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In the swirl of passion	By : Lywhn Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 35043 -:- 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
- 27
- 28
- 29
Chapter 28 – Silly Bets

The next two days progressed peacefully, and the weather grew warmer again – a sure sign that Peter had approached his normal mood. The boys played in the forest or on the beach, the Indians went hunting and gathering, the pirates enjoyed the respite from battle, and James and Wendy were still recovering by sitting in the sun, talking or reading.
Hook repeated his offer to teach her Spanish, and so the hours passed quickly while Wendy learned her first phrases and sentences in Spanish. She loved this languages, and James was pleased with her quick mind and innate sense for the strange words and grammar. The fairy-queen visited them once again and had a critical look at Hook’s wounds, but was satisfied as she saw how well he was healing, and that the lovebirds really had managed to desist for a change. Of course, neither of them mentioned James ‘punishment’ for getting plastered with snow and her ‘payment of the high invoice.’
It was the morning of the third day –Wendy was out on deck – when a thump from the companionway sounded and a loud howl echoed through the entire ship. Startled, Wendy ran toward the stair, knowing that something bad had happened. Several of the crew were there when she arrived, and she heard Jukes calling that someone should get Smee. Because of the death of the ship’s doctor shortly before they all had travelled to Neverland, the old boatswain and Bolard were acting in his place, but if Smee alone was called, it could only meant that someone needed medical help AND that there was also a problem for the whole ship.
The men made way for Wendy, as she approached the group, then looked down into the ship. At the foot of the stair lay Cookson, holding his left leg and grimacing in pain. Drat! This didn’t look good. “’Scuse me, Miss,” Smee’s mumble sounded beside her and she let him pass. The Irishman hopped down the companionway and bent over the ship’s cook, inspecting his leg with rough fingers. Cookson stifled a groan, but he went very pale beneath his tanned skin. The Irishman sighed and glared up at Wendy, who descended to his side. “I don’t know if it’s broken, but sprained at any rate – which is going to hurt worse.”
Wendy asked, “What happened, Mr. Cookson? Are you drunk?”
The man shot her a glare and shook his head. “Na, Miss, I’m sober as t’e sea. I only slipped and t’en…” He shrugged his shoulders and looked away grim-faced.
“Bravo! Well done!” Cecco sighed and exchanged a glare with Smee. “Who’ll fill his place?”
The boatswain made a face. “Albino, as you very well know.” The other men around them started to protest and to swear, remembering too well the pale gunman’s cooking-abilities (or lack of them) during Cookson’s illness several months before.
Wendy quickly discerned the reason for their dissatisfaction and took a deep breath, as she made her decision. “I can do it!”
Cookson crinkled his forehead. “Ain’t no woman gonna be in MY galley! ‘Specially not you!” He stared with his watering eyes up to the girl and heard his comrades gasp.
“What did ye say, ye ungrateful, sorry excuse of a head-cook?” Cecco demanded.
The ship’s cook frowned and glared back. “T’is me business alone and--”
“She saved ye arse, ye ungrateful --” Billy Jukes snarled and Wendy felt the tension rising.
Quickly she stepped forward, silencing the growling throng, much to her surprise. “As far as I see, Mr. Cookson, you are not able to stand for the time required to prepare meals. Mr. Albino is a gunman, not a cook, and since I am the only female on board – aside from that feathered nerve-saw in our cabin – it’s only logical that I take the job--”
“Yer t’e cap’n’s lassie,” Cookson cut in. “An’ by t’e way, I’ll never let YE in my galley!”
Wendy crossed her arms and cocked her head. “Mr. Cookson, could it be that you’re still angry with me because I proved that I am the better swordsman?”
The ship’s cook narrowed his eyes. “Ye were lucky, t’at’s all!”
“If you threaten a girl who is younger and smaller than you, then could it be fate decided to help her? You were cowardly enough to fight a twelve year old girl, so don’t be irritated when she defends herself with anything she has!” She looked sharply at him. “And I think it’s high time we put our private argument at bay. I hurt you all those years ago – and for this I apologize. I don’t like to hurt others -- even when they deserve it.” She extended her right hand toward him in an offer of peace.
Cookson glared at her. “Ye made me lose face!”
Wendy rolled her eyes and sighed. “No, it’s still there. I’m looking at it!” The other men around her started to laugh.
“Don’t t’ink t’hat I wouldn’t defeat ye in a real fight!” he growled and the girl threw her hands up.
“Of course you’d win! You’re a trained pirate and I’m a girl whose only experience is with wooden swords and her little brothers!”
“Yeah! And all yer luck wouldn’t help ye t’is time. Ye wouldn’t manage it to cook fer t’e whole crew!” Cookson hissed. “So see my refusal to give ye me galley as a help to preserve yer pretty face!”
That did it. For a moment Wendy only gaped at him, then frowned. “I DO know how to cook for a crowd, Cookson! And I’m sure the men would be able to eat my cooking as well as yours!”
“Never!” the ship’s cook spat. “T’ier ladyships don’t never get t’ier hands dirty!”
“Enough, Cookson!” Smee ordered angrily. “If the cap’n hears you, you’ll be gutted and overboard quicker than you can say ‘I’m sorry’!”
“Would you like to bet?” Wendy interrupted. More of the crew were gathering, and all stared at her. “If I can satisfy the crew’s ‘discriminating tastes’ while you’re mending, and they’re content with it, you will forget our little encounter from four years ago. If not, I will admit that I was only lucky, and pay you the same price you get if you had, say, lost a leg.”
Gasps of amazement and murmurs erupted around her, and Smee cocked his head. “Miss Wendy, you know how much that is?”
“Aye! Fifty doubloons!”
“You don’t have money!” Cookson mumbled, shocked.
“We have booty from Blackbeard’s defeat. And the captain gave me a part of his own share. Believe me, I CAN pay!”
The ship’s cook narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, and felt the glares of his comrades. He knew that the crew liked the girl, and that even his ability as cook wouldn’t spare him their ire and – above all! –Hook’s as well, if he didn’t keep his animosity “under his hat.” And he had to admit that she really had nerve, not only during battle, but by daring him on his own terrain as well. “All right!” he grumbled and took her offered hand.
Cheers broke out. A bet was always a welcomed reprieve from the boredom of life aboard a ship, and a bet between ‘their’ lady and the peculiar ship’s cook was even better!
“What is the meaning of this?” Hook’s voice cut in over the cheers while he pushed past his men to descend the companionway. He had finally completed his log entries, including the final events of Blackbeard’s planned – and realized – plot, and heard the noises outside on deck. But after he heard the summons for Smee, he had ignored them, because he knew that the Irishman would soon have everything under control. But as it suddenly grew very quiet, and he heard men running, he had gotten curious and left his cabin, only to find nearly the whole crew surrounding an obviously injured Cookson and a challenging look on Wendy, who shook hands with the other man. The girl turned and gave her captain a sunny smile, while Smee hurriedly summarized what had happened for his commander.
The captain stared at his crewman. “Slipped?” he asked disbelieving, and Cookson looked down.
“Sorry, Sir, but--”
“Did you drink too deeply from the rum yesterday?”
“No, Sir, I only missed a step.”
James lifted a brow and made a face. “Who is going to fill in for him?” he turned toward Smee. “And please don’t tell me it’ll be Albino – with great respect to your shooting-abilities, Mr. Albino!” he added after a second, and earned a startled glance from the pale, young man.
“I will fill in for him!” Wendy stated, beaming, and had to smother a smile as she saw his perplexed expression.
“You will what, my dear?”
“I’ll be ship’s cook!” she repeated cheerfully and ignored his dark look.
“Wendy, you are my lady, not a ship’s hand!” he said firmly.
Ordinarily, no one would ever dare to contradict him, but Wendy only smiled broadly and responded: “Everyone has a duty on board a ship. It’s how a ship runs. Why not I? Everyone has their own specialties that they can contribute to make it function as a whole. And even my sceptical aunt was pleased with my cooking. So why not help the crew by saving them a week or two of food they, um, aren’t used to?” she finished with a politic phrase on Albino’s behalf.
“Wendy, as I tried to tell you, you are my lady, and the captain’s lady--”
“—has to follow through on a bet!” Wendy interrupted.
James blinked, completely oblivious of the interested and curious glances around him. “A bet?”
“Aye. I challenged Mr. Cookson to a bet, to see if I could cook for all these hungry mouths, and to satisfy them, as he normally does!” Amused, she recognized his flabbergasted gaze.
“You what?”
“I’ve challenged Mr. Cookson to a bet!”
She looked far too cheerful, and Hook glared down at the injured man. “And you accepted?”
Cookson cleared his throat. “Sir, she--”
“I wanted it!” Wendy smiled, knowing full well that she saved Cookson’s skin –again -- by not giving away the reason for the bet.
Hook shook his head. He couldn’t believe it. “Do you know in what you’ve done? The galley isn’t your aunt’s kitchen, and the heat--”
Wendy stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek, eliciting smothered chuckles and smirks from the crew. “I’ll open the porthole, prepare vegetables and potatoes on deck and – by the way – I froze enough these last few days, the heat might be a nice change. And cooking is something I’m familiar with. I am not only Red-handed Jill, but Wendy Darling as well, and I’ve always loved to cook. You could, ah, help me and teach me the Spanish words for the vegetables.”
Hook rubbed his face. This girl was always full of surprises, but this time she had shot the bird. “You are determined to fulfill all the cook’s duties for the next few days?”
She nodded and threw her head back, lifting her chin in a silent challenge. James knew that look all too well. As beautiful as she was, she could be stubborn. “All right, my beauty. If it is your wish, then--” he couldn’t say anymore, because his words were drowned by applause and cheers. Falling silent, he looked into Wendy’s dove-blue eyes and bent down to her. “You know that this will shorten your stay in bed in the morning, and that you will not retire until late in the evening?”
“Don’t worry, James,” she whispered back. “There will be still plenty of chances to have your way with me – and I with you!”
He lifted both brows. “You promise?”
“Yes, I promise.” She turned around as she felt a soft touch at her shoulder, and saw Cecco standing behind her, while several of his comrades lifted Cookson up and joked about to have “a pretty cook wit’ a kind smile instead of a sour-faced, ol’ tar”.
“Miss Wendy? I can clean t’e dishes.”
“And I can do t’e tables,” Mason called.
Smee took one of her hands in his and smiled. “Soft fingers are sensitive. May I offer my help peeling potatoes?”
“And I can butcher the meat!” Jukes called and drew his cutlass, swinging it wildly in the air. “I’m damn good wit’ t’at!”
“Ye should take a CHICKEN to pieces, not a landlubber!” Mullins grinned and the crew roared with laughter, as the tattooed young gunman turned red.
James shook his head again. What the hell -- had the girl even changed the hearts of his bad humored and grim pirates?

Peter looked at their table and frowned. Potatoes, apples, coconuts, strawberries and three rabbits. It was enough to fill their hungry stomachs, but nonetheless, he missed Wendy’s delicious cooking Yes, he could grill them, and Weasel knew how to make a sort of cold sweet jam. But there was no bread, and they had eaten potatoes for the last three days. Of course, he could go to the Indians. Tiger-Lily’s mother always gave them bread, but he felt like doing something heroic, something fitted to a mighty leader. And what was better than getting something they needed by doing something dangerous? And – by the way – he felt the unwelcome urge to check in on Wendy.
Even though he was still angry and hurt, and his childish stubbornness forbade him even to think of her, his heart was another matter. He simply couldn’t forget her sad eyes and the hidden tears in her voice. It haunted him. Deep inside, he knew that she had never meant to hurt him, and it was true that she had never betrayed him. Otherwise, Hook would have shown up at the new hideout weeks ago and had tried to kill him.
But Peter’s pride had taken a hard blow, and he wasn’t used to be the one defeated. So he had reacted fiercely, in cold anger – only now to suffer from an unfamiliar sensation -- guilt.
“What are you thinking about, Peter?” Nibs asked and looked at his friend, who took a deep breath and seemed to come back from far away.
“We need more bread,” he murmured.
Curly nodded. “Yes, but it will take some time to bake it and--”
“I don’t think we’ll bake it!” Peter made his decision, and a cocky grin spread over his face. His friends mirrored his expression, grins breaking out all over the room. That was the Peter Pan they all knew! “I think, since the Jolly Roger has added cargo, we should take care that she doesn’t carry too much weight!” All of them understood what he meant, and smirked. “Hook thinks I am weak, because of a bump on my head, so I have to make sure that the old codfish knows otherwise!”
The Lost Boys cheered, only Michael, John and Slightly remained silent. “Peter? He let you go and--” Slightly began and met the firm glance of his friend.
“That doesn’t mean that I have to stay away!” He looked around. “Start the meal. I’ll be right back with fresh bread!”
“You can’t go alone!” Piper chirped. “What, if he catches you?”
“He won’t! I’m too clever for him!” His fists went to his hips and he cocked his head.
“But--”
“He won’t catch me! I’ll bet on it!”
Piper bit his lips and grinned suddenly. “Done! If I win, then I’ll make sure that you escape from the ship.”
“Hey!” Nibs protested. “I’m the one who plans the battles!”
Piper simply ignored him. “And if you win, then I do the dishes for the next three days!”
The Lost Boys cheered and Peter grinned. “I’ll take that bet!” He glanced around him. “As I told you, make dinner – I’ll only be gone a few minutes!” With this, he dashed to the hidden door, pushed through it, closed it carefully behind him and took off into the evening-sky, Tinker Bell at his side.

“For the last time, gentlemen: OUT!” The door to the galley was shut, blocking out four curious and obviously hungry pirates, allowing an annoyed Wendy a bit of solitude in the ship’s galley. It was evening, and she was almost finished with their dinner. Several of the men had taken care that the tables were set – even the one in the captain’s quarters – and most of the crew had made themselves useful by peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables. Giant pots now simmered on the great stove and an intoxicating aroma drifted through the lower decks of the Jolly Roger, luring more and more buccaneers toward the galley, only to be sent away with a short scolding.
Thinking back at James’ perplexed face (as she had locked him out, too) Wendy had to chuckle again. Of course, Hook had remained in the galley at first to make sure the men would behave and that everything was going to be all right. But after he had grumbled countless times that “this pot is too heavy for you,” “this knife is too sharp” and “be careful with that oven,” she had thrown him out (with kind words and a kiss, but thrown him out, nonetheless). Which didn’t dawn on him until the door closed behind him. Several of his men, who had been lollygagging near the galley, had started to smirk, but a short bark from him -- “Don’t you have anything to do?” – got them back to work. He had strode back to his cabin, pouting slightly without recognizing it.
Wendy sighed. Yes, it really was a lot of work to cook for over sixty men, but she felt wonderful, even as she wished for a key to the door to prevent the curious crew from sneaking peeks over and over again. Bending down to look in the oven, she turned and basted the meat, smiling when she saw the dark brown color of the joints. She returned to the table, sat down and started to grind the fresh herbs for her sauce.
A soft noise from the open porthole made her look up, but there was nothing to see. It could have been a gull or—There! There was it again. Determined, Wendy stood up and went in the direction of the porthole, holding a knife tightly in her hand. At that moment, the door opened and the girl turned around startled. “Blimey! How often do I have to tell you that--”
The old face of Smee showed through crack. “Miss Wendy? Sorry for disturbing you, but the cap’n asked if there is anything he could do to help?”
Wendy rolled her eyes and chuckled. “He can help by eating everything that’s left. I think I’ve cooked too much!”
Smee grinned. “Shall I really tell him that?” The girl nodded and the boatswain vanished with a cackle.
As the door shut, Wendy remembered the odd noise and took a deep breath, berating herself for letting it slip her mind while Mr. Smee had been here. He could have investigated. But, on the other hand, he was an older man and she was able to defend herself.
It was at that moment, she heard another noise, this time from inside the galley. Sighing and hoping that it wasn’t a rat, she walked over to the pantry, from where the noise had come, and promptly bumped into a small figure leaving it. Wendy’s eyes widened as she saw the familiar good-looking face with the sandy locks and the body clad in trousers made of leaves, while a tiny golden ball soared in the air behind one small shoulder. “Peter!” For a second he grinned, while mischief danced in his eyes, then he turned serious and pressed his lips together. “What is going on?” Wendy asked after he remained silent. “No ‘hello’?”
He looked as if he wanted to snap back with something nasty, but to both of their surprise, Tink pulled on one of his stray locks and jingled, irritated. Glaring at the floor he murmured “Hello!”
The girl cocked her head, but decided to let it alone. She was glad that he had not said something hateful again. “Why are you here?” she asked softly, frowning. “Is everything all right? Do you or one of the boys need something?”
Peter frowned back at her. She wore a simple light blue dress, which matched her eyes, and an apron. Her hair was pinned up and she was perspiring from the warmth, but she shone with a happiness that showed that she missed nothing she’d left behind. In fact, she looked more beautiful than ever. He sighed. It was good to see her again, but in the same time it hurt. “No,” he said shortly.
“ ‘No’ what? ‘No, nothing is all right’ or ‘no, we need nothing’?” she wanted to know.
The eternal boy threw her a glare and once again felt his ire rising. “You know perfectly well that nothing is all right. It…” he made a gesture with his left hand, while the right was hidden on his back. “This here isn’t all right! YOU shouldn’t be here or – above all – COOKING for these… these brutes!”
Wendy smiled softly. “Mr. Cookson had an accident and made a bet with me, because of what happened all those years ago in the Black Castle.”
Peter blinked in surprise, forgetting once more that he was irritated with her. “He made a bet? After you saved his sorry behind?”
Wendy nodded and grinned. “Of course, I couldn’t resist the challenge!
This drew a grin from the boy, irritation forgotten. “Of course! And what did he dare you to do?”
The girl giggled and went back to the stove. “That I wouldn’t be able to cook well enough to satisfy the ‘fine taste’ of the crew, and that I am incapable of cooking for so many.”
Peter’s grin broadened. “Then he doesn’t know you, Wendy! Of course you can do it!”
Wendy beamed. “Thank you!” For a long moment they looked at each other, as if nothing had happened between them, then Peter’s face fell again, and he looked down. Wendy saw, and immediately offered: “Do you want to eat here as well?”
Peter’s eyes flew to hers. “What? Here?”
The girl shrugged. “Why not? I’m the master of the galley at the moment, and I get to choose who’s allowed in here. I even had to throw James out!”
For a moment, jealousy woke in the boy again, as he heard her calling his enemy by his given name. But then the picture of a bewildered Hook, door slammed in his face, appeared in his mind and he had to laugh. “I wish I could have seen his face!”
Wendy started to giggle again. “Me, too. I only heard him bellowing at his men and then storming away. I think it was quite a shock for him.” Peter chuckled and felt himself relaxing, when she spotted his hand behind his back. “What are you hiding?”
“N… Nothing,” he murmured, blushing, and his suddenly unsteady gaze wandered through the room, while Tinker Bell made a face. “You are not a good liar, Peter,” the girl sighed and stretched her hand toward him. “Let me see?” He backed off and shook his head. “Heavens, Peter, don’t pretend you’re afraid.”
That caught him. Setting his chin, he responded. “I’m not afraid of anything. And especially not you!”
“Why ever should you be?” Wendy asked. “So, come on, show me what you and the boys don’t need, but nevertheless is important enough for you to risk getting caught by the pirates!”
Narrowing his eyes, he brought his hand from behind his back revealing -- a loaf of bread, and suddenly feeling red-handed.
Wendy’s eyes widened, then she took a deep breath. “Don’t tell me that you intended to steal!”
“Hey,” Peter protested, “I only--”
Just that moment, there was a knock at the door, and before Wendy could call “Stay out!” it was pushed open and Hook entered. “Kitten, don’t you think that the message you gave Smee, is–” He stopped short when he saw the eternal boy, who glanced sharply back at him, ready to fly in a moment. “Pan!” he growled, his hand reaching for the sword. Immediately the bread flew to Peter’s left hand and he gripped his knife, also moving into fighting-stance.
“NOT in my kitchen!” Wendy interjected quickly, covering James’ hand with hers. “Stay calm, dear captain. He’s not here to challenge you.” She looked over to Peter. “And you, my friend, put your knife away – unless you want to help me with the herbs!” Both opponents looked perplexed at a very commanding Wendy and they – to their own amazement – obeyed.
“What are you doing here, boy?” Hook snapped; his dislike apparent. “When did you arrive?”
Peter propped his right hand on his hip and cocked his head. “Do I have to have a reason to visit a friend?”
James raised an eyebrow, his expression sarcastic. “A friend? The last time she saw you, you made her cry! You were behaving like an ill-bred and egoistical brat, and now you have the nerve to tell me you want to visit her as a ‘friend’?” His voice was rising.
“Have you never had a fight with a friend before and wanted to speak with him afterwards?” Pan asked, then grinned mockingly. “Oh sorry, I forgot that you don’t have any friends!”
Wendy felt James tensing, recognized his growing anger. “Stop it, Peter!” she said firmly. “I know it’s normal for you both to fight anywhere you encounter each other, but here you’re in MY domain, and here you WILL behave.”
“Wendy, you’re no fun since you turned into a lady!” the boy pouted.
“Oh, I know enough about fun, no fear!” Wendy smirked and winked at James, who understood exactly what she meant and nearly winked back at her.
“Quite true, Pan!”
Peter didn’t know what they were talking about, and an inner voice told him that he didn’t want to. Seeing his chance to escape unharmed, he sauntered to the porthole. “Have a nice evening then.”
“STOP where you are, Pan!” Hook hissed and stepped away from Wendy and toward his young opponent. “Do you really think you can show up here whenever you want, and leave without consequences?”
The boy made an innocent face. “What consequences?”
“Oh, for example coming aboard without requesting permission, as is the custom? You do know that it is a crime to board a ship without permission!”
Peter smirked. “If you want to talk about ‘crimes’ on a pirate-ship, then clean up your own doorstep.”
“Pan,” James’ voice was lowered and threatening. “Don’t push me – for her sake! You know that I am not a patient man.” His gaze found the bread. “What were you planning to do with that?”
Peter blinked at him, thought for a moment that Hook was joking. “Eat it! What else?”
“Where did you get the bread?” the pirate-captain asked in the same voice.
The boy fought a smirk and pointed to the pantry, “There.”
Wendy knew that it wouldn’t do Peter any favor if James learned about his stealing, so she interjected, “He was just asking for it when you came in.”
Peter straightened his small shoulders. “I don’t ask. I take what I want!”
Despite the tense situation, Wendy started to laugh and earned a curious and a peeved look from both males. “Where have I heard that before?” she managed to get out between giggles, went to James and wrapped one arm around his waist. “Oh, I think it was you!”
He glanced away, looking annoyed. “After all I am a pirate, my dear.”
“Yes,” she nodded and chuckled. “And the only men Peter can learn from are pirates.” She turned to Peter. “So what are you waiting for?”
The boy broke into another cheeky grin. “See? I’m acting just like you. So why you got your knickers in a twist, Hook?”
The commander groaned and shot him a dark glare. “It’s ‘Captain’ or ‘Sir’ for you, boy!”
“And for you it’s ‘Mr. Pan’!”
Wendy almost choked with laughter, while her thumb stroked gentle circles over James back, trying to soothe him. “Peter? A ‘mister’ is always a grown-up, so I don’t think that title fits you.”
Peter looked at her thoughtfully, and then at Hook, whose face was flushed with controlled irritation. “Then forget the ‘mister’.”
“How generous of you!” James retorted.
A sharp smell drifted to them and sent Wendy, panicking, to the stove. “Look, what you both have done!” She opened the pot with the vegetables and looked inside. “Drat! James? Give me one of the larger pots over there! Peter? I need a scoop. It’s over there in the drawer under the table!” She pulled the pot from the stove and gave them both a furious glare, as they were still standing where they were, looking astonished at her. “What are you two waiting for? An engraved invitation? Hurry, or I’ll lose the bet!”
The life returned to Peter, and he shot to the table, searching in the drawer hastily for the scoop. James, still perplexed, fetched a large pot and brought it to her, muttering something like “I am the captain, not the cook’s helper!”
“You offered me your help, now I need it!” Wendy replied, and waved to him to set the pot beside the one she had pulled away from the stove.
“Here!” Peter called, and pushed between her and Hook, ignoring Hook’s protest completely while he gave her the needed tool. Scooping the vegetables together with the stock into the clean pot, Wendy ‘saved’ almost the lot. Only the bottom was burned, and had to be thrown out. But she’d caught it before the taste had affected the rest of the pot.
“James? Please check the oven and baste the meat, before it goes dry. Be careful, it’s hot!” Grumbling, Hook did as he was asked, shaking his head as he pondered his situation. It really was a good thing that none of his crew saw him like this! Since when did the captain of a ship cook for the crew?
“Peter? Please stir the sauce. And don’t get into James’ way, or he will burn his fingers at the hot oven.” Grimacing, the boy obeyed and soared above Hook while he stirred the sauce.
Wendy met Tinker Bell’s gaze, who had landed beside her, watching wide-eyed as the two enemies worked side by side, and then at the mortal girl. Following the bewildered glance of the tiny fairy, Wendy realized the absurdity of the sight – Peter Pan and Captain James Hook working together, at a stove, attempting to prepare dinner – and hid a giggle. She glanced down at Tink, who saluted and pointed at her, mouthing ‘Captain Wendy’ and had the girl finally laughing again. Boy and man turned around and frowned. “What’s funny?” Peter demanded and Hook added a “Precisely my question!”
Wendy’s giggle finally escaped when she saw that they stood in exactly the same posture and wore the same expression. It was at this point that she tried very hard to repress a guffaw. “Have you ever realized how similar you two are?” She earned two dark looks and chuckled again. “All right. Out, now, and let me finish my work, before you ruin everything I’ve done the past three hours!” She lifted her hand to halt their protests. “Hush, please! No arguments! I am not about to lose this bet just because you two can’t behave.” She smiled at them, taking the harshness out of her words. “James, would you be so kind and order a third place setting for our quarters? I think dinner will be ready within a half hour.”
“Why do you need a third place setting?” Hook asked surprised and looked at the boy beside him, suddenly comprehending what she meant. “Now, Wendy, don’t tell me that--”
“Yes, my dear, I invited him to dinner shortly before you arrived.”
“NO!” James growled. “I do not eat with wretched boys the same table! The sight of him makes me sick! I will not eat with someone with the table manners of a monkey!”
Peter’s fists met his hips. “I have WHAT?”
Hook smirked down at him. “The table manners of a monkey!” he repeated very slowly as if talking to a retarded infant.
The boy’s cheeks flamed deep red. “I have better table manners than YOU, codfish!”
“Prove it!” Hook spat.
“I will!” Peter shot back. “I accept the invitation, and you can see my table manners with your own eyes!”
“Our quarters will look like a garbage heap!” James told Wendy, then back to Peter, “I’ll bet you don’t even know how to use a fork! But after all, it will give me something to laugh about!”
Peter stood tall. “Do you want to bet me?”
James turned completely towards him and straightened his shoulders. “You challenge me to a bet, Pan?”
The boy only grinned and cocked his head. “Aye, James Hook.”
“You will lose, boy! Of that there is no doubt!” James voice was a matter of fact.
“If you’re that sure of yourself, then you’ll take the bet?” Peter asked, looking straight into the blue eyes in front of him, which narrowed, but didn’t redden, as the boy had thought they would. Instead, an evil smirk spread over Hook’s face.
The pirate-captain could never resist a challenge. “Proud and insolent youth, what are you ready to forfeit, when you lose?”
Peter shrugged, considering it for a moment. “I won’t lose, but if you insist on naming a prize now, then I … I’ll swab the deck.”
Hook’s face lit up. “Excellent! It would be delightful to see you doing something useful for the first time in your miserable extended life!”
The boy ignored this. “And what are you going to do, after I win?”
James hesitated a moment and exchanged a glare with Wendy, who lifted a brow. “Hmmm. This takes some consideration.” He raised his chin haughtily, scratching it thoughtfully with the back of the hook. “What would you say if I invited you and all the Lost Boys to dinner with us, after Cookson has recovered from his accident?”
Peter looked warily at him. “You once tried to poison me!”
Hook sighed, as though in ultimate patience. “Pan, if I wanted you dead, you already would be. But because of our beauty here, your sorry skin is safe from me.” He lifted his index finger in a threatening gesture. “Which doesn’t mean that you are safe from a spanking, if you deserve it!”
“Just try it, Hook!” the boy grumbled, and finally nodded. “All right, your prize sounds good as well.” He offered his hand. “Done!”
For a long moment, James looked down at the grubby hand, then he took it in his left hand, shaking it briefly before they both jerked their hands back, as if they were burned. Wendy had watched the entire drama, and now shook her head. “I really have to ask, which of them is the boy?” she said under her breath to Tinker Bell, who started to giggle. Then she looked back at both interlopers. “All right, now that everything is settled: OUT!”
“But--” they both said in the same insulted tone.
“No ‘buts’!” She gave them a gentle smile. “You two are distracting me too much.” She winked at Hook, who grinned back.
“That’s the only argument I would accept, my dear!”
She giggled, feeling a deep joy as they stood calmly side by side. It was a sight she wanted to last forever, but she had to think of dinner, and so she made a gesture with her head to the door. “Gentlemen?”
Peter gave Hook a challenging smile and bowed mockingly. “After you, SIR!”
”As is right,” he growled deep in his throat. James strode to the door and tore it open, which caught the seven lurking men behind it by surprise. Frowning deeply, he snarled: “That will cost you an extra watch, gentlemen!” and pushed through them, a grinning Peter Pan on his heels. “Don’t dawdle, boy!” he barked over his shoulder and almost tripped over the first stair.
“I won’t, but you should watch where you’re going!” the boy answered cheerfully.
“Shut up!” Hook hissed. “SMEE?” he bellowed, and the old boatswain came running, but stopped short when he saw Peter beside his commander.
“Yes, Cap’n?”
“Set a third setting at my table. And fetch a carafe with fresh water. I don’t want to hear any excuses that I won this bet by getting the boy drunk!”
Smee looked after his captain and his youthful nemesis, stunned, both storming up the companionway, and scratched his head. What bet?
James reached the deck, ignored the curious and perplexed faces of the men around him, and went t up to the quarterdeck, Peter at his side. The boy seemed not to mind that he had manoeuvred himself into a situation which could get very uncomfortable for him. Hook was confident that Peter didn’t know any kind of manners, and the prospect of watching the boy performing menial physical labor was almost too good to be true. “I hope you won’t whine about sore hands and scraped knees when you’re done with the deck.”
Peter saw the hidden smirk on Hook’s face, and grinned back. “No danger of that, because I will NOT lose this bet. Poor Hook, all that good food for all those boys you loathe!”
A ripple of laughter escaped the pirate-captain. “I will invite your friends, nevertheless. But not for dinner, but to watch you paying your debt!” He glanced down at the boy. “Poor Pan!” he taunted. “This will make the rounds all over Neverland. You -- on your knees and swabbing my deck! I’m going to eat this up like Christmas pudding!”
“Don’t count your chickens yet!” the boy grumbled. “Otherwise, the disappointment will be too rough on you!”
They had reached the door to Hook’s quarters and the captain opened it, mirroring Peter’s mocking bow from several minutes earlier. “After you, boy!”
Peter straightened his shoulders and gave him a polite smile. “As is right, Captain!”
Swearing under his breath, James followed him, shutting the door behind them, leaving a gaping crew behind watching from every part of the ship.

TBC…
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In the swirl of passion