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Regrets of Revenge	By : roxnn2005 Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 5890 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I don't own Peter Pan. I only own Samantha since she is a character of my own creation.

This story is based only on the films of Peter Pan, both the live action and the Disney cartoon and only because I haven't had a chance to read the book yet.

This is probably a really stupid idea/story and for that I apologize. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you don't like OC's...don't read it. Just so everyone is clear on this... This is a Hook/OC pairing. If you do like it, please let me know or else I will just remove it and forget all about it. Please no flames, but constructive critisim is alright. Enjoy.

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Samantha looked up at the old house. After traveling so long and so far from New York to London she was finally standing in front of the house she last saw 15 years ago and could barely remember.

It was her great-grandmother Wendy’s house. She was a smart woman and Samantha loved her, but she lived in an alternate reality from everyone else. She often talked of fairies and flying, pirates and magic, and a boy who never grew up. It was all quite silly in Sam’s mind.

She had loved the stories when she was two, but she was seventeen now, almost eighteen and they were beneath her.

Why was she here then? Her great-grandmother, Granny as she called her, was getting older everyday and it was only a matter of time before she passed away. She had always been fascinated by London and begged her parents to let her return, but they said that they preferred living in America.

She had moved from place to place after her father joined the U.S. military. She had lived in almost all the states, except Alaska and Maine. Her favorite was Montana, where she lived near a farm with lots of animals and space to play. She even learned how to properly ride a horse.

Now she was back in London. Things were different now and she couldn’t wait to go around the town and look everywhere. Samantha Evans was sure that this was going to be great fun, even with her crazy great-grandmother around.

That was probably the only thing she had in common with her great-grandmother, both were adventurous. Wendy had traveled much when she was younger and had written several books about all her adventures, but once she got married her adventures were limited to raising a family and being a loving wife. She continued to write though, but instead she wrote children books.

Sam walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. When her great-grandmother opened the door, Sam was quite surprised.

From what her mother had told her, Wendy should be near dead, but there in front of Sam was a woman who could obviously live on her own for another ten years at least.

Her gray hair was up in bun and she was wearing a light brown dress, but her blue eyes were filled with life that her wrinkled face contradicted.

“Welcome Samantha dear,” she said pulling the poor girl into the house. Sam sighed to herself. What had her mother gotten her into now?

“When your mother wrote to me and said that you were coming, well I just couldn’t express how happy that made me,” Wendy said shutting the door behind her. She turned and fully looked at Sam. “My how you’ve grown. Last time I saw you, you were running around and making all sorts of trouble.”

Sam smiled. Oh, if only her great-grandmother knew what kind of trouble she had be wreaking in America. It wasn’t anything serious like getting pregnant at thirteen or doing drugs. She had some morals and preferred to remain a virgin till marriage, but she had been doing some vandalism and thievery. Nothing major, just small things like a CD she liked but couldn’t afford or a new paint job on the school building. The best part was, she was yet to be caught. It was that fear of being caught that made the whole thing fun.

“Just look at you now, all grown up and such a pretty girl.”

Sam smiled politely at the compliment, knowing that it wasn’t true anyway. Granny was just being polite. There was nothing pretty about her dull gray eyes, her flat lifeless blonde hair, or her insufficient figure.

“Well,” Wendy said clapping her hands together, “let’s get you all settled in. I’m sure you’re tired after all that flying.”

“You bet, Granny,” Sam said picking up her bags. The two walked up the stairs, chatting about the flight and how everything was in America.

Finally they reached what had once been the nursery. It was guest room now and the place where Sam would be staying.

The room had changed over the years. There was a single sleigh bed against the far wall with a nightstand next to it. On the wall next to the door, across from the window there was an armoire, and on the wall across from the bed was two bookshelves filled with books, one with books by other authors and the other filled with books Wendy had written herself.

The window was the best feature. It opened up into the room and went from ceiling to floor. If there was a balcony out there, she was sure that she would walk out there and gaze all night at the stars.

“Well,” Wendy said from behind her. “I better be going to bed. You and I have plans to wander the city tomorrow, correct?”

Sam smiled and nodded. Suddenly the idea of wandering around with her Granny seemed great.

Wendy turned to leave, but stopped at the door and looked back at her granddaughter, who had opened the window and was looking up at the night sky.

“Don’t forget to close and lock that window before you go to sleep,” Wendy said.

Sam narrowed her eyes as she turned to her. “Why?”

“The pirates may come and get you,” she said. “They’ve been after me for years.”

Sam just stared at her Granny before nodding and agreeing that all would be done. Wendy smiled and left the room, heading off to bed.

Sam shook her head. “Just when you were starting to sound cool you had to go and say something like that,” Sam said to herself.

She shut the window sometime later. She quickly changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. She climbed into bed yawning. It had been a long day, and she was tired.

She turned off the light and fell into a restless sleep. Not once did her evening activities did she realize she had forgotten to lock the window.

Someone else was watching that same window waiting for the light to fade. Once it did a smile appeared on his wicked face as his blue forget-me-not eyes twinkled in the moonlight. He lifted his right arm and glanced at the hook reflecting the moon.

“Tonight,” he said, “I will finally have my revenge against that storyteller.”
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Regrets of Revenge