Chasing Neverland

After surviving mainly off of unidentified meats that she assumed were squirrel and small rabbits, she was happy that her food would be prepared in front of her and explained. Peter woke her in the late afternoon, but the Lost Boys were not inside their den. He shook her awake and gave her a soft smile. She was surprised to see him standing in what were more than likely a pair of underwear.

“Peter, my God!” Willow gasped. “Put some clothes on!”

He let out a deep laugh and yanked her up by her arm. “Nonsense; who ever heard of bathing with clothes on your body?”

“You have a bath?”

“No, there is no tub.”

“A shower?”

He smiled. “Not exactly. We bathe in streams. Well, I do.”

“What do you mean by YOU?”

Peter grinned and lifted her up around her waist, quickly flying them out of their hideout and a short distance away to a flowing stream that she had overlooked the day before.

“The boys don't bathe often; they find it pointless.”

Willow stood with her night gown dirty and clinging to her body. Peter stepped into the soft flowing creek and began to soak himself in the lukewarm water. Willow stood awkwardly, too shy to watch him bathe. He stopped abruptly, beads of water clinging to his toned chest.

“The Redskins will be offended if you show up like that.”

She looked at the dirt under her nails and sticking to her night gown. “What do you expect me to do?” she asked. “It's not as if I packed a bag with clothing in it.”

Peter stared. “Take off your clothes.”

“Excuse me!”

“It's the only way to get yourself clean. We have other garments you can put on.”

“I'm not wearing a slip made of foliage.”

He began to laugh and stepped out of the creek. In a moment of strange intimacy, he pressed himself close to her body and grasped the hem of her night gown. He began to pull it upward, over her head. Willow did not resist, but she covered her breasts in embarrassment once he had removed it.

“Bathe with me, Willow,” he said in a husky voice, taking her hand in his and pulling her towards her stream. She followed him easily, entranced by his intimacy.

Peter began to scoop water in his hands and pour it over her chest. Eventually, she dropped her arm and let him help her. Strangely enough, it didn't seem as if Peter even noticed the intimacy of her nude breasts being exposed to him. It was as if he didn't realize it was unusual.

“Can you manage on your own?” he asked in a quiet voice, beginning to resume bathing himself.

Willow did not respond, but she began to bathe herself in silence. After they had helped each other wash their backs, they stepped out of the creek and began to soak their clothing in the warm water, allowing their skin to air dry. Once they finished scrubbing the dirt out of their clothes, Peter scooped her up in his arms, immune to the feeling of her breasts pressed tightly against his warm chest.

He then flew back to the hideout and lowered her onto the floor with ease. He told her that he was going to hang their clothing on a vine that they used as a clothes line outside of the hideout to dry. He then instructed her to dress in the gown that lay on the bed. Willow shivered as he left, realizing how chilly it was underneath the ground. When she saw the gown, she was surprised.

Obviously, it was made of organic materials and possibly the skin of some sort of cattle, but it was finely crafted and there were beads sewn into the fabric in a fascinating swirling pattern. She pulled it over her head, and it held her a little too tight around her bust and hips, but it made her feel secure and, well, CLOTHED. She smoothed it out and twisted her slightly cleaner hair up into a bun, thankful for the hair tie and bobby pins that had been securing her hair that night she had disappeared.

She was just pinning one of her curls back when Peter dropped into the hideout, still mostly in the nude. He gave out a droned whistle, like he was impressed.

“Chief said that it would fit you well, but I didn't think it would look that good.”

Willow turned, a pin between her lips. He came over to her and plucked it from her mouth. He gave her a curious look. “What is this thing?”

“Bobby pin.” She took it from him and pinned her curl back.

Peter shook his head and moved into the back room for a moment. When he emerged, he wore another costume of the same, except he had a bear pelt vest thrown over his shoulders.

“Do you feel you are ready to head to the feast?” he asked her softly.

Willow nodded her head, and Peter lifted her up into his arms. He lowered her onto the grass outside the hideout and gave a loud whistle by placing his fingers on the sides of his inner mouth. Promptly, the six Lost Boys filed in front of him, their hands saluting Peter like little soldiers reporting for duty. He gave a nod, which caused each boy to lower their hands into an at-ease position.

“Boys, we are invited to feast with the red men,” he told them. “We will fly there!”

A chorus of cheers rung out from the boys, but the one called Slightly raised his hand and asked, “But Peter, what about Wendy? She can't fly.”

Willow tried to ignore the obnoxious name they all seemed convinced to replace hers with, but Peter would not overlook it. He corrected him promptly.

“Her name is not Wendy, and I will carry her as I have before. Do I make myself clear?”

They glanced at Willow sheepishly and nodded with soft murmuring amongst them. Almost immediately after, the bright fluttering light that was named Tinkerbell flittered over the boys, sprinkling a dust onto their heads that sparkled and danced in the light. Slowly, they began to raise off of the ground, grinning happily. Peter scooped her up without warning and began to rise higher off the ground.

From the corner of her eye, Willow watched the light change shade to red and act in a manner that one could say resembled something like anger or jealousy.

---

When they arrived near the Indian's village, they all lowered to the ground, and Peter set Willow on the soft dirt and grass below. She smoothed her skirt once more and pushed her shoulders back, intent on not letting the beautiful young Indian girl from dampening her spirits. After all, she was just glad to be getting some real food into her belly that had once had a pulse. She was sick and tired of bananas, and one could only eat so many mangoes before they began to feel weary, but at least she wouldn't die of scurvy!

“Remember,” Peter whispered to them all, “you mustn't disrespect the men.”

“We have to be good, and eat what they give ups, and we gotta dance when they dance, and be quiet when they talk,” Slightly announced in triumph, the ears on his fox hood bobbing slightly.

Nibs perked up, the gray of his rabbit firs ruffling in a soft sea breeze. “And answer when they ask you's a question.”

“That's right, boys,” Peter said triumphantly, his chest blowing up in a proud way.

Tootles, the young black-haired boy, who was really the only Lost Boy who had been stolen, reached his chubby hands up at Willow in a way that a small child would at his mother, begging to be carried. Instinctively, Willow bent forward and scooped him up, holding him close to her bosom. He smiled up at her and touched a strand of hair that had fallen free and was beginning to curl.

“He really is sweet,” Willow whispered to Peter as they came closer to the large billows of smoke coming from the village – if you could call it that.

Peter nodded, and placed a hand on her lower back, his feet padding softly on the dirt below. “He doesn't talk, but we know he can.”

“How do you know?” Willow, very interested, asked.

“He wailed for his mother the first while he was here,” Peter said simply, before he crowed in that strange way that resembled a rooster, and the subject was dropped.

However, Toodles looked up at Willow with his questioning eyes, and she realized that for her, the subject would never be “dropped”; her desire to find out about this mute boy's home would never fade, until she knew why Peter had picked this innocent child, out of all of the others out there.

Yet, the show must go on.

So, with a heavy heart, Willow let Peter lead her towards into the camp, where the Lost Boys were already giving their greetings and chattering with some of the younger Indian men about weapons and God knows what other devious things.

Tiger Lily sat up straight and gave a beaming grin to Peter. However, when she saw Willow standing in a familiar-looking gown, looking stunning, she narrowed her eyes and the smile dropped from her face. She didn't look quite as beautiful with a glum expression on her face, but that was just fine with Willow. After all, she wasn't looking to be out-shined.

“Peter!” Tiger Lily cooed, “Oh, Peter!”

He let his hand drop from the small of Willow's back and he stepped forward, one of his arms folding behind his back in a regal manner. He gave a slight bow and slipped her a sweet smile.

When she slipped her arm into the crook of his, Tiger Lily shot a triumphant look to Willow. The attitude in it was so evident that Willow suddenly felt very awkward and isolated. However, Nibs suddenly turned from where he was chatting with some of the Indian men and ran to Willow, reaching out for her hand. When she gave it to him, he pulled her over to where men were standing over a wooden makeshift table. A large spread of food sat there for her to indulge herself.

“Eat,” Nibs told her encouragingly. “Go ahead; they won't mind.”

An older Indian man stood beside the table with a stern look on his face, however when Willow gave him a glance, his expression changed to one of happy encouragement. Warily, she began to eat a piece of fruit that may have been a Guava or some foreign melon. Either way, it was a nice change from bananas. Then, happily, she smelled cooking meat form behind her. She turned to see a hog roasting over the large bonfire.

Eventually, she witnessed two thick-armed Indian men hoist the hog from the smoking pole and slap it down on a wooden table that was much too close to the ground for Willow's tastes. However, once they began to slice into the meat of the hog and she smelled the popping grease and cooked fat, she was sold. It was quiet while everyone was served and ate. Willow managed to have three servings of meat, and just for added measure, she went back for some more of the strange melon she'd eyed earlier.

Ones all of the peoples' had been fed and the Lost Boys were licking the grease from their chubby childish fingers, the Indian men began to beat their drums and chant. Willow watched, mesmerized, as their voices rolled together over the notes. She was embarrassed when the Indian men and women began to dance in a fashion that seemed very strange to her ignorant mind. Eventually, she watched the boys be swept up in the prancing and repetitive shuffling that was their dancing.

When Tiger Lily stood and stepped up onto the stump of a tree near the fire, Willow's guard immediately flew up. Slowly, she began to spin and roll her hips back and forth. One arm twisted up over her head, and the other moved around her body in an entrancing way. Peter stepped forward into the chain of dancing men, women, and young boys. He pranced over to where Tiger Lily stood upon that tree stump and began to twirl around her, whistling in a low, impressed way.

When she leaned forward to rub noses with Peter, Willow had to look away. What kind of guy kidnaps a girl to be his “wife”, then blatantly flirts with some beautiful Indian woman who has obviously known – and had feelings for – him for longer than maybe Willow had been alive!

Eventually, the gathering died down, and Peter was no longer so close to the lucid body of Tiger Lily. However, the young Indian princess did carry a triumphant smile until the final closing of the evening, when Peter bowed to the chief and thanked him greatly for his hospitality.

On their way home, the Lost Boys flew off ahead of them, their giggles floating back on the silent night air. Willow, her hip pressed close to Peter's by his arm, felt a lump in her throat that made her both want to throw up and scream at the same time. It was ridiculous for him to paint some strange idea of love and fairy tales into her head, then to blatantly be entranced by some young girl's beauty right in front of her! However, Peter didn't seem to think anything was wrong with his actions.

He set her on the ground in front of the hideout. “I enjoyed myself tonight.”

She shuttered, her arms chilled by the evening breeze. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“What do you mean?” Peter looked down into her face. “Didn't you have a good time?”

“No, I didn't.” She turned from him, looking up into the twisting galaxy of stars.

He stepped closer to her, to where she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Willow, tell me why you didn't enjoy yourself. Please.”

She sighed. “You were all over Tiger Lily, okay?”

“What?” Peter let out a pleasant laugh. “She is nothing to me!”

“That didn't look like 'nothing' to me.”

It was then that Peter pulled Willow towards himself. She tried to fight back and break from his arms, but he was stronger than he looked, and eventually, she just allowed herself to lean into him. They stood there silently for a few minutes, the only sound the croaking of nocturnal animals and the giggles of young boys coming from underfoot.

“She's ready to marry, you know,” Peter said simply.

Willow froze, and she felt that same lump in the back of her throat.

“Her father has tried to marry her off twice before, but she has always found a way to break the unity. She wants me as her husband, but I'm not one of them. I am not a Redskin, and I am not in love with her. I'm in love with Wendy.”

Willow turned to look at him, which is when he said, “You. I'm in love with you.”

“You don't even know what love is,” she whispered, breaking away from his arms.