Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

Not Old, Alone, Or Done For	By : onecelestialbeing Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 9405 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Peter Pan, books, movies or any of its characters, and make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Hook turned over onto his side when he heard his cabin door opening. Blearily cracking open one red eye, he saw Smee standing across the room.

"I didn't want ta wake ya Cap'n, but tis nearly noon an-"the bosun began in a hushed tone only to get interrupted.

"It's alright," Hook said in a low voice, trying not to disturb Wendy who was still asleep buried completely under the blankets, only the top of her head exposed and resting against his right shoulder. "You're in charge; leave us be."

"Aye Cap'n, do ya need me to bring ya anythin'?"

Lifting his head slightly, the captain peered down at the torn green silk gown that lay on the floor near his desk. "Burn that," he told Smee.

"Burn it?" the bosun echoed sounding surprised.

"You heard me, burn it! The undergarments too," Hook sharply ordered.

Still confused by the request, Smee walked over and scooped up the discarded piles of slippery fabric into his arms. The green silk nearly covering his face, the bosun made his way out of the room shutting the door quietly behind him.

James yawned and closed his weary eyes. More than once throughout the night he'd had to shake Wendy out of her sleep. The first time he heard her cry out his hand automatically went to his pistol, and then he'd realized that she was crying and screaming in her sleep as if she was fighting someone.

Three more times after that she'd jolted out her sleep, startling James out of his. By then he knew not to reach for the firearm. He'd pulled Wendy against his chest as she sobbed, rocking her as if she was a small child. Despite the fact that Paulie had broken the pervert's neck, Hook wished that he'd slowly tortured the bastard before killing him. What he'd done to Wendy was unforgivable. The cuts and bruises she'd bore upon her body would heal but the time for the mental damage was variable.

Still in James' embrace, Wendy fell into a steady sleep right before daybreak.

A few hours later James turned over in bed, opening his eyes when he felt the empty space next to him. Sitting up to see where Wendy was, he found her wearing a nightgown and curled up in the smaller chair at his desk. She'd been staring into empty space until she noticed James looking at her.

His temper mounting again, James stared at the purple bruise on Wendy's face as well as the marks around her neck and wrists that were clearer in daylight.

"Hello," she greeted him softly, surreptitiously pulling her tousled curls around to conceal part of her face and neck when she noticed the captain's eyes focused on the bruises.

Yawning, James pushed the blankets off his body as he looked at the afternoon sun hanging low in the sky. "Why didn't you wake me?" he asked.

"I thought you could use the sleep," Wendy said giving a small shrug. "After all I did keep you up half the night."

"Aye mademoiselle, and for the past three nights as well," James added wryly as he sat down opposite Wendy. Seeing the guilty look on the girl's face he persisted, wanting her to understand the severity of her actions. "We couldn't find you anywhere. Do you know the hell you've put me through you little pest?"

James' last sentence wasn't said maliciously causing Wendy's cheeks to flush pink as she nervously stared back at him.

"Although I am to blame, thanks to my rash behavior," he conceded.

Relieved that James wasn't too angry at her, Wendy mustered up her nerve to ask what she'd wanted to ever since running away from him the other night. "Who was that woman you were with?"

It was James' turn to look gracefully embarrassed. "No one that you need to worry about," he answered dismissively, hoping Wendy would drop the subject.

"It's a bit late for that, so please tell me, who was she?"

"She was the occasional doxy, Wendy, a whore. Are you satisfied now?" he snapped.

Unblinkingly staring back at James, Wendy said nothing for a moment. "Why were you with her then?" she finally asked.

"Because she reminded me of you!" James relented, practically grumbling out his answer. "Dammit Wendy, after all of this are you still unable to see how-" Cutting off his words, James jumped up from his seat and paced about in small steps before coming back to his desk.

"I drank that day; more than usual. Her hair was the same color of yours and I called her by your name. The wench came over and clearly didn't mind if I called her by another woman's name."

Seeing the expression on Wendy's face he continued with his mini tirade. "Nay, Wendy. I could have called her Smee and the wench would have obliged so long as I pressed enough coins into her hand."

Unable to maintain her stony countenance, Wendy tittered as she pictured James sitting in the tavern, referring to the scantily clad woman by his bosun's name.

"I just needed some…relief," James admitted sitting back down in his chair. "This doesn't justify my actions in any way, but do you know how utterly tempting you are? Having your soft, sweet smelling body pressed against me at night?"

"So is that all I am to you James?" Wendy asked sadly, looking him directly in the eye. "A mere object of your lust?"

"My dear, sweet girl," James began. "If I were looking to merely slake my lust, and please pardon my next statement, then I would have taken that wench back at the tavern. But after she sat down, I looked into her overly rouged face… smelled that cheap musk and felt nothing but revulsion. To boot the damned chit put my hat on her unwashed head."

Still confused and slightly upset, Wendy was unable to laugh at his last statement. "Be that as it may, your anecdote still tells me nothing."

"Dammit girl!" James roared. "Need I spell it out in paint or prose?"

Noting how Wendy flinched when he raised his voice, James once again got up from his desk. After calling for the bosun who appeared shortly afterwards bearing a platter of food, Wendy and the captain sat in the cabin and ate in silence.

When the uneventful meal was finished, James had a fresh bath set up. It was then that Wendy noticed his disheveled appearance; the usually meticulous mustache and beard was overgrown and scraggly, and there was what looked like a few days worth of stubble covering James' cheeks.

Seeing Wendy appraise him quite obviously, James bristled when she saw her eyes falter at his wild looking curls. "Excusez-moi s'il vous plaît Mlle. Wendy, but my hair has been the least of my concern. It's been difficult focusing on anything not knowing where you were," he snapped.

Smiling sheepishly when she realized that she'd been caught, Wendy's eye caught her own unkempt curls. She'd busied herself with finger combing the knots out of the tendrils as James walked over to the other side of the cabin and disappeared behind the screen. Wendy froze for a moment when she heard him let out a low moan as he slid into the hot water.

Getting up to move to her favorite place near the window, Wendy looked at the rolling waves as her mind flickered back to what James had begun saying to her and then stopped midsentence. After racking her brain and coming up with nothing, Wendy then realized that the ship was moving.

"Where are we going?" she asked when the captain finally reemerged with a white shirt in hand, clad in a pair of black breeches and his damp curls hanging down to bare shoulders.

"Back to that wretched island," James answered distastefully. "One cannot avoid it for long."

Wendy wondered if she should offer assistance as she watched James slip the shirt over his head. When he finally had both arms through the holes he sat back down at his desk. Silently moving from her place, Wendy retrieved her comb and the hair oil. Uncapping the vial released the musky scent and brought back memories of the place she'd purchased it from and the ghastly events that followed, but she had to admit that it did work wonderfully in James' hair and smelled divine to boot.

Again James was soothed by the patient fingers grazing over his hair as Wendy gently worked the knots and tangles from the curls. "Captain?" she asked after awhile.

Finding himself irritated by the fact that Wendy was done grooming his hair already and that she'd called him 'Captain' instead of James, he forced himself not to grumble when she asked him if he needed help shaving.

"Do you know how to handle a blade?" he asked.

"Yes," Wendy answered swallowing nervously. "I've helped Father and my brother John before."

"Are you sure now?" he pressed. "Bleeding is not something I'm particularly fond of."

Feeling slightly foolish, Wendy remembered that James Hook was only scared of two things; the crocodile that ate his hand and his own blood.

"I promise I won't cut you," she said. "My brother was always the one rushing and cutting himself, which is why I ended up helping him."

"Fine. Look over by the tub," James said pointing to an area behind the screen. "My blade is in the wooden box on top of the trunk."

Walking over to the trunk Wendy found the wooden box with green felted inlay, which held a beautiful razor with a pearl handle. After James directed her on how he liked his face lathered, Wendy slowly brought the straight edge to his face, meticulously working on one area before moving onto the next. As promised she didn't nick his skin once, and James held up a looking glass and peered into it appreciatively.

"You do a better job than Smee," he told her.

Trying not to overly preen, Wendy emptied the dish of water and set the soiled towel in it. She watched as James walked to his trunk and selected a dark purple and gold waistcoat. Wendy helped him put the waistcoat on and was now helping with his boots when James told her that he'd wait outside while she dressed, and then she could meet him on the lower decks.

"I…I can't go outside," Wendy said, her fingers halting their movements.

"Pray tell why not?" James asked.

Wendy kept her head bowed, remaining silent.

"Are you scared of my men? Believe me when I tell you, no one will harm you."

Wendy suddenly looked up at James, the expression nearly unfathomable in her stormy eyes. "I know that…but look at my face!" she said wincing as a finger brushed against the sensitive purple mark mapped across her cheek. "Besides…I'd be too ashamed. How am I to go out there with everyone knowing…?"

"My dear, all they know is that you were held against your will. I saw no reason to share every delicate detail," James reassured.

Seeing Wendy's shoulders stiffen, he reached down to cup her chin in his hand. "You can't hide in here forever. Do you want to give yourself cabin fever?"

"I envision no such thing happening," Wendy answered. "You have a fine library that I've still not gotten through. How else do you think I escaped the ennui on those days I was left alone? "

"Alright," James conceded not thinking it wise to force her to leave the room. "By any means, if you feel the need to see something besides these walls, feel free. Otherwise I'll try not to be too long."

Nodding curtly, Wendy folded her arms across her chest as she watched James walk out of the room. She hated being stubborn, and it seemed as if Hook was sincerely trying to be helpful but Wendy found herself unable to curtail her skittish behavior. She knew it wasn't her fault that she'd gotten attacked, but that still didn't stop the shame from coming whenever she thought about it.

Despite James's words, Wendy opted to relegate herself to the cabin for the majority of her days. Whenever she happened upon the looking glass, Wendy was unable to keep from looking into it and would cringe each time she saw the bruises that had only faded slightly.

James would make more frequent appearances throughout the day, but Wendy didn't expect to be coddled as she knew he had to things to tend on the ship. To make matters worse whenever she tried to sleep, a pair of deathly gray eyes appeared in her dreams. Wendy finally stopped crying in her sleep but the horrid dreams always jolted her awake, the blood pounding in her ears.

One morning Wendy was stirred out of her sleep, desperately needing to visit the head. James was lying next to her in bed, facedown with his head buried in the pillows as he snored lightly. Wendy knew that the slightest movements sent James into fight mode, even in the midst of sleep and she did not want to wake him. Slowly yet successfully inching her way out of bed, she hurried out of her nightgown and slipped into one of her day dresses.

After putting on her shoes and quietly tipping out of the cabin, Wendy hurriedly made her way to the head. On her way back to the cabin, she ran into none other than Paulie who patted her on the head as if she was a small child.

"Good morning Paulie," Wendy greeted.

Just as before, he stared back at her before placing a foot down on the wooden steps. Looking back and Wendy, he paused expectantly as if waiting for her to follow him.

"No Paulie, I don't think…" her voice trailed off, watching as the oversized man stood solidly in place. "Alright," she conceded, following in behind him.

After being led down to the lower decks, Wendy found Mr. Smee along with some of the crew. A sudden case of nerves suddenly came upon Wendy and she tried ducking behind Paulie, until the bosun joyfully greeted her and offered her some breakfast.

While waiting for her meal, Wendy watched as Paulie dragged a stool for her to sit on and then folded his body down onto the floor, as if waiting for her to begin something.

"Do you want to hear a story?" she asked shyly.

Paulie stared at her without saying anything, which Wendy took to mean yes. To her surprise the lingering men on the deck whooped cheerfully and also sat down and looked up at Wendy expectantly.

Wendy fought the urge to laugh as she looked upon the menacing pirates sitting before her, their swords in laps and grime on their faces, yet their eyes shining brightly like a five year old on Christmas morning.

Three stories in and the rest of the crew now perched before the young woman on deck, Wendy had gone into a tale and was up to a portion where the characters were sword fighting. At one point Noodler and Bill Jukes began arguing about a moot point in Wendy's story and both stood up brandishing their swords at one another.

Wendy gently tried to break up their fight, and somehow Noodler vehemently tried to make a point and had snatched Bill Jukes' sword from his hand and pressed into their storyteller's.

"Go on, show 'im how it's supposed to be!" Noodler urged, holding his sword up to Wendy's. "He wouldn't know a proper swordfight if it bit 'im in 'is-"

"Noodler!" Smee said warningly.

Wendy tried to protest but the pirates wouldn't hear of it; they wanted her and Noodler to literally act out the part of her story that two had argued over. Despite the fact that holding a sword now felt foreign, Wendy play fought with Noodler with unbridled enthusiasm and soon found herself laughing as she was cheered on by the crew.

James turned over in his sleep, subconsciously turning towards the warm body that he loved lying next to and opened his eyes when he found himself alone in bed. Turning around to see if Wendy was sitting at his desk or near her favorite place by the window, James frowned when he saw that she was not in the cabin.

After getting out of bed and working his way into a shirt, the captain opened the door to his cabin and paused when he heard what sounded like laughter; rowdy male laughter mixed in with the tinkling sound of a female's. Walking to the edge of the balcony, Hook looked down to see Wendy holding a sword, her cheeks glowing and mussed curls flying about as she dashed back and forth on the deck with Bill Jukes who now held his reclaimed weapon.

Surprised to feel a flickering of jealousy, James grumbled inwardly that he wanted to be the one to teach Wendy how to swordfight properly, not his crew or anyone else for that matter. After a minute James realized that the two were only jesting around as Bill Jukes clearly made moves that weren't to disarm, yet it still did nothing to temper the flames of resentment at the fact that another man was able to make Wendy's face light up with laughter.

Silently James made his way down to the lower deck, walking towards the cluster of men. The crew that saw the captain walking towards them immediately scurried away, as did Bill Jukes whom moved back from Wendy.

Wendy on the other hand, had her back towards the captain and nearly jumped when she heard his voice near her head.

"You're holding the sword much too low, Ms. Darling," he said.

"Oh! Well we were only having a bit of fun," Wendy replied, slightly flustered. "It's been awhile since I've even held a sword."

Swallowing hard, Wendy stood still as James then reached across her and lifted up her arm, positioning her body in the proper position. "Hold it like so," he said.

Wendy nodded her head, relieved that James wasn't upset with her for cavorting with the crew. The rest of the men that had also grown silent when the captain appeared exhaled as James began walking away.

Offering a weak smile, Wendy handed Cecco back his sword and made her excuses as she turned to go after James. The men cried out for her to stay and tell them another story, only appeased when Wendy promised that she would return later.

"James?" Wendy called softly as she walked back into his cabin.

"I'm right here," his voice came from across the room.

Wendy walked over to the desk where James was sitting behind, reclining on his chair with both feet propped up. Wondering if he was upset with her for going out on the lower decks without him, yet wary of the seemingly ominous silence, Wendy nervously sat down at the desk across from James.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What for?" he asked.

"For leaving the cabin without waiting for you…I know it wasn't very proper…"

"Wendy, you're not a prisoner here. You are welcome to leave the cabin with or without my presence. None of my crew would dare to lay a finger upon your person lest they end up with my hook in their belly and their body in Davy Jones' locker."

Seeing how Wendy was still nervously twisting her hands in her lap while biting on her bottom lip, James got up from his seat. Walking over to Wendy, he stooped down next to her and used the tip of his hook to gently pull back the loose curls hanging in her face. Noticing that James had on the harness underneath his black shirt, Wendy instantly felt guilty. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you dress."

James chuckled slightly, the low baritone making Wendy shiver. "Sweet girl, I'm not completely helpless; I can dress myself. Although I will admit that it's easier to have someone help me."

Looking down to see that Wendy was still tensing her fingers about, James reached his hand into her lap to pry her hands apart. Holding her breath at the contact, Wendy was unsure what forces made her do so, but she found her small hands curling around James'. She nearly keeled over from shock when his fingers wrapped themselves back around hers.

The two remained in their position for a few minutes, not saying anything when Smee barged in and interrupted the moment. Wendy took it as a good thing when James didn't instantly snatch his hand away from hers; instead he gave them a gentle squeeze before standing upright and walking over to his bosun.

James hadn't said much more to Wendy after that, but on his way out of the cabin he held his arm out and the young woman accepted it. As they made their way down the steps, two of the men were swabbing the deck and looked up to see Wendy and smiled at her, then quickly bowed their heads back down when they saw their sneering captain.

After finding a place for Wendy to sit, James took his place at the helm. Wendy had turned her head to look out at the cerulean ocean, and just closed her eyes to breathe in the salty sea air when an obnoxious squawking made her jump.

"Pretty lady! Pretty lady!" said the colorful peg legged bird at her feet.

Wendy found herself laughing, yet James was less than amused as he frowned at the feathered miscreant.

"I often ask myself why I haven't shot that bird yet," he mused thinking back to the many times when he was rudely awakened by the parrot's squawking.

"Because who else would you have to do your reconnaissance?" Wendy retorted slyly. James feigned an innocent expression, then lifted one eyebrow and smirked. "I know you had that bird follow me; how else would you have found where Peter and the Lost Boys lived?"

"Somehow I knew you were the brightest of that lot," James laughed.

Wendy refused to admit it but James had been right; she did need to get out of the cabin. The fresh air was invigorating and it was incredibly peaceful watching the sun set on the lapping waves. A couple of times some of the men had made their over to the deck, curious for another innocent glimpse of the woman onboard that had remained in the captain's cabin for much of her time, only for James turn his icy blue eyes in their direction.

'They act as if they've never seen a bloody woman before,' James groused to himself.

Wendy was oblivious as to why the men scampered away so hastily, and when she looked at James the expression on his face told nothing. Another thought suddenly popped into her mind.

"James?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think when we return…do you think Peter is going to cause any trouble?"

James let out a gusty sigh as he looked straight ahead. "I'm sure he will show his face at some point or another. I think the only other pleasure he has besides tormenting me is finding as many naïve souls as possible to build up that nasty little gang of his."

Pondering over the captain's words, Wendy watched as James then motioned for someone to take his place. After a crew member relieved him from the helm, the two walked back to the cabin.

Two days later the Jolly Roger was back in Neverland. James found himself needing a change of scenery and ordered Mr. Smee to take the trunk with his and Wendy's belongings and place it in the longboat.

"Where are we going?" Wendy asked after stepping into the boat, her eyes searching across the water for the mermaids that tried to drown her.

"You'll see when we get there," James answered. Without saying another word, Wendy sat in silence as they were rowed to the clandestine destination.

James had on another one of this red and gold velvet ensembles, a matching hat with impressive plumage placed just so atop his head. With his double handled cigar holder in hand, James puffed away as he kept an eye on the open water. Wendy on the other hand, kept sneaking furtive glances across the longboat, watching the sunlight highlight the captain's handsome features.

Thankfully his affable behavior towards Wendy had remained constant within the past few days, although he was prone to growling at any of the crew had they tried to come near her. Paulie had even come around wanting to be told a story and James had shouted at him, and the hulking man walked away with his head low.

Wendy nearly shrieked at James, who was aware that he was behaving like a petulant child but all he said was, "This is my ship, they will do as I bloody well please."

Rolling her eyes, Wendy had slipped away to look for Paulie. After finding him, she snuck him an orange and promised that she'd tell him a story another day. Upon returning to James who threw Wendy a disparaging glance, she walked over to the sullen captain and threw her arms around him.

"He's just like a lad that needs a mother's attention," Wendy said soothingly.

Conceding when he smelled her sweet scent, James briefly wondered if Wendy was growing more in tune with her feminine wiles.
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Not Old, Alone, Or Done For