Adore

Written: February 2002

Disclaimer: Don't own, for these children are that of Sir James Barrie. Rock on, man!

Dedication: To my very favorite author in the whole cyber world: Vegetas-Princess! Go read her stuff and tell her how great she is!

Author's note: All you need is faith, trust, and pixie dust!

Adore

By Pedal

For the fourth try, Wendy slashed down on the file with the wood. To her surprise and relief, the tip of it ignited beautifully, illuminating the whole room. Behind her, Peter sighed in his sleep from under his cap that had fallen on his face. Careful not to disturb him, Wendy lifted off the hat and hung it neatly on a root of one of the trees. Quickly remembering the torch in her hand, she gracefully dropped it into the fireplace before any damage could be done.

It was just like Peter to fall asleep in his chair rather than his bed, so like a boy. Wendy smiled sweetly at him, then sat down in her own chair, a rocking one that the boys had made for her. She tended to the sewing next to her, for it tonight it was making a pocket on one of Slightly's outfits.

Yet another noise came from behind her, but this time it was not that of a light child's sigh; it was faint cry. Wendy set down the work. It would have to wait.

"Peter? What is it? Peter," her light voice said, almost as a whisper. Again, Peter cried out, louder this time. Just before she advanced a step further, he tumbled to the floor with a thud. "Peter," she repeated, no longer caring about her volume. His chest heaved greatly, as if he were ill. The breaths from his mouth drew longer, but quieter. They shuddered until he sounded terribly afraid of something. This was the first time of many he'd done this while she and her brothers were there.

The only thing Wendy could think of to comfort him was a kiss. Not the sorts with thimbles and acorn buttons, but a real kiss. Kneeling down even closer to his side, her head bent down until her lips met his right cheek, just on the corner of his own lips, which were parted a bit. His brown eyes fluttered open to see her blue ones looking down upon him.

A deep crimson spread across his face as his eyes widened and he scooted backwards a couple of feet. "Um...I was having a bad dream..."

"Yes, I could tell," she answered, looking down at her hands. "Can you not sleep then? I'd love it if you stayed up for a little while, so we could chat." A mother would have sent the boy straight back to sleep, in his own bed for that matter. We must remember though, that Wendy is only a young girl, and shan't know any better.

"Love? Does that mean something bad?" His worried face soon turned to one of betrayal. "You're gonna make me go to bed, aren't you?"

"Of course not, Peter! Don't you know what love means?"

"No." As if he sounded proud, he stood from the floor and cockily placed his fists on his hips. Glancing back down at Wendy, who was still on the floor looking rather discontented, Peter offered her his hand.

With a pout, she accepted it and wiped some dust from her nightgown once on her feet. "Then I shall tell you. Please do sit down." She gestured to the largest chair to her left and his right, that was made from sticks and bones and had pillows stuffed with neverbird feathers. Both of them were small enough to fit in it, side by side.

"First, I will tell you about the kind of love you can have for your mother or father or friends. When you know people you cannot imagine living without, there is a feeling to explain that, that is love. For an example, I'm sure you love the lost boys and Tinkerbell."

"Then I love you, too."

"Let me finish, Peter. The other kind of love is most delightful. It's just like the other, only for one person. You always think about them and always want to be around them. It's...a tad difficult to explain." As she said all this, Peter was listening intently to every word from her. Finally, when she paused, he cocked his head to the side. "What is it" she uttered in confusion when he looked even closer still at her, switching his gaze from one of her eyes to the other and back. As he did this, a grin crept up on his face.

"I love you, Wendy."

"And I love you, Peter Pan."

Their foreheads rested on one anothers', and their hands intertwined. Moving forward an inch or so, Wendy kissed him, on the lips this time, but only for less than a second. He returned it for a little longer, wrapping his arms around her as he did so.

And they fell asleep in front of the fire. But only a small number of words were said before they did, "I'm really starting to like these thimbles..."