Wendy absentmindedly followed Ranvir's directions to the itchiest spots on his head as she started a new book. It was a good one, full of fantasy and some really great satire. The heroine left something to be desired, but that was a purposeful choice on the author's part, she believed, making a parody of the "damsel in distress" trope. Wendy, for her own part, prided herself on being able to rescue herself from any situation. This may have been a product of the adventures of her childhood, but it had served her well. The comfy leather chair, her own, sat at the window of the cozy Brighton apartment. They were just close enough to the ocean to smell it in the air and glimpse it through other buildings, but neither she nor Alice had the money for an apartment right on the shore when they'd become roommates. Now at least Wendy was more affluent, but she never knew with Alice. Regardless, the neighborhood suited her and Ranvir just fine, and she'd rather have a bigger book budget than a bigger apartment any day. Besides, it was only a fifteen minute walk or so to the shore, faster if she rode her bike.

She had been sent home for a long weekend by the owner of the bookstore, as the annoying woman wanted to rearrange all the sections yet again. Which meant that yet again, come Monday morning, Wendy would have to go through the aisles and commit to memory where everything had been moved, because it was certain the owner wouldn't. But it was a beautiful Thursday afternoon and the breeze was delightful through the open windows. Summer was just turning into Fall and it was unseasonably warm and sunny. Her chair was too comfortable and walking seemed too strenuous, so the beach was a distant thought. Ranvir, too, read his book of choice, but he used an ebook reader. He loved technology, and it was much easier for his paws anyway, so he and Wendy had regular rows about which medium was better, print or e-media.

Reaching out the hand that wasn't holding a book, and therefore depriving Ranvir who felt too masculine to whine about it, she grasped the teacup that had been sitting in a saucer on the table at her side. Like most of their dishware, the teacup was deceptively delicate--it had a chip or two, sure, but it had been dropped many times and still held its integrity. As well as a good cup of tea, which Wendy drank with a contented sigh. She liked her tea sweet, and the mixture of herbs and sugar helped her get through any day, rain or shine. Ranvir's cup was on the floor, empty. He liked coffee, but mostly because it annoyed Wendy to even see the coffeemaker in the apartment, much less smell it on a daily basis. It was peculiar that he could drink it at all, given his species as a Newfoundland/Rottweiler mix, but as a magical dog who could talk and read there were allowances made. For example, he insisted on a proper coffee mug for his caffeine fix but liked eating his food in a bowl, even if the bowl was set at his own place at the table.

Ranvir, having given her enough time in his opinion for introspection, announced, "I believe we should go on a walk."

"I haven't finished yet," she murmured, taking another sip of her tea. "I'm right in the middle of the good parts."

He rolled his eyes. Very effectively, too. Whole crowds had stood in wonder at his ability to convey human facial expressions. "It's always the good part, Wendy. And both of us could use the exercise. We went running yesterday, but you know if you aren't consistent with exercise even on lazy days you might start to show the effects of the chips and fish you like so much."

She glared at him over her book. "We run almost every day, Ranvir, I can skip a day to relax."

"Can you? Can you really?" His tone reeked of skepticism. "Come on. Up we go."

Wendy placed her teacup back into the saucer with an indignant clatter. "Fine. I'll finish this chapter and we'll go."

Alice giggled from her spot in the center of her small closet. She was situated atop a mound of clothing, picking through the mess. This morning her closet had been prim and organized, but after she got to it a vibrant rainbow of cloth scattered the floor. She was still in her pajamas, but she knew she would have to get dressed soon enough. She could do her work from home (and therefore in her pajamas) but she did want to go to the ocean today. Wonderful thing, the ocean. Makes you all topsey turvy and funny feeling, she thought as she looked through the pile under her feet and eventually grabbed up a small blue bathing suit with white trim around the bottoms of both parts. She slid it on quickly and grabbed for a pull over dress before departing her closet. Once back inside her room, she quickly turned off the large mushroom-shaped lamp that stood in the corner of the small room and made her bed, pulling the light orange sheets over the green duvet and running her hands over the carefully carved and whimsically twisted wood of the headboard. She loved her room deeply. It felt like home. Not the bossy home she grew up in, but her true home. Wonderland. Her bed reminded her of Hatter, with the wood twisting like his hair and the colors matching his hair and eyes. Her desk, of the March hair. It was deep gray with strange splotches of white and yellow, and stripped legs that matched his trousers. The lamps and fan reminded her of the various foods and potions of wonderland. Everything in meticulous detail, perfectly arranged to remind her of home.

After her minute of reminiscing, she quickly pulled her hair into a tight ballerina bun at the nape of her neck and departed her room for the outside for the first time that day (minus when she left for the shower, of course). The faint smell of salt calmed her as she strolled to the bathroom, grabbing her little bottle of sunscreen and a towel, as well as her phone in case of emergency. It was all she needed, really. Just a small trip to the beach after all. As she departed, she yelled hello into the house. She never said goodbye. She hadn't said goodbye in a long time. The word hadn't graced her lips since after her last go round to wonderland. Hello had sort of become her Aloha. Hello, and Goodbye (though she never would admit that. She preferred to think of it as a hello-space-saver. So the person wouldn't be left without a hello if she never came back. That way, she was greeting them even as she departed. Never have to say a final farewell that way). Still, she didn't bother to check to make sure anyone was in the house as she left though-- she never did. Even if there wasn't, the house needed a hello-goodbye too, right? In any case, if Wendy was in, she would need a hello too. Never any good to depart without a hello. That would be right and properly disrespectful. Just as she was about to close the door behind her, a raven colored tabby cat dashed through the door. She looked at it questioningly before leaning over and petting it, letting the cat curl though her legs and paw at her flip flops.

"Hello Cheshire. Wonderful day out isn't it? Would you like to go to the sea?" She asked as she began to skip, the cat right at her feet. She knew Chess would love to go to the sea- that was where she found him, after all. She had thought it was odd that a cat would be at the shore line of the sea, as they are known to hate water. She was never one to pass up anything odd, after all, so Chess became her cat. The trip was slow going, but they reached the shore in only about twenty minutes walking time. It was a slow day for the beach, but even then it was bustling with people. She made her spot near the shore and Chess immediately took to her towel, curling up in the sun. She rolled her eyes at him for even thinking about sleep when they were at the beach, but let it happen anyways as she pulled her coverup off and dove under the waves.

Once under the murky sea, she did what she always did. Let herself drift. She would dive and swim, her eyes closed. Swimming was her way of allowing herself to forget. Wonderland, her job, everything. She felt everything and nothing, all at once. Every memory, gone but at the same time present, disconnected from her like a film reel. Replaying her days with Wendy and with her mother, and especially her father. During the time the 'movie' played, she imagined her impossible things for the day.

One- Giant, fire breathing monsters live under the sea. They protect the earth, and their flames never extinguish.
Two- All the books Wendy has ever written are real. Everything in them, all the worlds. Everything.
Three- Cheshire is really the real Chess in disguise, and he's been watching me all this time
Four- I'm really still a little girl, and all of this was a dream. Wonderland, Wendy, the move here, everything.
Five- The water is actually earth and humans are supposed to live here, and the earth is really like the sea, fit for other creatures.
Six- Those men over there are poking Cheshire. Wait a second, Those men over there are poking Cheshire. With a stick!,.

All of it took her a moment to think about, but yes, there was a group of teen children poking her cat with a branch of a tree. Anger bubbled in Alice as she stormed up onto the beach, pushing the man at the center of the group away from her cat. Cheshire was in a tizzy, angry and hissing, but he seemed relatively unharmed.

"What do you think you are doing! Disrespectful bunch of ingrates!" She yelled as she picked up her cat and patted him, calming him carefully. The group looked over her in a way that made her feel slightly uncomfortable, but they said their apologies in time and all of them left but one.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry. I thought it was a stray. If I'd have known it belonged to you, I never would have messed with it," the man who insisted on staying said, and she fumed at him, grabbing the branch from his hands.

"So it being a stray means it's fine to hit it! Where is your owner then? If no owner of yours is around, it's perfectly safe to assume you are a stray, right?" she said with a twinkle in her eye as she raised the branch and lightly hit the boy on the side. She never would hurt him, as he was human and she could never kill a human, but she would teach him a lesson.

"No, no, I said I was sorry! I'll be off now, miss," The boy said as he began to back away from her. She simply scuffed and through the branch on the ground before laying on the towel with Chess, deciding to watch over him and sunbathe for a moment before she made her way back.

Their walk turned into a jog, as Wendy had assumed it would and had dressed appropriately. Ranvir loved to run, and like his mother firmly believed in the benefits of exercise for their human companions. The benefit of giving in to him when he insisted on such exercise was that he had no objections to stopping at the ice cream shop around the corner from their house. A rich chocolate chip cookie chunk ice cream was her leisurely enjoyed treat on the rest of the way back to the apartment. As usual, she picked up a small carton of Alice's favorite flavor as well. There was very little ruder, she thought, than enjoying such an excellent dessert without sharing it, especially on a beautiful day like today. Ranvir's carton, as he refused to make a mess of himself in the public sphere, also lay in her bag. Unlike the other foods unkind to dogs that Ranvir could and did eat, chocolate ice cream was not one of them. It made him quite vilely ill when he tried it out of stubborness, and he had since preferred strawberry frozen yogurt.

"A more healthful option, Wendy, you should consider switching to it entirely." He said as she carried the bag up the stairs to their apartment.

"Frozen yogurt is all well and good," Wendy scoffed, "But for decadent delights leave me my ice cream."

"A human lifetime--"

"Yes, yes, Ranvir, a 'human lifetime can be considerably lengthened by good diet and exercise.' You've said it before." Wendy unlocked the door and hurried inside, putting Alice's ice cream in the freezer. Ranvir's she scooped out in a bowl and placed it on the table, along with a glass of water.

"Thank you, my dear," Ranvir said, happily getting into his chair, lower than the rest, and beginning to lick his frozen yogurt.

Wendy sat across from him, finishing her own cone. The richness of the chocolate and cookie helped her ignore her sore muscles. but despite her contentedness something niggled in the back of her mind. Life was good, yes, and she was settled in her life, but she missed ... well, she missed magic, or at least the spice of an adventure somewhere new and fantastic. Wandering about town wasn't quite doing the trick anymore. There was always the small pouch of dust she kept at her bedside table, but that was for emergencies only, not to be wasted on such impractical things as a discontented heart. No. She could learn to live this way. Sighing, she took out a small pad and pencil that she always kept in her pocket and started fleshing out the world for one of her newer characters. Much more wonder this time, she thought. More of everything. Everything.. everything she herself was missing.

Alice and Cheshire sat together on the small towel protecting them from the sand, soaking in UV rays. Still, she knew she shouldn't stay out for much longer. She didn't want to sunburn and her pale skin burned quickly, even with sunscreen. So, she slowly packed her bags and grabbed up Cheshire before saying hello to the beach and walking away from it, shaking sand from her flip-flops as she did. When they got to concrete yet again, she set Cheshire down and let him walk with her as they made the stroll home. Cheshire never liked to be held. Besides, she fed the poor thing twice a day. If he didn't walk, he would be monstrous in weeks.

The walk home was beautiful, and she took her time to go into some of her favorite shops as she went by. She wasn't rich by any means, but she was a bit more well-off than she had been when she had gotten the apartment with Wendy. She could probably afford to live in a smaller apartment by herself now, what with the surplus of buyers for the trading company, but she never would. Wendy didn't seem to want to upscale or downscale (and Alice loved the setup of the house they had, anyway) and she would never dream of not having her as a roommate. Still, having extra pocket change meant she could stop and shop at some of the most whimsical spots in all of town, which was something she would never pass up.

Alice ducked into a small shop that would be easy to pass up by most people, and was immediately greeted by the noise of classical music hitting her ears. It was one of the shops she went to regularly that allowed pets in, so Cheshire jumped onto a small chair in the corner as she looked over the various items while dancing around to the music. Strange furniture littered the walls, broken shapes of dressers and bending lines that belonged to desks seemingly shaping into smiles as she walked. The owner of the little shop, an eccentric female with hair that was constantly frizzy greeted her from behind her desk and Alice greeted her back as she picked up a small glass figure in the shape of a crown filled with little glass chickens. She laughed at it and pulled the middle chicken, and the whole top of the structure opened to reveal a little music box.

"How do you come up with these things, Elane?" Alice said as she looked to the owner of the shop. The owners husband made all the furniture, but Elane was in charge of the glass work and lamps and such. They were a very talented pair.

"I don't know. Your stories help, Alice dear. You mentioned something about crowns and kings and walruses last week, I think it was, and well, I can't make a glass walrus!" the woman laughed as Alice smiled and replaced the top of the music box.

"Well then I must return later to tell you more! Oh I have many. Many. The story of the Walrus and the oysters, and the dodo and the talking doors," Alice said with a hint of longing as she walked to the door again, dinging the bell and walking back into the air. Cheshire walked with her back into the home quickly with a cheery pep in their steps, the way they always returned home. Cheshire collapsed onto the couch almost immediately and Alice followed suit, falling over and almost immediately falling into a catnap. She napped a lot- when there wasn't much to be done. Dreams are more interesting than wallowing in regular life, after all.

Wendy watched, amused, as both Alice and Cheshire Cat, in unison, collapsed on the couch for a nap. It reminded her of a story she'd written some months ago, where Alice had played the main role as a very curious cat who had fallen into some trouble with the Rat King. She supposed that if Alice was cat-like, did that make herself dog-like? She thought about it for a minute as Ranvir carried his bowl to the sink and then his glass, to rinse them out before putting them in the dishwasher. She was loyal, certainly, liked to run and willing to get the practical work done. Solid, true, noble (on occasion)... yes. She was a dog. A Wendy-dog. That didn't exactly sound like a good thing--she'd rather be more cat-like, as Alice was. Mysterious, aloof when necessary, whimsical... a romantic figure, all in all. She made a face. It was a good thing she was such good friends with Alice, because otherwise she would be quite jealous of those qualities, as well as her never-ending ability to see the wonder in a mundane world. Writing about it was quite different, she thought. It was very well and good to create endless magical worlds of adventure and excitement, and a skill quite separate to be able to see what Alice saw. But someone had to be the practical one, and as an eldest sister Wendy had long since accepted that role with resignation, if not quiet amusement.

Standing from the table, Wendy went back to her room to take a shower. Washing off all of the grime and the heat of the day was a wonderful thing. She'd always loved water, but she'd loved flight more. She'd thought about being a pilot, once, but the thought that only pure science kept such big birds in the air made her slightly nauseous. It was very contradictory of her, and she knew Alice would be amused by the thought (she loved contradictory truths) but as down-to-earth as Wendy was, she tended to mistrust pure science. Magic, in her mind, was still the trickiest devil in the world, but it was a familiar devil. Technology, especially ones that were the only thing keeping one from falling to one's death, struck a false note to her. Therefore, whenever she was forced to go on one, only a few times in her memory for vacations, she carried the little pouch with her.

Wrapping her long hair up into a towel, Wendy changed into a comfortable top and soft sleeping pants, with stars all over them. They'd been given to her as a gift two Christmases before, and were her favorite to wear around the house. She went back into the living room where Ranvir had taken up his position by the deep window seat with his ebook reader, far away from the cat, and picked up her own book. Before she opened it, she took her small pad from her pocket and jotted down a few notes. Alice-as-cat would be going on some new adventures, this time with a partner in crime of the canine persuasion. Putting it away again in a pants pocket, she opened the book at the bookmark and began once again to read one of her favorite books. They had just reached the castle, and...

Morning times were always the worse for Peter. Days that he awoke and still thought he was with the Lost Boys, days that he wanted to fling himself from wherever he happened to sleep that night and crow at the top of his lungs. Mornings was the time to celebrate new day filled with adventure, but not anymore.

Peters mornings now meant a mad scuffle to pack up his blankets into his dirt caked bag and hurry off to the homeless shelter for food. Mornings meant standing in line, his dirty red hair crusted with grime and soot, as he followed behind the old men in front of him for a free meal. Mornings meant that he had to look down at himself once more, see his too-short jeans that revealed his bare ankles, his dark green hoodie that no longer reached to his thin wrists- all the signs that pin pointed that he was growing.

Two Years.

Two years Peter had been surviving in the real world without the love and care of his dear Neverland. The Lost Boys had been abandoned, Tinkerbell was lost to him, and Captain Hook probably sailed his damned ship without a care in the world. For two years, Peter had longed for Neverland and dreamed of her blue waters, green tropical forests, and high mountainous peaks. He ached for his world so badly it hurt him physically; he sometimes found himself clutching at his chest in pain when he thought back to his glory days.

Now, all he did was survive and move and grow. He was already much taller then he had been in Neverland; lanky and thin. Someone (an old homeless lady with missing teeth) had once guessed him to be around 6’1 and though he really didn’t understand measurement, he knew that he had grown incredibly fast since he crash landed on this world. His hair grew now; he had to cut it to keep it from falling into his face. The color was no longer bright and vibrant; orange had turned into a mixture of red and brown. Thankfully his eyes still shone green, but they were now filled with sadness instead of the boyish excitement that once gleamed from their depths.

Peter was not made for this world and it showed in every movement he made and every line of his face.

He moved around the inner city of London, staying close to the shelters that offered him free food and occasional lodging. When he first arrived he would have scoffed at the idea of standing in line with a bunch of adults for a sorry cup of soup. He was caught many times for stealing, sent to jail, grew a record…but he was Peter Pan; King of Neverland and Ruler of the Lost Boys.

Then winter hit, a winter filled with snow and cold and shivering muscles. Peter had never experienced cold; Neverland was a place of perpetual summer. He starved the first week, got sick from sleeping outdoors in the snow, and a week later finally allowed the shelters to treat him and give him a place to sleep.

He looked for a job for a bit, but he couldn’t read and had no identification; he basically did not exist. After that, Peter gave up. This world was not made for him at all and he was not made for it.

He went about his same daily schedule without a second thought, following like a cow called to the slaughter house. Peter realized that his actions were causing him to age but he had long since decided that he did not want to remain young in a world he did not want to even live with. He couldn't even fly anymore; happy thoughts had left him. His shadow occasionally allowed Peter some company, but even controlling his shadow was difficult now.

---

---

Peter stared out att he harsh shoreline of the furious sea, his dark green eyes running along the rough waves as they toppled over each other in a mad rush for the shoreline. He imagined walking out into it, allowing the salty waters to envelope him and pull him back to his world of perfect blue waters and softy sandy beaches. He would see Tink again, the Lost Boys, maybe even Wendy awaited him in Neverland. SHe would be so confused if she arrived their and the King was gone....but she would also be confused if she ever saw him now.

He turned his head away, casting his vision down the ocean side road and banishing the thoughts of suicide and silly girls. Brighton was filled with beeping cars and loud tourists pointing and yelling; a great place to find a few scraps of food and a couple coins for a good bed. Tourists loved to throw money at him; he was once told he had the right look for pan-handeling. Sad, boyish looks that made people want to make him smile. Brighton was a tourists paradise and Peter would be taking advantage of that for a few days. With one last look towards the sea, he pulled his overfilled backpack over his shoulders and lopped across the street, striding right into the heart of the city to find a good spot to set of shop for the day.

"The tea is wonderful today, Hatter!" Alice smiled brightly as she stood on top of the table, holding her cup over the ruckus bellow her. The mouse was crawling over the tables and chairs with the hare behind him, holding the hare's watch.

"Thank you, Alice, and a happy happy un-birthday to you!" The hatter said, grabbing the stopwatch from the mouse and spreading peanut butter over the clock face in another attempt to get it working.

"You've said that five times, Hatter! But a merry unbirthday to you as well, I suppose!" Alice giggled and held her cup up high into the air in a toast before taking a long sip of the tea. It was herbal and nice-tasting and smelled like non-sentient flowers. Sentient flowers smelled just fine too, but they were horribly mean. After a moment, the hare and the mouse sat back into their seats and toasted their un-birthdays while Alice cheerily dodged the hare's cup-- which was thrown at her the moment the toast was over. Though, that didn't seem to last long, because after a moment they seemingly just disappeared into the nearby air. Alice, thinking it was them hiding for an un-birthday surprise party, looked under the table, but they were no where to be found.

"Hare? Hatter!?" she said with a hint of anxiousness to her tone, jumping up and down on the table she was standing at. But they were gone. She frowned and sat back down in her chair, looking around for them. But they weren't coming back, so she simply shut her eyes and waited for a moment. They did that sometimes- they wanted to surprise her and would just wait around until she played along. When she opened them, however, she wasn't in wonderland. She was sitting Indian style outside of the rabbit hole, which was filled in with dirt.

"No no no no nonononono," she said as she leaned forward and started to dig through the dirt covering the rabbit hole at a hectic pace. "Not happening, not happening. It's just a trick. Hatter! It's not fun any more! I'm not having a very good unbirthday!" her fingers began to be packed with dirt, but she didn't care.

Alice awoke with a start, her fingers still clutching at imaginary dirt and tears still staining her eyes. She looked around the room, still expecting herself to be outside of the rabbit hole. But no, she was at home. With Wendy. Suddenly she became very claustrophobic. She would go to her room, but she knew she couldn't. Wonderland was ingrained in the walls there. So outside it was.

"Wendy- I'm going out again. I'm just going to... I'm going to change," she said slowly, standing and walking to her room. She opened the door quickly and rushed to her closet, pulling it open and closed behind her. There was no way she could look at her room right now, not for longer than she had to. She pulled her clothing off at a hectic pace, the constant feeling she was going to be horribly sick filling her senses.

She changed into a simple yellow top with capped sleeves and blue jeans before pulling on a pair of sandals and rushing out of the room, going out of her window instead of out of the door. She couldn't face Wendy at the moment. She just couldn't. The questions would hurt. She grabbed her purse as she jumped out and rushed down the street, her face downcast. She walked for who knows how long, but she stopped about five minutes after she began when she ran into someone.

"I-I'm sorry. My minds somewhere else. It's in... it's somewhere in the stars," she mumbled, not wanting to say wonderland just yet. And wonderland wasn't really in the stars, of course, but in her mind it should be. It belonged in the heavens, not down in the dirt. As she looked up at the person, she suddenly became even more sad at her predicament. He looked, well, homeless. Matted dirty hair and clothing several sizes to small. She shook her head for a moment- how could she be sad about one of the best experiences in her life when there were people homeless out and about!

"Oh, you poor thing!" she said quickly as she looked him over. His face wasn't right, but his hair reminded her of the hatter. Not quite the correct shade of vibrant red, but his eyes were. Vibrant green. Missing the specks of gold though. Without her even truly knowing what she was doing, she raised her hand up and placed it on his cheek. She blinked a few times and even muttered "I missed you" before she realized that no, he was not the hatter. He was just a face on the street. She quickly drew her hand away and backed up a few steps and apologized more than once before she felt it was okay for her to talk to him again.

"I-I'm sorry. You reminded me of someone... someone I used to know," she said before looking at him sadly. "Would- Would you like to stay at my house for tonight? You look a bit... out of shape," and you remind me of him... I need someone to remind me of him, she almost added, but she didn't.

"It's just up the road. You can smell the sea. My roommate won't get in your way. Wendy just reads and writes a lot. She's real fun to talk to though... loves to tell stories. Sometimes we take turns telling each other stories!" she said, trying to make her home sound fun for him. "Never mind that. You can sleep on the couch. Come on hatter!" she said happily before grabbing his hand and turning. "Oh, sorry. I called you.. I called you the hatter just then, didn't I? I'm sorry, what is your name?" she said quickly, letting go of his hand. You let yourself go again, Alice. They aren't coming back. You aren't going back. You are here now. You live with Wendy and Ranvir and Cheshire, she thought as she brought herself back to reality.

Wendy blinked at Alice's quick disappearance, but it wasn't the first time one or the both of them had woken up in tears, usually due to their individual pasts. She had her own nightmares of Neverland, things she didn't think about even in daytime because they hurt too much, and there was too much of a grain of truth to them. She'd already had her heart broken once, and it had changed the way she looked at everything. No need to relive it more than necessary.

Sighing, she put down her book. Her mind hadn't gone anywhere fun, and that wasn't good for her concentration. She could read without concentrating, but that ruined her enjoyment of the tale. The sun was just starting to set, and they hadn't had dinner yet. "Craving anything in particular, Ranvir?"

Ranvir looked up from his book. "Mmm? Not really. Did you want to go out?"

"Most definitely," Wendy said, and put her book on the shelf. Going back to her room, she changed to a blue peasant top and her usual jeans and brown knee-high combat boots, with a brown leather jacket for when the temperature dropped more. Trainers were more her speed, but the boots were a recent splurge and they went beautifully with the jacket. Usually, if neither she or Alice wanted to cook they would go out together, pets and all, but with Alice's mood she was betting her roommate wanted to be alone. She would call her before they left wherever they were eating and get her something to go, if she wanted it.

"What about the pub down the street?" She asked Ranvir once she had brushed out her hair and swiped on some chapstick. "They don't mind you, and they have a pretty decent menu."

Ranvir looked disdainful. "Very greasy menu, you men."

"Hush up, you know they're not that bad. You just don't like it that they don't have any of your 'super foods,' like quinoa."

"One must keep one's figure, Wendy--"

"Yes, but one must not eat weird things to do so. C'mon, we haven't had a decent fish and chip for weeks, and we can always snack on veggies later."

He sighed. "Very well. But I will not be responsible if you die alone because you've blown up like a dumpling."

Wendy glared at him as she picked up his leash, an unfortunate necessity for the pub, even the pub porch. "Die alone? One, I have friends and family, and two, I thought you said boys couldn't be trusted and I should marry when I'm sixty?"

"Exactly. Be healthy now and you'll be good looking in your forties--not your sixties, Wendy, don't exaggerate--and be able to make a proper decision about a husband." Ranvir curled his lip at the leash but consented to wear it. "Dating at your age is, to put it bluntly, full of bollocks."

"Thank you for your running commentary on my non-existent social life," she replied wryly. "Let's go drown our sorrows in some good beer and excellently greasy food." Wendy liked beer, but only in strict moderation--a small one with a meal was all she usually ate. She wanted her faculties about her at all times, an old habit but a good one. The short walk to the pub and a quick order later, and Wendy and Ranvir both had good seats on the pub porch and piping hot meals in front of them. A full stomach and a little discreet eavesdropping--always good for stories--would cheer her right up. And if not, there was always a book and chocolate at home.

The streets of Brighton were fairly crowded, forcing Peter to snake in and out of crowds, trying to avoid knocking people with his bag. Most of the citizens barely glanced his way as he passed- he was after all, just another street kid. The thought didn't bother him as much as it once would have, mostly because he just didn't care anymore. The attention he once craved and seeked in his younger days had eluded him- now it seemed more of a chore then anything.

The dirty red head slipped out from a rather massive crowd gathered in front of a bakery (they were advertising their over priced muffins for 30% off- a deal, for sure, but still overpriced). He turned just in time to catch sight of a blonde head before she crashed into him, causing him to knock his bag against one of the customers waiting in the line that had carried out to the street. Peter muttered a quick apology to the man, who gave him a disgusted look, before turning back to the blonde girl.

"I-I'm sorry. My minds somewhere else. It's in... it's somewhere in the stars," The girl mumbled softly, almost too faint for him to hear. He peered at her, very much interested in her choice of words. He had once been amongst the stars and it was definitely the place to be.

"No need ta-"

"Oh, you poor thing!" The girl cried out, interrupting his sentence. He had been about to tell her not to apologize for having your head in the stars, that the stars were where ones head should be, but he let his sentence run could. Peter frowned at her, wanting to turn and leave as soon as he heard the pity in her voice. He hated the pity that liquified in peoples eyes when they look upon him- it made him feel small and insignificant.

The girl continued to talk a mile a minute and Peter simply wanted to walk by her, when she suddenly said something that caused him to swivel his green eyes down to her blue ones, "Would- Would you like to stay at my house for tonight? You look a bit... out of shape. It's just up the road. You can smell the sea. My roommate won't get in your way. Wendy just reads and writes a lot. She's real fun to talk to though... loves to tell stories. Sometimes we take turns telling each other stories!"

She barely gave Peter a second to answer her, continuing on like she had a motor strapped to her jaw. Peter frowned at her, then simply waited for her to stop. Yes, he would probably take her up on her offer, especially if dinner was available. It wasn't often a stranger would offer him a place to sleep, especially one that was not creepy or crazy (though he wasn't so sure the blondie wasn't crazy. His eyes flickered a moment at the mention of her roommates name, but he had learned that many girls were named Wendy. Just because she happened to tell stories did not mean that she was the same stubborn girl.


"Never mind that. You can sleep on the couch. Come on hatter!" Peter did not move as she grabbed his hand and attempted to pull him off back the way she came, "Oh, sorry. I called you.. I called you the hatter just then, didn't I? I'm sorry, what is your name?"

"Now slow doon a minute lassie!" Peter finally blurted out, placing his hands on his hips as he arched a brow at the shorter girl, "You calmed down? Alrecht....my name is Peter an' Ah woods be delighted tae stay wi' ye, " He forced a brilliant smile reminiscent of his old days, hoping she wouldn't suddenly retract her offer, "I'm a wee confused at tae why, but if ye have a hot plate an' a bed Ah won't be turnin' it doon. Ah loove stories an' Ah got a few good ones myself Ah can offer as payment if ye woods like."

Peter took a step away, towards the direction she had started in and tilted his head down he road, "Lead th' way....whats yer name?"

Alice tilted her head to the side when he said his name was Peter. Wendy had mentioned a red-haired Peter on more than one occasion. Still, she didn't want to over think things. He was probably not the Peter that Wendy talked about sometimes. When he mentioned being confused, she giggled a bit and nodded her head.

"Confused is good! It means you aren't big headed and think you know everything. I once met a woman- a queen, that is, the Red Queen- who was so big headed in her brain that her head grew ten times to big. She thought she was the prettiest thing in the world still though. Had her cards paint the roses red. She was a funny thing," she muttered, thinking back to her days in wonderland.


"Lead th' way....whats yer name?" he said, and she crinkled her nose as she thought about it. She was still stuck in wonderland, where everyone knew her name without having to ask her. That had started to be the norm for her, then. "Oh, My name is Alice. Alice Kingsley," she said before skipping away back to the house, in a much better mood.

The room was very dark when she oped the door, which caused Alice to wonder where Wendy might have gone. "Wendy! Wendy! Darling, Where aree you?" she said as she left the open door and looked under the couch, though there was no way she could have found her way under the couch. She could have gotten into my shrinking potion, she thought to herself as she looked under the other pieces of furniture, every so often running her hands over the floor.

"Did you leave, Wendy! Was it the Pirates again!?" she said and giggled at her own words. She often joked with Wendy about her need to call her brothers every few days so they wouldn't worry she was taken by Pirates. Though, Alice supposed she shouldn't joke about that. If she'd been gone for longer than normal people had the right to worry the Red Queen had escaped exile. "I can call your brothers! Tell them to man up and go find you!" she said before realizing there was someone else in the room.

"Oh, sorry. You probably think I'm mad. I think I might be. I was just looking for Wendy though. She probably went our for food with Ranvir. Wonder why she didn't take Cheshire too though..." she muttered before pointing to the cat that was still sleeping on the couch. She patted the cat's head and sat down on the couch before looking back at Peter.

"Make yourself comfy. Wendy is out right now. She can figure out where you can sleep-- not my room or her's, of course, but the couch is a little bit lumpy so she might not want you to sleep on that. Oh! And the shower is just through there," she pointed to the back near her room, "It's right next to my room. You can use it if you like. I'm sure we have clothing somewhere around here you can borrow. I bought clothing for the Hatter once-- just in case I ever saw him again. He needs more than that patchwork suit. You can use some of those," she said as she got up and walked to her room, running over to her closet and grabbing some unused male clothing out of the back. She placed them into the bathroom before smiling politely and walking back to the living area.

She patted Cheshire's head and pulled one of her books from the shelves in the corner. Wendy's books had a distinct lack of pictures, and Alice loved pictures. She flipped through the pages as she read, occasionally looking over to the door. She knew Wendy was perfectly fine, probably, but she couldn't help but worry.

Wendy sat in front of her food, stuffed beyond comfort but happy just the same. Looking at her watch, she interrupted her blissful silence caused by eating good food to remark, "I'd better call Alice. She's probably back by now, and even if she isn't she'll want to know where I am."

Ranvir snuffled a little. He had drunk a little too much good Guiness and was in a very relaxed mood, cuddling up to her legs under the table and bemoaning the fact that "there were too many trees for those bloody squirrels." The sound he made might have been agreement, or just an acknowledgement that she had made a noise and would she please keep that to a minimum. Funny drunk, was Ranvir.

The wind had picked up since they left, so Wendy snuggled a little more into her jacket and relished Ranvir's body heat. Say what you would about a health-conscious, mothering dog, but he was a very good cuddle buddy when he felt like it. Which was mostly when he was drunk or when Winter had hit Brighton with a vengeance, but she appreciated what little she got. That reminded her, she really should start on some new winter scarves for the boys. John's was only a little worn, but as usual something unspeakable had happened to Michael's last year and he needed a new one something dreadful.

Yet another dreadful thing was that she had a sneaking suspicion that John was dating someone, and it was looking a little serious. He had answered her phone calls--he knew what things would happen if he didn't, and they were usually embarassing--but he sounded more distracted than usual. And in his pictures he looked different, happier. Not that she begrudged her brother happiness, but it sounded like she might have to take a trip up to his uni to have a talk with this girl. She hadn't had the opportunity to do this before, not with an adult girlfriend where she could really break out the big guns, so she was looking forward to it. Woe betide the girl if she broke her brother's heart. Wendy's vengeance was creative and masterful, and she wasn't afraid to wait for the perfect time for maximum non-lethal and legal trauma. No one hurt her brothers. She'd even semi-adopted their roommates, who she spoke to when she was visiting her brothers and nagged at them to take care of themselves better, stop procrastinating on their homework, etc. etc. One in particular wasn't close to his family and desperately needed someone to take him in hand. Not that she wanted the job, but she had been meaning to make him a scarf as well, this year, and disguise it as a sort of "Wasn't good enough for Michael, don't want it to go into the bin," sort of thing. She'd pick up yarn tomorrow to get a start on it.

Picking up her cell phone from her pocket, Wendy dialed their apartment line. They kept it because one of them (usually Alice) was losing their cell phone, and if Alice was out in the mood she'd left in Wendy didn't want to bother her on her cell. It rang a couple of times before it picked up.

"Alice? It's Wendy. I'm at the pub--sorry for not leaving you a note, I thought you wouldn't be home for a while--and I wanted to know if you were hungry. I can bring you something home, if you'll just let me know what you and the Cheshire want. Would have brought him, but you know how Ranvir is. Especially when he's been drinking."

Ranvir lifted his head up and growled at the mention of his reluctantly accepted feline flatmate. A civilized dog sober, Ranvir usually just ignored Cheshire, or followed the civilities, but drunk he reverted to some rather anti-cat sentiments.

Peter followed behind the strange girl named Alice, still slightly confused but fine with following her for now. His only other plans would have been to sit and beg for money for a hot meal and this way it meant he got it for free and little to no work. Peter was still extremely confused why she was readily bringing him into her home- he could be a murderer for all she knew. Or he could steal everything in her home...which wasn't a bad idea...

The walk was filled with mostly Alice prattling on and skipping- to which Peter paid little to no attention to. Girls were still confusing to him, even though he had been in this world for two years now. Most girls ignored him- he smelled bad and was usually covered in dirt. A few of the street kids found him attractive, but after hearing a few of the more 'adult' things that happened between a man and a woman, Peter basically stayed away from the whole 'girl' thing.

Peter hung back a bit as Alice walked into her home, calling out to this 'Wendy' of hers. He was little disturbed by the name and wished she would stop repeating it, but he wasn't about to complain outwardly. He awkwardly stood by the door while she searched her home- would this Wendy really fit underneath the couch? After a bit Peter took a step inside, glancing around the nicely furnished home while he tried to keep his muddy shoes off the clean carpet.

"Oh, sorry. You probably think I'm mad. I think I might be. I was just looking for Wendy though. She probably went our for food with Ranvir. Wonder why she didn't take Cheshire too though..." Peter watched her stroke the cat softly, then sit down on the couch. He had never been one for pets, most of the animals on Neverland could talk so it would have made it strange to 'keep' them.

Alice continued to prattle on, something he was starting to grow fond of. Tink used to gesture wildly ad talk like this girl...she even had the same light blonde hair. Peters eyes flickered up to Alice's locks as she spoke, slightly caught by the light soft of them. Reminded him of the glitter of treasure that Hook was to obsessed with....

"....You can use it if you like. I'm sure we have clothing somewhere around here you can borrow. I bought clothing for the Hatter once-- just in case I ever saw him again. He needs more than that patchwork suit. You can use some of those"

Peter wasn't exactly sure what to say to her Hatter comments, s he just smiled and nodded, "Dae I really reek 'at bad? Yer shovin' me in th' shower first thin'! Alrecht, I'll be back in a moment...." Peter turned and started to walk back down the direction she had showed him the bathroom was located in. He paused fora second though, scratch the back of his head in embarrassment, then turned, "And Alice? Thenk ye, yoo'll ne'er understan' what thes all means tae me." Peter smiled brilliantly at her, then whisked himself off to the bathroom.

He stood in front of the mirror for a moment, staring at himself in the reflection. God, he was older. He had been in a bathroom not to long ago and even since then his face had aged. He could even see the beginning of stumble growing along his chin, mixed in with the massive amount of freckles that contrasting strongly against his pale face. He had never been this light, not in Neverland. Peter was used to having sun-kissed skin, a gift from the land of perpetual summer. He locked with his eyes for a moment, his brows pulling together as he attempted to read himself. He could feel the weight of his years dragging down on him, the whimsicalness of Neverland disappearing from his bones and being replaced by the dragging gravity of Earth. He could imagine what it would be like to grow old, grow a beard, have kids....something he never ever thought about in Neverland.

Quickly, Peter ripped his eyes away. He turned the shower on full blast, pulled his grimy clothes away, and stepped into the warm mist. He allowed his body to relax under the steamy spray, imagining instead a hot spring waterfall and the mermaids surrounding him...

Alice laughed loudly at his comment over his smell before he rushed to the bathroom. In truth, she wasn't really bothered by it. The caterpillar always smelled like smoke in Wonderland, and the hare almost never bathed and was caked in dust from head to toe almost constantly. In fact, while most people and things in Wonderland regularly bathed, it was home to a host of strange smells and sights and things of the like. She'd just grown used to them.

As he disappeared to the bathroom, she began to pick up the couch cushion that she had haphazardly thrown over her head in search for Wendy. That may have not been the best first impression you could have given, Alice, she thought, thinking in Cheshire's voice. She did that sometimes- had simple conversations all her own with her wonderland friends. Oh, pipe down Chess. I was looking for Wendy, she told the voice, and a chorus of other wonderland voices, the loudest of them the Hatter, rushed to tell Cheshire off for pointing out her less-than-normal attitude around her guest.

However, the voices hushed to a low murmur as the sound of the phone hit her ears. She smiled and hopped over to the counter where the loud piece of machinery sat. She picked it up off of the receiver as she jumped onto the counter-top, folding her legs underneath her and breathing a cheery hello into the phone. Unsurprisingly, the voice at the other end was Wendy.

"Alice? It's Wendy. I'm at the pub--sorry for not leaving you a note, I thought you wouldn't be home for a while--and I wanted to know if you were hungry. I can bring you something home, if you'll just let me know what you and the Cheshire want. Would have brought him, but you know how Ranvir is. Especially when he's been drinking." Wendy's voice said over the line, and Alice nodded her head when she mentioned Ranvir's less than accommodating nature when it came to the cat when he was drunk. On more than one occasion Alice had to lock Cheshire within the confines of her room while the dog sobered up, which was never fun. As if in agreement, Cheshire wagged his tail in a threateningly angry way, causing Alice to wonder for a moment if the cat was mad. After all, hadn't the real Chess said that he was mad because, unlike a dog, he growled when he was pleased and wagged his tail when angry?

"Oh yes! I would love something to eat. Cheshire will take any table scraps, but you can get him a tuna sandwich for today- he doesn't like being cooped up and I get the feeling he might have to be today. And for me- or is it I? Is it 'and for me' or 'and for I'? I don't know. Anyway, I think it's 'and for me' so we are going with that one. And for me, I'll have whatever you think would be best. You do so have the best tastes, Wendy. Oh! And I brought someone home with me! He was homeless, and he looked so very sad..." she trailed off, looking over to the bathroom where the shower had recently sprung to life.

"Anyway, maybe bring something for him as well? I can cook something if I have to, but I would rather not. Just not something too rich, though, because I get the feeling he hasn't had a rounded meal in quite some time and it would be a giant mistake to let him have something rich right now," she said as she bit her lip and jumped off the counter, jumping and ducking about the room in an attempt to entertain herself while she talked.

"I will see you in a bit Wendy!" she said after a few seconds of empty time, realizing she had nothing else to say. She pressed the end button quickly before placing it back in its rightful place and skipping to her room. Once safely inside she collapsed onto the bed, humming a tune from wonderland. It was one the hatter had taught her when she was only a child, the time she thought was a dream for most of her life. She hummed it slowly and carefully, as if trying to bring herself back on her singing alone. That didn't work, however, and she quickly turned around when she got board with reminiscing, as it only made her said.

"What should I do now, hm? Chess, what do you say?" she said as the raven cat walked through the open door and hopped onto the bed, curling up next to her and letting her run her hands over its fur.

"I say you figure something fun out to do, Alice. You always were the best at fun. But, I suppose, if you are feeling a bit stupider than normal I can provide some assistance. Climb a tree, fall asleep, tell a riddle, mock someone. That's what I would do for fun," she heard Cheshire's slow, monotonous, mocking voice from somewhere above her head, but she didn't bother to look up. She knew he wouldn't be there.

"Yes, but I cannot fathom doing any of that now. There aren't any sturdy climbing trees about and you best me in the game of riddles, Chess" she muttered, groaning and throwing her head into the pillow she was curled up with at the moment. She hated the feeling of being bored, even for a second. She was never board in Wonderland, and she hated to know that she was missing something else from there- the feeling of excitement. "Well, I do best you at those, m'dear, but you do have.... potential" the heard his voice say before she knew he was gone for good, probably off to have fun with some other soul.

"

"Oh yes! I would love something to eat. Cheshire will take any table scraps, but you can get him a tuna sandwich for today- he doesn't like being cooped up and I get the feeling he might have to be today. And for me- or is it I? Is it 'and for me' or 'and for I'? I don't know. Anyway, I think it's 'and for me' so we are going with that one. And for me, I'll have whatever you think would be best. You do so have the best tastes, Wendy. Oh! And I brought someone home with me! He was homeless, and he looked so very sad..."

"Oh bugger," Wendy thought. She hoped it was a stray animal and not a stray person--it was not unlike Alice to use "someone" when speaking of a non-sentient being--but she wouldn't put the latter beyond her. Alice could handle herself, but still... best to get home quickly, then. Just in case it was a person and Alice needed assistance.

"Anyway, maybe bring something for him as well? I can cook something if I have to, but I would rather not. Just not something too rich, though, because I get the feeling he hasn't had a rounded meal in quite some time and it would be a giant mistake to let him have something rich right now,"

"Sure. I'll get your favorites and Chess' tuna, and something simple for our... guest. Oh, and Ranvir's been drinking again, so I'll let him sleep it off in my room so Cheshire can eat without being disturbed. I'll be right there."

Getting up quickly, thankful she was completely sober, Wendy found a waitress and ordered the food to go, adding that she was in a rush. The waitress smiled. She knew the girls, and was willing to do a little extra for them as they both tipped well, for both Wendy and Alice knew the consequences of food and drink that had been tampered with. Ranvir's head had fallen to the ground with a thud when Wendy got up, so when she came back he was almost asleep. "Ranvir!" she hissed. "Ranvir, we need to go home."

"Wendy. I almost caught the tiger. Give me a minute," he mumbled.

Rolling her eyes, she waited a few minutes until their food came out and thanked the waitress profusely for rushing the order. Paying for all their food, and tipping very well, Wendy walked and dragged Ranvir from the pub back to the apartment, her canine companion whining all the way. Back at the apartment, she juggled the sack of food, the leash, and her keys to open the door and walk inside the apartment, all as quietly as possible. Setting the food quickly down on the floor, she picked up her sword from the umbrella stand by the front door, and, holding the leash in one hand with an almost comatose Ranvir at the end, used the other to hide the sword behind her back. "Alice? I'm home with the food!" Wendy waited in front of the door to see who would come to her first, her knuckles white on the hilt of her weapon. Best case scenario, Alice had found a puppy Ranvir could spoil, or a new book Wendy would like... that Alice thought needed to eat. Slightly worse case, another cat, for Ranvir's sake--Wendy actually quite liked cats, usually. Worst case? A dangerous homeless person trying to find things to sell for drugs. Alice's heart was so big Wendy never knew if she thought of her own safety or not, so Wendy was prepared for anything.

Alice, who was almost asleep by the time Wendy got back, jumped up when she heard her voice. She rolled off the side of the bed and rushed into the main area of the home. Wendy was standing tensely by the door, and she tilted her head to the side at her posture, one hand behind her back as if to hide something.

"Welcome back Wendy! Peter is taking a shower- or he was, when I went to my room and dozed off. I think he is still in the bathroom though- you called just as he was getting into the shower and things of that nature tend to take quite some time- for me at least, because water is awfully fun to think about, and you are already here!" she rambled, reaching for the bag of food and pulling out Cheshire's tuna sandwich, her potato soup, and the carton of what appeared to be hot soup for Peter as well. She put the plastic bag the items came in away before grabbing a spoon and popping open the carton of her soup.

"Peter is the guest, by the way," she mumbled after swallowing the first bite of soup, thinking back to try and remember if she had said that before. She shrugged when she couldn't remember and went back to her soup, taking small sips of it as she walked to the side of the counter in the kitchen that served as the serving area for Cheshire and set the tuna sandwich down on the floor. She placed her carton of soup back up on the counter before walking back to her room and rousing the sleeping cat in question from his sleep. The lazy cat hissed at her and she rolled her eyes at him.

"No need to be rude, Chess. You have food to eat and I could just as easily save it for later, but I won't, so come on," she scolded the cat before picking him up and depositing him on the ground next to the sandwich, which he immediately took notice of and began to chew on the side of it.

"Thank you for the food, Wendy. I'll take all of us out to eat tomorrow, okay? We can go to the docks and eat at that nice, animal-friendly restaurant you said you wanted to eat at last week! It'll be fun! You, me, Peter, Cheshire, Ranvir, and maybe even the white queen! That is, if she can be bothered to come visit, as I assume she is busy what with getting everything back in order after the downfall of the red queen, but maybe, just maybe she could and wouldn't that be fun!" she said before taking a long sip of her soup and smiling at the taste. Potato soup was by far the best food available in the 'normal' world, though almost everything in Wonderland surpassed it. Minus the cake and juice, of course, which tasted horrid but could be forgiven for their horrible qualities by the magic they possessed.

Cheshire seemed to finish his sandwich quicker than normal and was pawing at Alice's foot in an attempt to get her to pick him up. He did that a lot, after he finished a meal. His face would be messy and, being the clean animal he was, would get frustrated when he couldn't get all of it off and make Alice clean it off for him, which is exactly what she did. She grabbed a paper towel and cleaned the fickle cat of the tuna that was still stuck to his face before leaning over and cleaning up the remains of the sandwich on the floor.

"Anyway, Wendy, where do you think Peter could sleep for tonight? Our beds will be occupied, of course, but the couch is a bit lumpy and we do have that air mattress from when my room was being painted and you told me I couldn't sleep in there due to the fact that 'wet paint fumes can make you high'-- I think those were your words. Do you think he could sleep on that?" she asked as she finished off her soup with one last gulp before throwing it into the trash bin.

"You, me, Peter, Cheshire, Ranvir, and maybe even the white queen! That is, if she can be bothered to come visit, as I assume she is busy what with getting everything back in order after the downfall of the red queen, but maybe, just maybe she could and wouldn't that be fun!"

Wendy was never sure if Alice genuinely expected her friends from Wonderland to enter the 'real' world, or if she had forgotten where she lived. Sometimes she was sure Alice thought Wonderland was just around the corner, through a wardrobe or using just the right antique key, or when the moonlight was just right. Wendy didn't begrudge her the notion, although it made her worry on occasion. Watching Cheshire consume his tuna sandwich, she was glad Ranvir wasn't awake to see it. He liked tuna, and when three sheets to the wind wouldn't be above trying to take it.

"Anyway, Wendy, where do you think Peter could sleep for tonight? Our beds will be occupied, of course, but the couch is a bit lumpy and we do have that air mattress from when my room was being painted and you told me I couldn't sleep in there due to the fact that 'wet paint fumes can make you high'-- I think those were your words. Do you think he could sleep on that?"

So it was a person, then. A boy, it sounded like, named Peter. Wendy was already predisposed towards suspicion with the name alone. Subtly swinging the sword down beside her leg, she answered, "We'll have to see," as she walked towards her room. Alice was probably not paying attention, but one never knew. Even if she was, hopefully Alice would see the sense of letting Wendy get a good look at their guest before allowing a strange man to sleep in a small apartment with two girls and fairly flimsy room locks. Closing the door of her bedroom with Ranvir inside--and dragging a dog of that size was not exactly relaxing--she waited at the bathroom door. A whispered conversation at sword point wouldn't go awry, and if it was a shady character she could throw him out on his ear. Thankfully Alice couldn't see the bathroom door from where she was in the kitchen, and Wendy heard the shower turn off. They could have a private little chat while Alice and Chess sat in the dining area, and if the boy made a scene, well, she kept the sword sharpened for a reason.

As Wendy waited, she decided it would be too risky to hold the sword at throat height, for dramatic effect. What if the boy came out and accidentally killed himself? Alice would be very upset, and it was much harder to hide a body in Brighton than other places elsewhere. Besides the fact that her conscience would destroy her if she hurt someone who was actually an innocent person who just needed shelter for the night. It didn't sound like Alice had found a child, but it wasn't worthwhile to take the chance. Leaning against the door post, she held the sword loosely at her side in a position where she could swiftly swing it up to put it at the 'guest's' throat as soon as he opened the door.

The swept hilt was gold filigree with a gem in the pommel, which was a particularly fine blue sapphire, big as a crown. The blade was engraved in fancy script with a line in a language Wendy had never learned, one of the fairy languages she'd been told. It had been a gift from... well, from Neverland, or had ended up there from elsewhere. She'd considered selling it a time or two, for education or when she'd wanted to move into a flat, but she could never bring herself to do it. It was her favorite blade, perfectly balanced, and she polished and sharpened it regularly. It made her sad, sometimes, but it brought many happy memories and one couldn't go wrong with a a good sword, even if she didn't get the chance to do anything but practice with it very often. Usually undesirables found a sword anachronistic and threatening enough, but she preferred to make things very, very clear. If a sword at the throat didn't do the job, there were other places to hold it that might work better with the male stranger. Wendy took the safety of those she loved with strict solemnity, and she'd been on the run before if it came to that.

She couldn't see the face, at this angle, but she could see that it wasn't a child as the bathroom door opened. Wendy swiftly raised the sword up to hold it just at the stranger's throat, close enough for him to feel the chill of the steel on his skin.

"I want to know who you are and if you have a criminal record," she said softly. "If you are on any kind of drugs or you plan on stealing anything, I suggest you leave immediately and give some excuse to Alice. If, however, you mean us harm, I feel I must inform you that I can and will use this sword without any hesitation, and sharp as it is it won't take much to hurt whatever I aim at." Melodramatic, sure, but it was best to get the honest bit out of the way. Neither of the two girls were harmless, Alice just usually looked more so. Wendy had no patience for hiding that sort of thing.

Peter stayed longer then he should have in the shower. It was mostly due to the soft melodic effect the steam and pummeling heat had on his back, but also he was a bit embarrassed by the amount of dirt he saw wash down the drain. Peter would never have described himself as a clean lad in Neverland, but he still swam in the ocean daily and never had he seen so much filth come off one person.

The soaps were mostly flower scented, which Peter did not mind at all. He lathered his hair in the lavender smelling cleanser and took a bit of time in styling it into a mohawk as he had seen his fellow humans doing in this world over the years. Peter would never cut his hair- except for the occasional trim- but the mohawk sure was an interesting style. Tink had a thing for Peters hair, she would spend hours brushing it out and trimming the minuscule locks that grew past her idea of perfection. As an honor to her, he tried to keep it in the same style, but he was no where as talented as the little fairy.

As always, memories of Neverland sent a wave of depression cascading down on Peter. He stood for another five minutes under the spray, staring at the white tiles ahead of him with a gaunt and tired expression. Where the water hit felt numb and he was no longer enjoying the warmth of it. Quickly, he shut the faucet off, exited the shower, and grabbed a towel, drying off his body before he glanced down at the pile of neatly folded clothes on the counter top. Bright yellow t-shirt accosted his vision as well as a pair of dark brown cargo shorts and boxers. They out fit seemed fairly normal, apart from the haphazardly colored socks and felt fedora hat with a matching ribbon wrapped around its top. Forgoing the socks and hat, Peter pulled on the short, boxers, and shirt, which fit him well enough in the length, though a little large for his thin frame.

Once again, Peter found himself staring into the mirror. His skin was still pale, though now flushed with the heat from the shower. He had to admit he had a little more glow in his features now that he was clean and did not smell of sweat. He still hated the light stumble on his chin, but there was not much he could do for that (unless he asked Alice for help, which Peter Pan would never do...he still had some semblance of an ego!). The bright orange of his hair was dampened by the water that dripped down his face. He shoved the wet locks backwards, then grabbed his towel and hastily scrubbed his hair into a wild mane.

Figuring he might as well figure out what the hell had lead him to here and that he had hid in the bathroom long enough, Peter turned and opened the door slowly as he continued to work the dampness out of hair with the towel.

Peter had not felt the coldness of steal in a very, very long time. As the tip of the intricately carved (and familiar) sword touched his jugular, a beat of fierce longing flew through him. In that moment it was as if all of Neverland came rushing back to him, singing to him, calling to him. His eyes widened, his heart practically burst from his chest, and he was sure he made some sort of sound int he back of his throat.

"I want to know who you are and if you have a criminal record...If you are on any kind of drugs or you plan on stealing anything, I suggest you leave immediately and give some excuse to Alice. If, however, you mean us harm, I feel I must inform you that I can and will use this sword without any hesitation, and sharp as it is it won't take much to hurt whatever I aim at."

He had not fully focused his eyes on the wielder of the sword until she spoke, still staring down at the perfectly balanced blade pointed at him. When he was King, a sword of this stature would have been at his disposal with a click of his fingers. In fact...the carvings and markings along the handle looked like...

Peters eyes carried down the blade, to the handle, up the nimble but strong arm that held it, and to the face before him.

Wendy.

The towel fell from his grip as he stared at the girl before him, the girl that had left him for this world of age and time. He blinked, blinked again, stared....wishing and praying for this moment to be true and not some trick. No, there was no way that after all this time he had found her among all the millions that resided on this planet.

Peter was not that lucky.

But here she was, staring at him with that same defiant look in her eyes, prattling out accusations and threats. But this was Wendy. His Wendy, his partner, the only one that he had ever thought back on when he was in Neverland. He wanted to rush forward as he would have when he was younger and pull her into his arms, spin her in the air and fly up into the treetops with the stars of Neverland all around them....

Peters green eyes narrowed for a moment as the rested on her blue ones. She did not recognize him; and how could she? Not only was he older, grown up...taller, thinner, stumblyer- but she had also not seen him in years. She could hate him for all he knew.

"W-Wendy?" He finally managed to work out in a soft, very un-Peter like voice. It was drenched with worry, sadness, confusion, and dread. If she hated him or had forgotten about him, he was done for right then and there.

Years later, Wendy would still feel horribly embarrassed at when she did next. She dropped the sword, swore and couldn't make herself drop down to pick it up again as she stared into eyes that were both familiar and a stranger to her. Cold chills wend down her spine and her knees weakened a little.

"Peter?" She whispered. "But..." Wendy hiccuped a half-choked sob and put her hand over her mouth, trying her best not to let her eyes fill with tears. "Peter." He had always been the boy to her, something she'd found empathy with in Doyle's detective tales and a woman called Irene. The boy. The one who had taught her so much. Who had shown her things she'd never dreamed of. The kind of companion she never thought she'd have again. The one she'd... had to leave. He had been everything to her for such a short time, and now...

Firming her spine--and her knees--and putting her hand at her side again, Wendy took a good look at her 'old friend.' It was jarring to see him older. He was even taller than her, now, where he'd been about the same height before. Muscles had filled into his lean frame, nothing like someone who went to the gym regularly, more like someone who was used to using his body and had made it strong. Even more peculiar was the shadow of a beard she saw on his jawline, bright coppery and blonde stubble. She had to physically and mentally stop herself from reaching up to feel the evidence that Peter was a boy no longer.

Not only that, but the joy she'd always seen in his eyes was gone. The joy that had set Peter apart, had lifted him, had made him a leader and a dread foe to those who would threaten his home. Where was the crow she could always sense was just a moment away from his throat, the combative spirit that defied even death itself? Wendy thought that might be more sad than this meeting itself. Who was Peter without that joy? Forget the age--despite Peter's insistence on never maturing, Wendy had always known he had the courage for it, and the makings of a man that could make a real mark on whatever world he happened to be in. But Peter without that spark of life? That wasn't right.

It wasn't right, too, that Peter had aged without her. Why hadn't he found her? Why hadn't he just... the anger that she'd felt so many years ago came roaring back to fill her with fire, chasing away the chill and sorrow. She knew she didn't have the strength to meet him like she'd always dreamed. That was gone, and she was older now, older than he, and yet it was still hard to find the right words to say. What could she say? I missed you? Truth, but too simple and too pale a phrase for what she'd felt. Good to see you? An understatement, and the truth was much more complicated. Before she could craft the perfect phrase, as if her life were a fairy story (when nothing could be further from the truth, several of those aspects were missing) she blurted out,

"It's me, Peter. It's Wendy Darling. And you should use the couch tonight, or however long you need it," she babbled on, unable to stop herself. "And I've got blankets and a pillow in the closet and there's food on the table. You should eat, you're too skinny. It's from the pub, and you probably could use some water, I can get you a glass from the cupboard." She mentally slapped herself in the forehead. How impressive, Wendy. You meet the boy again and you start mothering him, like the older sister he'd never had and what you never actually wanted to be. So very mysterious and mature, Wendy, so very not like what you always dreamed of saying to him when you met him again. Where was the anger, the long speeches she crafted late at night when she missed her dearest friend like an ache that never went away? That was life, she figured, as she attempted to suppress a blush but felt it on the back of her neck anyway. Figures that the one grudge she had a right to hold more than anyone completely evaporated when confronted with a freckled face she'd once been so fond of, she thought, conveniently ignoring the fact that he still occasionally showed up in her dreams.

"Peter? But...", Her voice was still as clear as he remembered it, rich and full and beautiful- like the birds that hunted in the treetops of the forests around the Fairy Village. He hadn't heard his name spoken like that, "Peter.", in a very long time. It sent a burst of joy through him, though the joy was short lived. He was still here and though Wendy was as well....he knew that things would be different now.

"It's me, Peter. It's Wendy Darling. And you should use the couch tonight, or however long you need it," Peter half expected her to kick him out, scream at him, something other then invite him to stay the night. It could be because Alice (where had that crazy girl gone too?) wanted him to stay, but Peter knew Wendy better then that. She would never allow something to take place under her roof unless she was 100% certain of it.

Peter simply watched her as she continued to babble, saying something about blankets and food and pubs. Truly, he was far more interested in examining her adult face, a face he recognized but didn't at the same time. Her hair was the same color, her face had the same expressions....she was just different. One of the many things Peter hated about growing up was that you changed- he could just never put his finger on what exactly changed. He supposed it could be the eyes, as he looked into Wendy's he recognized a tiredness that had not been there before. She was more....grounded, as if even pixie dust couldn't lift her anymore.

"Ah dornt understan'....Wendy....how?" He managed to say, ignoring her prattling words, confusion slithering through his words as he tried to convey his utter disbelief. He had no clue how long it had been for her, Neverland always worked a bit different when it came to time. His memories of Wendy as the mother of the Lost Boys were clear as day, but it had been ages ago. Peter never paid attention to the pacing of time, but he was sure Wendy had not been to Neverland in many, many years. Though looking at her....

Peter scrubbed his freckled hands over his face, ran them up through his wet hair, and pulled it back in frustration, "How ar' ya 'ere? How am I 'ere?", he cried out, turning his wild eyes to her, "Wendy, its got tae mean somethin', mebbe yer supposed tae help me..."

"How?" Wendy finally had the strength to pick up the sword again and held it loosely at her side--old habits died hard. "But Peter, you know how. We left Neverland the same way we came, remember? That was ten years ago, this world's time. And..." This was the difficult part. She'd already made a mess of these introductions, no need to make her sound any more like the girl she'd been, so she gave it a moment to martial her thoughts.

"How you're here is a more difficult question, Peter, because I really don't know. If you remember, we came through a portal to Neverland, and returned the same way." Without you, unspoken, because that was a conversation she didn't know if she'd ever be able to have again. It was enough to have to go through it once. Watching him, it was odd to see the same gestures, like pulling his hair when he was working through a particularly difficult problem. Sometimes she could have sworn he must have pulled half his hair out and regrown it, over and over again, especially when dealing with something he found very troubling.

"Helping you? Peter..." She took a deep breath and clenched her hand on the hilt of her sword again, letting the breath out slowly. "Peter, you want to go back to Neverland, don't you." It wasn't even a question. Peter had belonged to Neverland for so long he didn't know how to be anywhere else, and of course today would not have made any difference. Age or no age, Peter was still Peter. Clearing her throat, she looked at the ceiling, blinking her eyes quickly. More than anything Wendy wished Ranvir was awake to save her from the turmoil of this conversation, but what was done was done.

Time to be a big girl, Wendy. You've done it before, you've done it every day, and you can do it again. Just one more deep breath, relax your hands, and look him straight in the eyes.

Calmer now, if only on the surface, Wendy's face settled into solemn lines as she looked at Peter's face. "The way we came back, Peter, it came with us when we left. And I'm afraid that as soon as we arrived the spell burned itself to ash. We always figured that it was Neverland protecting itself from adults, or that you had closed it from the other end, because if it hadn't... well, never mind about that. As for getting back there without it, your guess is as good as mine."

Be the adult, Wendy. You can do it. Just stiffen your spine and get it out. You are a strong, independent woman and you have survived worse. And my inner voice is melodramatic today, look at that.

"However, Alice and I both have connections in the city and elsewhere, as well as a wealth of books and bookstores to choose from. If you truly want to go back, I'm sure she and I can at least make a very good attempt at finding a way. Alice, especially, is in tune with that sort of traveling, and if we ask she'll be more than happy to help you get home." She was proud that her voice didn't falter on the last word. One must take one's victories where one can.

"In the meantime, Peter, you can stay on the couch. We'll need to find you some better clothes if we'll be wandering about town, so a bit of shopping will also be in order. As well as getting you some kind of temporary ID, just in case." Because when in doubt, Wendy girl, stay with the practicalities and muddle your way through.

Alice, who had been sitting quietly while petting Cheshire on the head and reading from a book of short stories that included lots of pictures, looked up at the kitchen table and frowned. Peter's soup was still sitting there, untouched. Steam was coming off of the bowl in smaller amounts as well. Alice's eyebrows knotted together and she set the book down before walking over to the bowl and picking it up between her two hands with care.

"I'm sorry, little soup bowl, that you were neglected so. Let's go find who you belong to so you can fulfill your duty of being eaten!" she smiled and held the bowl in the air on the last part, spilling a bit over the edges. She hissed lightly as the droplets fell on her skin, but otherwise remained unfazed as she pulled a spoon from the proper drawer and placed it into a soup before walking down the hall where the shower was located. Wendy and Peter seemed to be having an adamant conversation, but she only caught the tail end of it, where Wendy said Alice was in tune with 'that type of traveling' and that Peter could stay, but they would have to go to the store to purchase clothing for Peter.

"What type of traveling am I in tune with, Wendy?" she asked as she looked expectantly towards her flatmate. She looked down at her hands suddenly as a warm sensation flitted over her fingers. "Oh! I almost forgot! How strange of me. Peter- your soup was cooling and even though this conversation seems important and all, but you need to eat," she said quickly before holding the warm soup bowl out for him. She turned back to Wendy quickly, still expecting an answer to her question, before she noticed the sword in her hands.

"Wendy! How very rude of you! We do not point swords at guests! It was you who made that rule you know!" she said, poking Wendy in the side and giggling. "Yes, I remember that well. You said, and I'm sure I remember this correctly because you told me that I should not be allowed to forget it-- anyway, you said that 'Pointing pointy instruments at people invited into our home scares people and I shan't scare people, as we need to make sure no police need to come to our home and take all of our Wonderland-- and Neverland, respectively-- artifacts away! You can't break your own rule!" she scolded as she used her now-free hands to grab the sword from her and twirl it around in her hands before placing onto the floor, probably scratching it in the possess.

"Oh! And Peter, you still need the grand tour! After you finish your horribly important super top-secret conversation or whatever this is," she stepped back and waved the sword at the pair quickly while flashing a crazy-looking grin, "I'll show you around! But I honestly don't know what you two would have to talk about, though, unless, of course, one of you wanted to tell me anything, because I hate to be out of the loop. You know that, Wendy," she giggled before rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet and swinging the sword carefully at her side.

Peter had search for that portal many times. The night he landed in the park in London, he had dug and dug and dug until he bare hands were ripped to shreds and still he had found no portal. He searched the park tirelessly, refusing to give up hope that maybe the portal had moved, that Neverland would snatch him from this cold world, or he was simply having a nightmare. But when daybreak came and the shone reflected off the icy looking grey monstrosities that covered the horizon line of the city a cold dread had seeped into his bones. Knowing that Alice was equally as confused as him made it easier...though he had been confused for two years and her only moments. But, having her here....it reminded him of a bit of home, even if she was originally from this strange world of wintertime and grey.

"Helping you? Peter...Peter, you want to go back to Neverland, don't you." Peter had not heard Neverland said out loud in a very long time. Not since he was there intact...in all of two years he had not heard the name of his home and it hurt. It was as if Wendy had taken her sword- which he now recognized as he sword from his beautiful island- and shoved it directly into his heart.

"Yes He whispered out, though she had not worded it as a question. Neverland was never a question to Peter, it was a statement true and true. She would return him their, he was sure of it. Wendy was never one to fail when she put her heart into something...all Peter had to hope for was a bit of heart.

A small smile flickered across his face at the thought; maybe Wendy was his savior after all. She would return him-

"...we arrived the spell burned itself to ash. We always figured that it was Neverland protecting itself from adults, or that you had closed it from the other end, because if it hadn't... well, never mind about that. As for getting back there without it, your guess is as good as mine."

Peters face dropped in an instant, his expression haggard, lines drew themselves across his forehead- he aged in a millisecond, the life sapping out of him as Wendy continued to deny the help he had expected to receive. Of course she would not want to- Peter had sent her home and stayed behind. He had never visited her with her knowing- only sent his shadow to listen in on her stories. For her, it most have seemed like he had forgotten her. Why would she return him to his home when she had fought so tirelessly for him to come here?

"Sorry I-" He began to mumble, apologize for something he truly had no idea how to apologize for to fill the silence, when Wendy continued to speak and cut him off.

[/b]"-However, Alice and I both have connections in the city and elsewhere, as well as a wealth of books and bookstores to choose from. If you truly want to go back, I'm sure she and I can at least make a very good attempt at finding a way. Alice, especially, is in tune with that sort of traveling, and if we ask she'll be more than happy to help you get home."[/b]

Peter looked up at Wendy with hopeful eyes just as Alice skipped into the area, interrupting their conversation, "What type of traveling am I in tune with, Wendy?" He turned his attention from Wendy to Alice, tilting his head slightly as he handed him over a bowl and a long explanation as to why he had to eat it. He of course was happy to rid them of the cooling soup- his last sightly warm meal had been a few days ago in London.

Peter flashed Alice one of his toothy grins after a spoon full of the soup warmed his stomach, deciding in that instant that he really liked the girl, "Thenk ye Alice, its actually perfectly warm, nae need tae worry!"

Of course, she had already moved her attention on to Wendy, rambling on about swords. Peter simply stood and watched as he swallowed down massive spoonfuls of the beautifully tasting soup, no intention of stepping in to the weird rituals of the two girls. Even though he had been here for a few years and met his fair amount of girls (they always hung on his arms and liked to touch his hair) he still had no hopes of understanding them. At the mention of Neverland, Peters eyes flicked up to Wendy. Had she spoken about him to her room mate, about Neverland? Maybe she told stories of them still, hopefully she still did...

"Oh! And Peter, you still need the grand tour! After you finish your horribly important super top-secret conversation or whatever this is...I'll show you around! But I honestly don't know what you two would have to talk about, though, unless, of course, one of you wanted to tell me anything, because I hate to be out of the loop. You know that, Wendy," Peter laughed at her wild antics, reminiscent of his own a long time ago. He had parallel moment where he imagined himself in Alice's position, waving around a sword and calling out orders....he really did like this girl.

"Before th' toor Alice, Ah got tae ask ye a favur about travelin'. Do ye have onie idea how tae travel a very very long distance...further 'en most ever go? See, I need tae get home an' Ah have nae idea how tae go abit doin' it. Wendy says ye might know how, cause yoo've dain it afair?" He have her a hopeful expression, brows raised in question, "Maybe you two coods come wi' me in th' end! Its much mair wonderful then this warld an' th' best part is ye ne'er hae tae graw up! Tell 'er Wendy, Neverland is beautiful ain't it?"

Peter turned to Wendy, smiling at her as he once had. Talking about Neverland now, it brought out the excitement he felt inside at the idea of returning home. He was sure Alice would fit in perfectly amongst the Lost Boys- she seemed to be one herself. And Wendy....well everyone knew that she belonged their anyway.

"... as we need to make sure no police need to come to our home and take all of our Wonderland-- and Neverland, respectively-- artifacts away! You can't break your own rule!"

Wendy glared at Alice. "Yes, we have those rules, but exceptions are understandably made when you bring strangers off the street into our flat. Not that you're strange, Peter, but it's the principle of the thing. Where did you put the list of rules I made you? I need to add 'No inviting strangers off the street, especially men, to the flat.'"

Wendy looked at Alice expectantly but had no idea if Alice even knew where her list was. Of course Wendy had a back up copy posted on the inside of a kitchen cupboard, but Alice was supposed to keep her own copy so she knew not to do things like use all of the tea without getting more because she just had to have a tea party with all the animals and random people in the neighborhood! Wasn't right when Wendy got home and couldn't have a nice cup of tea to wind down, that was practically illegal. Or should be, anyway.

Reaching out her hand, she gestured to Alice to give her the sword. "And I'll thank you not to abuse my poor sword, Alice," she said, in a tone both serious and teasing. "It doesn't deserve that, and I can put it away now. Peter might be many things, but a threat to us he isn't. Especially," she said with a chuckle, "he isn't a threat to your virtue, which is one of the reasons you shouldn't invite strange men up here." It was true that Alice had a good sense of people, and that she would most likely never invite someone into the flat that would hurt them, but Wendy was a worrier and besides, Alice wasn't always in her head. Many times Alice left it, in one way or another, for better climates, and who knew who might take advantage of that?


"See, I need tae get home an' Ah have nae idea how tae go abit doin' it. Wendy says ye might know how, cause yoo've dain it afair?... Maybe you two coods come wi' me in th' end! Its much mair wonderful then this warld an' th' best part is ye ne'er hae tae graw up! Tell 'er Wendy, Neverland is beautiful ain't it?"

Wendy, getting her sword back from Alice, paused. "Yes, Neverland is beautiful. It's always an adventure because the island has a mind of its own. And Alice, I was telling Peter that you're very good at looking for ways to get to other places, so perhaps you know of or have heard of a way to get to Neverland?"

Now to broach the more difficult part of that question. Sheathing her sword--the sheath was in the hall closet for some reason, very bad form--she thought of the best way to answer Peter truthfully, but not too truthfully. With a sigh, she decided to go the coward's route for the moment and focus on what was important. "We'll talk about that sort of thing when we find a way to get there, Peter, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's not impossible that we'll find a way, but it won't be easy, and who knows how it will work." She laughed a little, to herself, at Peter's statement that you didn't have to grow up in Neverland. Did Peter not realize that he had grown up already?

Sobering, she suddenly knew that she had to at least see Neverland with Peter, get him settled there, to make sure than in going back as an adult he didn't become something he wasn't prepared for. Adults in Neverland were, after all, the enemy, and there was no crueler irony than Pan going back only to become a sort of horrible pantomime of Hook. She knew Peter had no idea that being trapped with children on an island that actively worked against you could drive one mad, and that many of the pirates including Hook had succumbed to that weakness. It was a very specific hell, and one she would sentence no one to, most of all the boy who had found such joy there in childhood.

"Yes, we have those rules, but exceptions are understandably made when you bring strangers off the street into our flat. Not that you're strange, Peter, but it's the principle of the thing. Where did you put the list of rules I made you? I need to add 'No inviting strangers off the street, especially men, to the flat.'" Alice listened as Wendy asked her of her list. Of course she knew where it was. It was hung up on the wall, but a week ago it had asked to be moved because it was tired of being stuck to a wall. She had put it under her pillow... or was it her plant? One or the other.

"Of course I know where it is! Under my pillow, or... my plant... or my pebbles... or the prism, which hasn't been shedding rainbows in days! I think I need to change it's positioning. Oh! Where was I? The paper... under something that starts with P, of course!" Alice said quickly as she thought over where she had placed it.

"And I'll thank you not to abuse my poor sword, Alice, It doesn't deserve that, and I can put it away now. Peter might be many things, but a threat to us he isn't. Especially, he isn't a threat to your virtue, which is one of the reasons you shouldn't invite strange men up here," Wendy said and Alice begrudgingly handed over the shiny sword, and pouted.

"You sound like the white queen- she was always trying to be my mother too. But, of course, she was more fun that my mother. Which, you are too," Alice grumbled before smiling quickly and turning back to Peter, who seemed to be talking very happily.

"Before th' toor Alice, Ah got tae ask ye a favur about travelin'. Do ye have onie idea how tae travel a very very long distance...further 'en most ever go? See, I need tae get home an' Ah have nae idea how tae go abit doin' it. Wendy says ye might know how, cause yoo've dain it afair? Maybe you two coods come wi' me in th' end! Its much mair wonderful then this warld an' th' best part is ye ne'er hae tae graw up! Tell 'er Wendy, Neverland is beautiful ain't it?" Peter said before turning to Wendy. Alice was going to say she did not want to cheat on Wonderland and go to Neverland, and also that she didn't know of any way to get to Neverland, nor did she have any clue how to get back to Wonderland (though she had tried, many times), when Wendy answered the question while putting the sword away.

Yes, Neverland is beautiful. It's always an adventure because the island has a mind of its own. And Alice, I was telling Peter that you're very good at looking for ways to get to other places, so perhaps you know of or have heard of a way to get to Neverland?" Alice thought over how to respond to both of their statements, but she knew she couldn't simply just tell Peter she had no idea how to get him back home. That would be blunt, and in polite conversation bluntness was normally not appreciated.

"I'm sure Neverland is positively stunning, but I much prefer places where no one has a mind- not even the humans. Or the hares, of course, becuase there are only so many humans and really it's mostly sentient animals that make up where I want to be- which is Wonderland, of course! But... sadly, Peter, I have no clue how to get you home yet, but I will try. I understand your pain. I don't even know how to get myself home. I don't exactly belong here either. I used to, but I miss my true home dearly," she said quietly before turning and walking into her room as Wendy began to talk.

As her room was right next to the bathroom, she could clearly hear what Wendy was saying as Alice looked about the room for her list. It was not under her pillow, nor was it under her plant (which was looking oh so horribly poor as of late she felt sorry for it), but it was under her pebbles. Well, not under her pebbles, but the cake-serving tray they were situated on on top of her dresser, as if they were going to turn into cakes at any moment. Maybe they would, one day. Wendy was just finishing what she was saying when Alice got back out (it hadn't taken her all that horribly long to find the list, after all, as it was only one pillow and one plant and the pebbles were right next to that, and she had rushed the whole way). She handed over the list before leaning back against the door-frame and looking up at the ceiling. Peter's Neverland was supposed to be up there, apparently. Wendy had told her so.

"Oh! Wendy, I was just thinking-- pondering? Whatever the word.. or are those the same? I never can remember-- about Neverland. But, then I realized I only know of your adventures there. Would it be alright if Peter told us some of his? And then I can tell Peter of Wonderland, and you can tell a story too! Oh, it's been a long time since we've had a story-telling and I would just love to commemorate this occasion with one! I mean, it's not every day you catch up with someone from your childhood, and even less often that it's someone from another world. I mean, if the hatter just showed up, right out of the blue, I would surely love to have a tea party and a story-telling!" Alice exclaimed before she remembered the urgency of the situation. "Oh, but maybe not. Maybe after we get Peter back to Neverland-- then a story telling?"

"Yes, Neverland is beautiful. It's always an adventure because the island has a mind of its own. And Alice, I was telling Peter that you're very good at looking for ways to get to other places, so perhaps you know of or have heard of a way to get to Neverland? We'll talk about that sort of thing when we find a way to get there, Peter, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's not impossible that we'll find a way, but it won't be easy, and who knows how it will work." Peter nodded along with her compliments of Neverland- it truly felt amazing to have someone to share his memories of the place with. Not that it wasn't still waiting for him...all he had to do was close his eyes and he could see the beautiful waters and oceans and forests....but thats all he could do, see. He could not longer remember the smell or the scent; that had all been washed away my the muck of the cities. Thats why he was so insistent on going now. He couldn't forget the most important things about the most important thing in his life. Peter dreaded the day when he could no longer remember the hue of the ocean correctly...

"I'm sure Neverland is positively stunning, but I much prefer places where no one has a mind- not even the humans. Or the hares, of course, becuase there are only so many humans and really it's mostly sentient animals that make up where I want to be- which is Wonderland, of course! But... sadly, Peter, I have no clue how to get you home yet, but I will try. I understand your pain. I don't even know how to get myself home. I don't exactly belong here either. I used to, but I miss my true home dearly,"

Peter watched Alice leave with a puzzled look on his face, "She's a strange a one isnae she?" He said to Wendy, fully aware that Alice could hear him, "I kin'ay like it- she reminds me a bit ay Tink-" Peter was cut off as Alice walked back into the hall and started yelling to Wendy. Peter down the rest of his soup as she spoke, making sure to get every last drop before he lowered the bowl and raised a brow at the little blonde haired girl.

"Ah think we shoods tell some stories now, I woods love tae hear abit about Wonderland. An' ay coorse, I have th' best ay stories tae tell about Neverland....thoogh I love Wendy's most of all. Ye remember yer stories, right Wendy? Th' great ones abit me? Ah guess tha' was a lang time ago fur ye now..."

He hated that he now felt the need to lower himself when he spoke. Peter recognized it- his deflated ego and submissive behavior....the King of Neverland would have never acted like this. This was cod-fish living, not kingly at all....he just didn't have it in him anymore. It was like growing taller forced all his great-ness out of his bones, ripped his ego from his heart, and left him weak and polite like a limp balloon. He had learned early on that you had to be nice to get anything out of people here; he couldn't act like a king when he was begging for scraps on the side of the road. But even here with Wendy, Peter couldn't get himself to go back to how he should be...

At this point, he didn't want to Lost Boys, Tink, or Neverland seeing him. Not until he was back to himself. And maybe a bit shorter.