own any of it.

Moonlight Conversation

          The young, dark haired girl stared hard into the Neverland night as she walked, oblivious to the beauty around her.  She had been out this late on many occasions, usually leaving after the last of the boys was fast asleep, and not returning until the air began to lose the heady scents of the delicate Never-Night blossoms--the first sign of dawn.  She had come out, before, to revel in the untamed magic of Neverland at night, to taste moonbeams and starlight, to make friends with the puckish pixies that collected Never-Night plants for use in all manner of concoctions, to take solace in the quiet after days filled with particular heartache....

          Recently she had been taking long strolls, for the sole purpose of committing every detail of Neverland to memory--the way the moonlight so softly pooled in the dips and curves of the land, splashing at her toes as she strode along, and shimmering behind her in a long trail of footprints...the sound of the cool and sleepy wind tickling the towering treetops, and the haunting strains of siren-song riding the steady whisper of the waves along the coast....

          This night, however, she was going out with a purpose she'd never before dreamed of fulfilling. 

          Coming to a sudden halt, she dropped to her knees and focused her gaze on a little yellow glimmer that shone just brighter than the moonlight.

          "Do you want to talk?"

          She was not yet fluent enough in the language of the fairies to know precisely what the little sprite had said, but from the sound of it, it would not have been something that she'd dare repeat.

          "You really don't need to be like that, Tinkerbell," she said sadly.  "I didn't come here to fight."

          The fairy pulled her arms tighter around her stomach and turned even farther away from Wendy.

          The girl bit her lip, briefly wondering why she'd bothered.  But the slight tremor in Tinkerbell's shoulders restrengthened her resolve. 

          "I thought you might want this, at least," she said.

          Tinkerbell looked sharply at Wendy's outstretched hand.  Snatching the tiny square from her finger, she promptly buried her face in it and turned away again.

          "Oh..." Wendy sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees, "We have something in common, you and I..."

          Tinkerbell glanced up from the handkerchief in her hands and the dark-eyed girl gave her a rueful look.  "He'll never look at either of us the way we wish he would."

          The blonde fairy tried for a glare, but the tears in her eyes spoiled the effect, and Wendy sighed again. 

          "At least you'll always have him.  It won't be long before he forgets about me completely.  And...you're both vain and selfish.  Beautiful and utterly unreachable....you and he are a far better match than he and I...."

          Tinkerbell stared at the fairy-sized handkerchief in her hands, and noticed for the first time the spider web-lacework around the edges and the delicate T embroidered into the corner.  She looked sharply at Wendy again, but the human girl was staring far off into the night, her eyes as vacant and miserable as the pixie's heart.

          "I plan on leaving soon," the girl whispered.  "I would stay forever....I want to stay forever.  But I know I can't.  Neverland won't let me forget.  Not like the boys.  And so long as I remember what lies behind me, I can't stay...."

          A girl-sized handkerchief appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and Wendy dabbed discreetly at her eyes as she stood. 

          "Oh, but I am being silly...I should be darning socks, or cleaning dishes or....those poor boys...what are they going to do without a mother?"

          She started walking back towards the tree house, back perhaps a little straighter than it should have been, and head a bit too high.

          A soft tinkling sound made her pause.

          "Thank you," Wendy understood her to say.  "for the handkerchief."

          "I...you're welcome, Tinkerbell.  Good night."

          "Good night," came the faintest of replies.  And Wendy smiled softly as she began the trek home.  She knew what those words had cost the fairy--just as hers had cost her.  And it wasn't much....

          But it was a start.

          And now, with the musky night air filling her lungs, and the touch of a million unfamiliar stars seeping into her heart, she thought that perhaps things weren't as melancholy as they had been a night, or even an hour before.

A/N: I would be very grateful for constructive criticism and reviews--they help a lot!  The title is currently tentative--if you have a suggestion for a better one, let me know.