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By Hook or By Crook	By : OktoberBlack Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 14973 -:- 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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The characters created by J. M. Barrie are not mine; I don’t own them and I’m not making any money off of them. The characters that were not created by J. M. Barrie in this fic *are* mine, and I do own them—but I’m still not making any money off of them. Figures.

I'm on a roll here! Two chapters in one night! Woo-hoo!

By Hook or By Crook (for want of a better name)

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Marriage Preparations

I spent the night in my room, by myself, thank God. Despite being so furious, I eventually fell asleep and didn’t awaken until late the next morning when Smee unlocked my door.
“Time to get up, Miss,” he said, a cup of tea in one hand. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawning.
“What time is it?”
“Oh, we don’t have clocks here, Miss. They remind him of the way he lost his hand, y’see,” Smee replied, handing me the tea. It was cold, but I drank it anyway, remembering all those times when I had nothing to drink at all. Smee undid my chain and surprised me by removing it completely. “You’re to take a bath. Captain’s orders. And then the dressmaker’ll be here to get you all fit up for your wedding dress. Won’t that be nice, then?”
“No,” I said, frankly. I finished the tea and gave him back the cup. “But I know you’re just the messenger.”
“I wish you’d thought about that last night,” he muttered as he ushered me to the bathroom.
“I’m sorry about that, Smee,” I said, climbing into the water-filled tub. I sunk into the suds and sighed. “I’m not really angry at you.”
“Yes, well, you could have fooled me last night,” he said, sitting down on the toilet. “But I understand, Miss. The Captain is a bit… overwhelming, I suppose.”
“He’s infuriating,” I snapped. “Pass me the soap, would you?”

I washed quickly, Smee handing me a towel when I was done, his eyes averted as if that made a difference. I dried off and brushed out my hair. Hook, in his trousers, boots, and undershirt, appeared in the doorway of the bathroom.
“Well, come on then,” he said, taking my wrist and pulling me into the living room. “The dressmaker will be here shortly. We don’t have a lot of time.” He sat down on the couch and began unbuttoning his fly. “Well? Down on your knees then. You know what to do.”
“Now? Don’t I get breakfast or something at least?” I whined as I fell to my knees in front of him.
“This is your breakfast,” he leered at me, and I sighed.
“Great,” I muttered, as he pulled my head down to his lap. But I did know what to do; it wasn’t like this was an unusual position for me by this point. I took his flaccid cock into my mouth and began giving him head. I knew exactly what he liked by this point, and worked my tongue and lips up and down his erection, his hand behind my head urging me on. There was a loud knock at the front door.
“Smee?” Hook groaned. “Answer the door!” I tried to pull away, but he pushed my head down again. “Don’t even consider stopping,” he hissed at me. I shrugged and continued, hearing footsteps and voices behind me.
“Oh!” a woman exclaimed.
“One moment,” Hook said, his voice strained. His hips came off the couch as he thrust his cock deeper into my mouth. It took a little bit longer, but soon enough he came. I swallowed; what choice did I have, really? “Smee, a towel,” Hook said, pushing me away. I sat back on my haunches, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the dressmaker or Smee. Smee brought the towel. Hook wiped himself up a bit before tucking his penis back into his trousers and doing up his fly. “Now, where shall we begin?” he said, standing up. “Get up, my dear. My fiancée,” he said, introducing me to the dressmaker briefly.
“Well,” she said with a scowl, “I see we’ll have to start with the basics. Does she have any underclothes?”
“No, and that’s the way I prefer it,” Hook said, taking her samples from her and looking through them. “This one. I want this style, to the floor, with a very tight corset and a long veil.”
“Perhaps with a bit of lace here… and here?” she said. Their backs were to me as they poured over the samples. I stood there, naked, feeling a sense of déjà vu.
“No, I want to see her tattoos,” Hook said, turning and leering at me. “A pirate’s wife should show off such things.”
“Very good, Sir,” the dressmaker said. She pulled out her measuring tape. “I’ll just get her measured up here and then I’ll have it ready for a fitting in a couple of days.”
“The wedding is in a little less than a week,” Hook reminded her and she nodded as she turned to me.
“These things can’t be rushed,” she told him. “Now, arms out, that’s a good girl,” she said to me, pushing my arms up and measuring them. She measured every last bit of me, her assistant writing it all down in a little book. “Have you arranged for a caterer yet?”
“I have a cook,” Hook said.
“What about flowers?”
“Flowers?”
“A bride carries flowers down the aisle, Sir,” she said, her measuring tape flying around my body.
“I see,” Hook said, stroking his beard. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Perhaps you need a wedding consultant,” she suggested. I sighed. This was getting ridiculous.
“I don’t need flowers,” I said, my teeth gritted as she ran her tape over my breasts. “I don’t want flowers.”
“But a bride has to have flowers,” Hook said. “By Lucifer, you will have flowers!”
“I don’t want flowers!” I yelled at him, and he lunged at me, his hook flashing at my throat.
“Sir!” the dressmaker exclaimed and he growled at her.
“You. Will. Have. Flowers.” We glared at each other, and I was the first one to blink. He pulled away and slouched against the wall. “Now, what kind of flowers, do you think?”

And so it went. The dressmaker finished her measuring and took her leave, but over the course of the next two days, various other people arrived to discuss the wedding. The venue, it was decided, would be the beach because it was the easiest to defend. I hadn’t thought that would be an issue for a wedding, but apparently Peter Pan had already learned of the wedding and was planning to disrupt it. Good for him, I thought bitterly. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll kill Hook before the vows. The guest list came next, and it was clear to me that Hook was a popular man in some parts of Neverland – or if not popular, than at least respected or feared. The guest list was extensive and each invitation had to be written out by hand. None of the pirates could read or write, unfortunately, so Hook had five scribes or clerks brought in the morning of the next day to write out the invitations. He dispatched them to deliver the invitations as well, as soon as they were completed. Whenever we had people in the suite who didn’t actually have to talk to me, Hook locked me in my bedroom. When the visitors asked after the bride, Smee would explain that I was “disposed” at the moment (I assumed he meant indisposed), and thus unable to make an appearance. I listened as Hook gave orders to his cook for the wedding supper, to his tailor for a new suit, to the florist for my bouquet… to everyone and anyone involved in this affair. It was strange, because although I wanted no part of this, my second wedding, I also didn’t like Hook making all of the decisions. Of course, it wasn’t like it was a real wedding, right? I wasn’t going to say “I do,” and it was Neverland, not the real world, so it was fictional and completely illegal. Not that it mattered, really. I was stuck in Neverland and whatever magic Hook was going to invoke was going to bind me to him, so legal or not, I was going to be married.

I sat in my room and stared out through the slats of my window at the night sky. It was now the evening of the second day of wedding preparations and all seemed to be coming together. I was no longer chained to the wall or bed frame; Hook seemed to feel, I supposed, that with our wedding in less than a week, I wasn’t likely to escape. I wasn’t. I was locked in my room whenever I wasn’t needed. Smee brought me my meals and Hook visited me in my room to have sex. His sex drive was enormous, just as it was when we’d been together previously. He visited me at least three times a day, and my privates were getting extremely sore. I was tired, depressed, miserable… whatever feelings I’d had for James Hook when we’d been together before my marriage to Jason, they were gone. Before… when I was last in Neverland… I wasn’t married. Hook had just about broken my resistance and I’d felt… well, not love, no, but something. Something. Not just fear. But then I’d escaped and Jason had come into my life, and things were going so well. I peered through the slats at the darkening sky, watching the stars come out one by one.

Star light, star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight…

I closed my eyes and made my wish, wishing with every last atom of my being that Jason wasn’t dead, that he was still alive, and that I would someday see him again. I opened my eyes, peering out again, and saw the star I’d wished upon glow and twinkle in the sky. I sighed again. There was a commotion outside my door and I walked over to lean my ear against it.
“… casks of rum!” Hook was yelling.
“… Sir… can’t not have… pirates… Governor,” somebody else said. I cursed him and wished he would speak up so I could hear.

Then there was a small sound at my window. I glanced over but the room was too dark to see what was going on. I walked back to the window just in time to see one of the slats slide out of its place and fall onto my floor. What the fuck? I leaned down and picked the slat off the floor, looking at it. Then I looked at the hole in the window. The slat just above it started moving, very slowly inching its way into the room until it, too, fell to the floor. I peered through the hole made by the missing slats and looked right into the laughing face of Peter Pan.
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By Hook or By Crook