Three.

Father's face is that of confused happiness. You know that kind that you get on your very first Christmas? That's what he looks like. Mother has got a huge smile on, and Michael and John are ecstatic. I explained the whole thing to them. From the ad I placed in the newspaper, to Peter's stolen shoes and coat. They swallow it whole. Mother tuts about the thievery in London, as father shakes Peter's hand eagerly.

"I'm Mr. Darling!" father exclaims, never letting go of the hand.

"I'm Peter." He smiles.

I suddenly realize that Peter is not in the possession of a real surname. "Peter Pan—"

Just as he is about to finish off his name, I clap a hand over his mouth.

"PETER PANSTON!" I scream. All eyes are on me. My hand is still on Peter's mouth. "Oh…" I mumble, and remove it slowly. Peter gives me a confused look, which is followed by that sneaky one he got whenever he knew something the others didn't… this was all a game to him…

"Yes, well. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Panston." Father grins. "Now, how about I show you your room, we'll set it up, and uh, talk about your terms, shall we?"

"Oh… Yes, sure." Peter looks to me for help.

"I'll get the linens for you, Mr. Panston." I say rather quickly.

"Oh, no dear. You'll set up for tea." Mother's talking.

"But…. Uh… Niugh…" I really can't think under pressure. Not to mention the sounds I produce from it. "Fine…" I mutter, as Peter and father ascend the staircase together. Hmm… Peter really does have a great figure…OH.

Mother gives me an all knowing look when she catches me staring at Peter. I don't think I could be any redder… Mother smiles and walks to get some bed clothes for the guestroom. As soon as she's out of sight, I bolt upstairs. Down the hall, and…

In the guestroom, I see Peter, standing beside the window. Father is no where to be seen… I enter quietly, and tap Peter on the back. He gives a slight jump, and turns around. I startled him. His eyes fix on mine, and all of a sudden, his nose is nearly touching mine. "Oh!" I breathe, while Peter stays deathly quiet. He is too close… But, my God, I'm enjoying every second of it…

"I still love you, you know…" Peter whispers, as his lips nearly brush mine… I can feel the heat between us. I just want to leap at him, seize those wonderful lips and—

"Wendy, darling!" Father nearly skips in the room. He is holding a block of paper and a pen.

"Father…" I smile. Wait. How did I end up on the other side of the room, when just a second ago, I was ready to be taken away by Peter… Oh, my.

Father stands in the middle of the room, and says a collection of words. I don't understand them… I am far too dazed. And Peter doesn't understand them just because… He's Peter. The entire time, I can't take my eyes off of him. He's so perfect… Those arms, those long legs, that smile.

"Wendy? Are you alright? Do you need the salts again?" Mother's voice broke my thoughts.

"Oh… No… Not the salts…" I said, smiling like a loon…