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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
- 28
- 29
- 30
Chapter 29 – A Bet Gone Awry

Except for the constant sound of the water and the typical flexing of planks, it was silent inside the captain’s quarters. Hook stood at his desk, arms folded, never taking his eyes off Peter.
The object of his observation sat quietly at the dining table, looking out the window, ignoring the captain completely. He knew that Hook was trying to intimidate him by standing over him, glaring, but at least, he thought, his tall enemy didn’t draw his sword or use his hook. This was – after all – a start.
Irritated, James watched Peter and asked himself for the umpteenth time why he had ever bothered to take that stupid bet. The damn little brat had cut off his hand, played pranks on him time and time again, and had done everything he could think of to make his whole life a misery since he found himself at the island. And that selfsame boy now sat -- here -- in his cabin -- and waited for a specially prepared dinner to arrive, to prove that he had table manners! Ha, he really had gone crazy!
On the other hand, the image of a kneeling Pan, swabbing his deck, was worth it!
After several very long minutes, James decided that he had established his position enough. The boy seemed calm, and didn’t appear to mind that he was inside the lion’s den, practically in his enemy’s hand. Well, two could play this game. Sitting down behind his desk, Hook took his log and read the last entries again, pretended that the boy wasn’t there.
Peter watched him out of the corner of his eye and tried to at least appear relaxed. Of course he knew where he was, and when he spotted the pistol lying next to the captain on the desk, he realized that Hook could easily shoot him here and now if he decided to. The only guarantee he had was Wendy’s influence over the captain. And his own ability to fly.
A soft croaking noise distracted him, and he looked over his shoulder, seeing the two parrots sitting in the -- now open -- cage. He remembered the second bird from his short visit to this cabin during the rescue episode, and he saw that the one-eyed, ugly Short Tom seemed to be very attached to it. Curious, Peter stood up and walked to the cage, feeling Hook’s piercing gaze at his back, but still ignoring the man.
The new parrot glared up at him and croaked once more. Peter smiled. He always liked animals. “Hey, you two!” he greeted with a gentle voice and stretched his hand towards them. The new parrot watched him warily and finally nibbled at his finger. Amused, he looked at Short Tom, who moved closer to the female. “Seems you got a lady, too, hm?”
Hook watched this with growing interest. Short Tom didn’t like strangers, and if someone unfamiliar came too near his cage, he usually grew agitated. But this time, the bird simply glanced at the boy and remained silent. Pan’s influence on the animals was obvious. Shaking his head, James stood up and went to the dining table, filling a glass with wine for himself and – as regarding the bet –a glass of water for his unwelcome guest.
Peter had tensed when he heard movement behind him, but his pride didn’t allow him to glance at Hook. He didn’t want to show his opponent even the slightest sign of weakness. Of course, James saw through this when he noticed the boy’s shoulders tighten, and he had to admit, once again, that the boy really had courage, to show him his back and to reveal such vulnerability by doing so.
“Would you care for something to drink?”
Peter started as the deep voice of the captain broke the silence, and turned toward the captain, glancing at the two glasses full of distrust, and folded his arms in front of his chest. “I prefer a glass filled by myself!”
Hook sighed, the corners of his mouth turned down. “Boy, don’t kick a corpse! If I wanted you dead, you already would be!” He wondered how often he’d have to repeat this. Yes, he had once tried to poison the brat, but hadn’t he reassured him that his skin was safe now? And – by the way – it was bad form to show distrust like this, after they had agreed on a truce for the next few hours. “Do you think it is polite to refuse a drink offered by your host?” he growled and Peter lifted a brow.
“As far as I remember, WENDY is my host and not you.”
“This is MY cabin, boy!” the pirate snapped back.
“It belongs to BOTH of you. You said it yourself: ‘OUR cabin will look—‘ and then you said all those nice things you usually say about me!” Peter grinned when he saw the captain’s eyes narrowing. Collecting his courage, he stepped to the table and took the glass. “Last chance, Captain, for just in case that the water isn’t as it should be. Otherwise, you will invite the anger of your lady!” For a moment, Hook could only gape at him with open mouth. That damn, bold, ungrateful, arrogant, misbegotten son of an imp – Peter emptied the glass completely and set it down. “What is it, Captain, not thirsty?” he asked in a neutral tone and pointed at the glass, still full of wine, while he took his seat again. James swallowed his angry comment and sipped the rich liquid.
No! He would not let this impudent little pain in the neck ruin the evening by angering him further. Sitting down in his favorite chair, he simply lit his double cigars and forced himself to ask politely: “Do you mind?”
Peter shrugged. “If you like, I don’t mind cigar-smoke.”
The boy was attempting courtesy; there was no doubt of it. Hiding a smirk, Hook leaned back and blew a smoke ring into the air, watching it lazily while he forced his muscles to relax. Under hooded eyes he looked at Peter, who glanced at the cutlery and wrinkled his forehead. Trying his best to sound neutral, James rose to speak: “Any questions about it, Pan?”
“About what?” the boy asked sharply.
The captain pointed with his iron prosthesis at the table. “About the use of a knife, besides in battle.”
Peter grinned. “You have to get up earlier than that to beat me, Ho-- Captain. Do you really think I would stumble into your trap?”
Hook’s mouth curled slightly. “It wouldn’t be the first time!”
The crystal blue eyes of the boy sparkled with mischief. “You’re right. But it didn’t lead to anything – as you can see. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here now and showing you how to behave at dinner.”
Any other time, this would have been enough to enrage him completely, but now Hook only chuckled. “You will never change, Pan. Always the big mouth!” He drew at the cigar-holder again. “Perhaps it’s a sort of mask you wear, to hide your uncertainty.”
Peter cocked his head. “Me? Uncertain? Is this what you dream about at night, Sir?”
Hook grinned broadly. “What I dream about I’m certain you don’t want to know!”
Leaning back as well, the leader of the Lost Boys shook his head. “You’re probably right about that. I really couldn’t care one whit less about what YOU dream about.” He looked toward the ceiling and pretended to relax. Never would he show Hook that he was nervous, even if it had nothing to do with the bet. But to sit here, facing his sworn enemy, fencing with words across a table was new for him.
James watched him through the blue smoke, trying to discern what was going on in the childish mind of the boy. It was atypical that he sat this calmly for more than several minutes – Peter was simply too vital for it.
Peter felt the glare and looked back at his opponent. Suddenly the boy’s face wreathed into a grin, and he had to laugh. “Do you realize how strange this is?”
At this, Hook could not help himself but had to laugh as well. “Aye! It is more than strange. And why has it happened at all? Because of a special young lady who has been able to manipulate us even while she was still a child.”
Peter grinned. “Don’t mourn. Why should you have it better than me?” He looked down on the folded hands in his lap and made a face. “Why DO males listen to females?”
A low chuckle escaped James’ throat. “That is a question, Pan, that even the wisest of the wise can’t answer.”
“Then we both have a problem.”
At this dry statement, Hook had to laugh again. “Don’t let her hear you, Pan, or you’ll see another side of your sweet Wendy-bird. On the other hand,” he thought aloud, “she really can be a snarling wildcat with sharp claws and a quick mind.”
A smirk appeared on Peter’s face. “You’re talking about what you’ve seen with her.”
Hook nodded before he was able to stop himself – or to even think about it. “Yes. To be dismissed from the galley of your own ship is hard to take. Not to mention being rudely awakened by a snowball or—“ He clapped his mouth shut and frowned at the giggling boy. Had he really talked to this rascal with an oversized ego like—like they were mates?
It was that moment Smee gave a knock at the door and opened it, “Miss Wendy has arrived with dinner, Sir!”
James stood and saw that Peter had already done the same. Lifting a brow – the boy knew! – he watched the entrance of four of his men assisting, and a smiling Wendy in their midst, carrying a plate with the joint, decorated with fresh herbs. Mullins, who carried a dish with the potatoes and Cecco, who carried the vegetables in a tureen, grinned and looked hungrily at the dinner. Smee carried the bowl with the soup and Jukes the sauceboat. Wendy hid a smile when she saw the two adversaries standing side by side at the dining table. She had heard James’ laugher outside and the giggle of Peter and hadn’t dared to trust her ears at first, but after a look at the perplexed faces of the crewmen, she realized that she really had heard them getting along with each other. Or so it seemed, because after Mullins and Cecco had set the dishes on the table, she could see both enemies shooting glares at each other – almost as if they had just remembered their old animosity toward the other.
She thanked the men for their help, and released them with a “Enjoy your meal.” Pleased and nodding, the four of them stormed out as soon as they had received the silent dismissal from their commander, and went down to the common-room, looking forward to dinner. Wendy looked at James and Peter, still standing at the table, waiting for her to sit down. “Please, have a seat,” she smiled, while she untied the apron and hung it over the Spanish wall. “I will serve you dinner.” They exchanged a glance and obeyed, neither taking his eyes off the other. But as Wendy opened the tureen and started to fill their plates, they both looked curiously at the food, and their faces broke into identical smiles.
It really looked and smelled delicious, as only food in Neverland can look and smell, better than anything you or I have ever tasted. The girl had to swallow a giggle when she saw the eager faces of the men she cared for most. It was impossible to say who was more delighted or appreciative. After she served, and James had refilled the glasses, she moved to sit in her chair, but Hook was already at her side and offered her the seat, while Peter stood as well and bowed slightly to her. Hiding another chuckle– they both seemed to want to overtrump each other with courtesy – she sat down, nodding thank you to James. “You’re welcome, my dear!” She took her napkin and smiled around with the words: “Bon appetit!”
Repeating the polite bon mot, both males followed her example. With vigilant glances, Hook observed how Peter took the spoon without any hesitation, laid his left wrist beside the left side of the soup-plate, and began to eat. And to James’ surprise, the boy sat up straight, never bending over the plate. Damn! It seemed that he had underestimated the little pest – again!
Wendy exchanged a quick glance with James and gave him a tender smile, smoothed him so once again. She could almost hear his silent grumbling, while he started to eat – only to look up after the first bit in wonder. “This really is delicious, my sweet,” he said in surprise.
A proud smile was the answer, which said, Told you so.
Peter gave Hook a glare, then looked to Wendy. “He’s right.”
“Oh, what a surprise!” James murmured, but was ignored by the boy.
“It’s just like all your cooking: terrific!” Peter continued.
James frowned and lifted one brow. “Don’t tell me that you had her cooking for that whole pathetic gang of yours!”
Wendy opened her mouth to protest, but Peter was quicker. “The same way you have her cooking for your pathetic gang you call a crew – Captain!” he added in the most polite tone possible.
James stared at him, but before he could retort, Wendy interjected, “Might I remind you both that the ‘she’ and ‘her’ to whom you refer is in the same room?”
Pink frosting his cheeks, Peter gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry!”
“Your pardon, kitten.”
Breathing a sigh, Wendy finished her soup – yes, she really had done a good job with the tomato-soup, using fresh herbs and served with fresh bread – and waited until the adversaries had emptied their bowls as well.
While Wendy collected their dishes, James gave a sceptical glance toward Peter’s napkin, but to his disappointment, he couldn’t see any stain on it. He met the triumphant gaze of the boy, and once again felt anger rising in him. He decided to provoke a reaction from Peter, which could be useful for his advantage. James pasted a gentle, almost benevolent smile under his moustache. “Well done, my boy, but even an infant can use a spoon. It’s the first piece of cutlery a child learns to use.”
Peter felt his pulse rising and opened his mouth for a spiteful retort, but stopped himself when he recognized the look of expectation in Hook’s smug expression. This grown-up wanted to provoke him, he remembered. Swallowing his comment down, he forced a smile. “Very naughty, Captain. I think it’s time you get one point subtracted!”
James’ eyes widened. “What did you say?”
“You heard me well enough, Sir!”
Before Hook could answer, the three of them felt a telltale mental pressure, and both birds started to croak. Remember exactly what this meant, James looked toward the casement, and sure enough, he saw -- not one but two -- tiny creatures soaring into the cabin. One of them was the queen, looking lovelier than ever in a silver dress, and the other one was – of course! – Tinker Bell, who immediately flew to Peter and sat down on the table beside his plate, ringing that she had informed the Lost Boys not to worry, that he would stay on the ship longer than planned. The queen landed gracefully in the middle of the table, and Peter and Hook bowed slightly. “Good evening, Your Majesty.”
“Madame, welcome to my ship!”
The magical creature lifted one brow and exchanged a look with Wendy, obviously a trifle bemused. “Tink told me about your silly bet.” She glanced around her and took in the situation before she turned toward both males. “I think you two need an arbitrator!”
“With all respect, Your Majesty, but I think—“
“—That you neither of you will ever give the other one a bit of credit!” she interrupted and sat down. “I am a neutral observer, and, by the way, I want to know if you, Peter Pan, still remember the manners I taught you so many years ago.”
James’ chin fell. “YOU taught him?” he started and glared at the boy. “And of course you didn’t mention who your tutor was.”
Peter shrugged. “Why should I? You didn’t bother to ask, only laughed at me. YOU challenged me to this bet, now finish it!”
Hook looked baffled at Wendy. “Did you know about their arrangement?”
Wendy shook her head. “No, James, but you were raised among noble society, so I don’t see any disadvantage for you in that quarter.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “YOU grew up with nobility? Why in the name of all the seas should anyone waste time teaching a pirate how to behave?”
Hook had stopped, utensil raised, and looked firmly at his surprised young opponent. “Has it never occurred to you, boy, that I have my own history? That is a different one than yours? Not all boys run away when they are still too young to count to three because they are afraid of life.”
It was a blow to the gut, a verbal slap – and Peter reacted as he usually did in such situations. “Better to run away and live a life of joy and fun than to grow as old and bitter as you, codfish!”
Still the polite smile gleamed on Hook’s face. “First, my boy, I am only somewhere in my thirties, which is NOT old! And second: Who says that I’m bitter? Yes, I WAS bitter, until weeks ago, thanks to you, but with someone comes who cares for you and brightens a dark life, even someone like me can forget the old insults.”
“But you don’t forget how to hand them out!” Peter answered quietly, straightening his shoulders; once again painfully reminded that his Wendy was now Hook’s Wendy.
“Pan, if I were allowed to injure you, it would hurt far worse than words.”
“Hook, you’re probably as good with your tongue as you are with your sword!”
The pirate lifted both brows. “If you want a demonstration, then—“
Wendy’s calm voice interrupted a further argument. “The only thing that both of you have to demonstrate are your table-manners. And this conversation is not suitable for dinner!”
“My thoughts exactly,” the fairy-queen nodded firmly.
Glaring at each other, Peter and Hook sat back and waited until the plates were filled with the second course and began to eat; again, each watching the other sharply. After several tense moments, Wendy decided that enough was enough. “Are you both displeased with my cooking, or are you too involved with eating to remember the chef?”
A faint pink stole into Hook’s cheeks and he put his fork down. “I’m sorry, Wendy. It is a dinner worthy of a king.”
His honesty and embarrassment made her chuckle. “In this case a pirate-king.”
Surprised he cocked his head. “You remember that … my joke?”
“You mean your saucy flirting as you seduced an innocent girl in an ancient ruin?”
Hook grinned. “Yes, an innocent girl with the ferocity of a lioness. The scratches were visible even after three days.”
Wendy giggled. “Serves you right!”
The fairy-queen and Tink smiled, while Peter looked uncomprehendingly between the two adults. “You scratched him?” he asked bewildered, and glanced at his adversary.
A faint smile came over the man’s features. “Aye. As I told you: she has sharp claws.”
“-- And is a hell of wildcat,” Peter added.
“WHAT did you say about me?” Wendy demanded, shocked, then annoyed at a the broad smile on her captain.
“Only the truth, my darling! Only the truth!”
“I hate to admit it, but he is right – again!” Peter nodded, and both males exchanged an amused glare, forgetting their old enmity momentarily.
Wendy laid fork and knife aside and pressed her lips together – until she saw the rare moment of understanding between her men. Yes, this little truce was at her expense, but suddenly she didn’t mind. Not if it meant that Peter and James were getting along. But she would make James pay for his … compliments … “Wait, until we’re alone, darling, and you find a whole new understanding of what it means to bed a ‘wildcat’.” With that she filled her own and James’ glasses, and, after an assessing glance at Peter’s drink, she poured a small amount of the wine into his glass, too. “Fair is fair,” she smiled.
Ignoring the bewildered glares of the males and the knowing smiles of the both fairies, she continued to eat. After a moment, Peter and her captain did the same, watching the other’s every single movement. James subdued a groan. He couldn’t deny it – even if he so badly wanted to – but the boy did know how to behave at table. There wasn’t one wrong move, no mistake in any of his manners. Damn it all to hell! He was very near to losing this cursed bet! He had to so something, or within the next few days, he would have a ship-ful of boys again, and even have to invite them to dinner! No! Never! But what to do? The deportment of the little pest across from him was impeccable, and it didn’t look like he’d slip up. Hook’s glance went to the two fairies and then to Wendy, who peacefully ate her dinner, and who would become very irritated with him if he did anything unfair to his own advantage. But he couldn’t let this brat win! His pride had already received a serious blow, and he wouldn’t allow any further damage to it. So, again: what to do?
His gaze found the sauceboat, set on a saucer, and an idea formed. “Peter, would you hand me the sauceboat, please?” he asked and met the wary glare of the boy. Brimstone and gall, but the churl was canny as a fox, he had to admit.
Peter laid fork and knife aside and stood up to reach it better. “Of course, Captain.” He carefully lifted the sauceboat and held it in Hook’s direction, who pointed at the small ladle.
“Don’t forget that, boy. It could cost you a point.”
A grin was his answer. “One step after another, Sir.”
He looked at the ladle and moved to take it, when suddenly the fairy-queen shot into the air and hovered in front of a surprised pirate-captain. “Don’t you dare!” she hissed, and James quickly pulled his leg back, which he had stretched out to give the boy a soft kick which would cause him stumble.
Peter started as well – and felt the weight of the sauceboat shifting on its plate. Letting the ladle fall he gripped the sauceboat to prevent the threatened catastrophe. It was hot, and he burnt his fingers as the hot gravy sloshed over the spout, and flowed over his right hand onto the table, but he didn’t let go of the porcelain.
Wendy was up in second and took the sauceboat from him, wrapping his hand in her napkin. “Does it hurt?” she asked worried, looking into his tearing eyes. Peter gritted his teeth and glanced at the fairy-queen, who had pressed her hands to her mouth, and then to a leering Hook.
“I think you lost, Pan!”
“You were trying something! Otherwise—“
“Of course. I wanted some sauce, that’s all.” He looked with false compassion at the boy. “Cool your hand, Peter, you’ll need it tomorrow while you swab the deck. The water is over there.” He pointed at the Spanish wall.
Wendy’s gaze travelled between the opponents and then she saw the anger on the queen’s tiny face and the gleam in the forget-me-not-blue depths of the pirate. “James?” she asked slowly. “Her Majesty must have interrupted for a reason. And I suspect what it might have been.”
His transformed expression of complete innocence confirmed her suspicions. “I don’t know what you mean, my dear.”
Wendy narrowed her eyes. “We’ll talk about this later – after I look after Peter’s burn.” She led the angry boy behind the Spanish wall and washed his hand, followed by a nervous Tinker Bell.
The girl examined Peter’s fingers. They were red, and she quickly poured some water into a dish and the boy put his hand into it. “Thank you,” he murmured and felt Wendy’s finger brushing over his cheek.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” she whispered. “And this will not influence the results of the bet. I’ll take care of it,” she added firmly. “Stay here and cool your hand!” With that, she came around the Spanish wall and strode towards her captain, propping her fists at her small waist.
“Something wrong with the urchin?” Hook asked and reached for the potatoes, only to find his wrist captured in a surprisingly strong grip.
“You know exactly what’s wrong – not only with Peter, but with your own despicable behaviour. What would you say if your little scheme cost you, say, ten points?”
He stared at her. “What scheme, m’dear? I simply asked him to give me the sauceboat and he tripped. Like Cookson. Anything can happen on a ship. It moves, you know.”
“Don’t give me that, James!” He could see she really was angry now, “You were cheating, and because our little guest tried to stop you, Peter started and spilled the gravy. He even burned his fingers.”
“Lucky for the little boor he still has fingers on the right to burn!” As the retort left his mouth, he realized his mistake. A very big mistake!
Wendy’s eyes shot daggers. “Bad form, James! Really bad form! I thought you noble enough to win or to lose a bet in honest competition, and not by playing tricks! And didn’t you say just now that you’d forgotten your bitterness because of me being in your life? Was this the truth, or just fancy words to win a verbal round against a small boy?” She saw his eyes widening and the shock on his face, but – irritated as she was – she didn’t care. “Maybe you should think about your own bad manners before you challenge someone!”
Hook swallowed. Heavens, Wendy had never been angry with him, and, normally, a powerful man like himself would laugh about her girlish behaviour. But in truth, he felt like a scolded little boy, caught red-handed in a wicked prank. He collected his thoughts. “Calm down, my sweet. It is only a bet to show the boy his place and—“
“You don’t get it, James. I don’t care about the bet, or the prize, but I do care about what you’re willing to do to win it!”
“Don’t, Wendy,” Peter’s voice sounded from the Spanish wall. “I will win this bet, no matter what he does.”
“You’ve already lost, Pan!” Hook said, his voice hard. “If you don’t believe it, then have a look at the table and—“
Peter came around the wall towards him, ignoring the ringing of Tink and the gestures to shut up from the fairy-queen. “YOU should have lost by now, because you cheated!”
“Oh, if THAT’s what it takes to lose, then I won ages ago – because ever since I got here, you’ve been using your tricks on me!” Hook’s face started to turn red.
“I’m talking about the bet, not some joke you’re too grown-up to understand!”
“JOKE?” Hook rose from his chair. “You call those brutal pranks ‘jokes’?”
“Who are YOU to talk about brutal? You’re the one who hunts CHILDREN, old man!”
The pirate-captain growled deeply in his throat and opened his mouth for a sharp reply, as Wendy’ rose to her feet, hands slamming the table, and her outburst rang in their ears. “STOP. THIS. IMMEDIATELY!!” Shocked, Hook and Peter both shut up and gaped at the furious girl. “I don’t believe it! You two make a bet about something both of you are completely incapable of winning, because NEITHER of you knows how to keep the simplest rules of thoughtfulness and consideration!”
“But Wendy,” Peter started, and pointed at Hook, “he—“
“You never use your finger to point at someone, and you never ever point out another’s faults, Peter! And you, James, should know better than to use the same strategies as your opponent. You accuse Peter of childish behaviour, but your own is no better!” Too taken aback to retort, Hook could only look at his enraged girl. “I thought you both civilized enough to stay at the same table for a couple of hours without jumping down the other’s throat, but perhaps I expected too much. Why would I ever think that a pirate and a wild boy could behave like gentlemen?” she growled, eyes flashing at two astonished males while she gestured towards the table. “I worked for hours creating a fine dinner, and this is your thanks?”
“Wendy,” Hook began softly, but she cut him off.
“I don’t want to hear it! From either of you!” She took a deep breath. “But I will not allow my evening to be ruined by two stubborn, arrogant, ill-mannered idiots! Attack one other. Attempt to kill each other – I. Do. Not. Care!” She turned around and stormed towards the door.
“Wh … where are you going?” Peter stuttered.
She gave him an angry glare. “There are plenty of grateful souls on this ship who are, at this moment, appreciating my hard work, and know how to have a good time. I wish you both the same – and that means, if you both can overcome your oversized egos and refrain from cutting each other’s throats!”
“Wendy, calm down, love. I’ll call this bet off and—“
“Don’t trouble yourself, James!” Wendy snapped. “I wouldn’t want to spoil your appreciation of my dinner by forcing you to swallow that nasty pride of yours and back down in front of your – so-called -- ‘enemy’,” she turned to leave, then swung back around at the open door, “who, incidentally, saved your LIFE!” With a loud bang the door slammed shut behind her, and she stomped off into the evening.
Peter and James stood, shocked and silent, looking at the closed door. It was several moments before Peter whispered: “I’ve never seen her that angry. Do you think we might have, uh, overdone it?”
He glanced at the abashed Hook, who slowly nodded. “Could be,” he murmured. “It certainly wasn’t polite for us to… to…“ He searched for the correct word.
“To spoil everything?” the boy asked quietly, remembering the scene after the Indian ceremony over four years ago.
“Yes. Exactly.” James sighed and returned to the table. His gaze wandered over the plates and tureens. “It really is pure magic, what she prepared for us, and we—“ He stopped and took a deep breath. “It’s my fault,” he mumbled and met the irritated gaze of the fairy-queen. He knew what she wanted. He glared over his shoulder at the boy. “I didn’t want to lose, so I planned to trap you,” he confessed reluctantly
Peter folded his arms. “So you really were up to something?”
Hook nodded and sat down. “Aye.”
“I knew it,” the boy growled. “You can’t be trusted!” Then his glance travelled to Wendy’s empty seat, and let himself fall into his chair. “But I think, in this case we both bungled it.”
For the first time since the argument started, the fairy-queen rose to speak again. “These are the first sensible words I’ve heard you speak tonight. What were you thinking, insulting the girl you both love in this way?” She cut off Peter’s protest. “Don’t you dare deny it, Peter Pan! You love her, even if it is in a different way than this arrogant mortal man over there does!”
Hook rubbed his face. “With all respect, Your Majesty, but I don’t need a speech like this right now. I know that I behaved badly.”
Peter cocked his head. “So you lost!”
James gave him a sour look. “Is that the only thing that counts to you, boy? That silly bet?”
Suddenly, Peter felt ashamed under the sad and tired look of his enemy, and lowered his gaze. “No. Wendy counts more. But—“
“If this whole thing is that important to you, then I declare you the winner.” Still Hook’s voice sounded oddly weary.
Peter shook quickly his head. “No. You’ve already called it off and … and I accept that.” Surprised, James glanced at the boy, who was as pale as he felt. For a very long moment, they looked at each other in silence.
“Are you still hungry?” James asked after a while, and Peter glanced at the table.
“It smells great, but… I’m not hungry anymore.”
Hook sighed. “I know what you mean.” He stood up and went to one of his lockers, fetched a bottle, returned to the table and filled a small clean glass with rum. He emptied it in one gulp and belched slightly. “How is it that someone like me can feel this miserable because some slip of a girl is angry with me?”
He didn’t know that he had spoken this thought aloud until Peter answered: “Yes, this time I know what YOU mean.” He leaned back in his chair. “I shouldn’t care at all what she thinks of me, because she left me and went to be with you. But I do care!” He glanced at the bottle. “How does that taste?” he asked unexpectedly.
Hook lifted a brow. “What? The rum?” As Peter nodded, he snorted softly and offered him the bottle. “Taste it, but be careful. If you aren’t used to it, it burns!” Hesitantly the boy took the bottle and poured himself a small amount in his empty glass. Sipping carefully, he felt it kick as it went down his throat, but after that, it didn’t taste bad. So he tried another sip. He met Hook’s curious gaze. “And?” the pirate-captain prompted.
“Sweet. Husky.” He worked his mouth, still tasting the liquid. “But it tastes good.”
James grinned and refilled his own glass and that of the boy, ignoring the protestations of both fairies. “A toast to the ladies. They are the most annoying and stressful creatures on God’s wide Earth, but the most tempting creatures as well!”
Peter chuckled. “To the ladies!”
Hook almost choked, and started to laugh. “Boy, if you were a little older, I would say that was the sassiest toast I ever heard!”
Frowning, Peter looked at a crimson Tinker Bell, a blushing fairy-queen, and a heartily laughing pirate. “What?” he asked uncomprehending, while he sipped again. “What you are laughing at?”
Hook only wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his right arm and gasped for air. “Peter, be glad that Wendy didn’t hear that.” Peter tried again to get an explanation out of the chuckling captain, but Hook just shook his head.
So the boy emptied his glass and asked, “May I have another?”
James shrugged. “If I were you, I’d stop it now.”
“But you’re not me,“ Peter grinned and took the bottle.
“Suit yourself!” James smirked. “But don’t whine about your headache tomorrow! Otherwise our dear Miss Darling will give me hell!”
“Give it back to her. After all, you’re the captain of this ship!”
“I don’t believe it: Are you giving me a compliment?”
Amused, he watched the boy sipping at his third glass rum. “Trust is trust!” he said, slurring a bit.
James whistled. “The wisdom of Peter Pan. I’m impressed.” He was mocking, but Peter didn’t mind. He felt a little dizzy and oddly cheerful, while he pointed at the captain’s glass. “Don’t restrain, Jamesh. We have enough in thish bottle for both … of ush.”
Hook frowned. “Don’t call me by my first name, Pan!”
“As you like, Hooky!” Laughing, Peter met the dark look of the captain and lifted the bottle. “May I (hic) offer you some of your own rum?”
James realized that the boy was getting drunk, and had to chuckle as he saw the stupid grin on the lad’s face. “You may!” he answered, deeply amused, and leaned back. “After our sweet lady has decided to spend the evening in other company, we can turn toward one of man’s best friends.”
Peter looked at him with glassy eyes. “And thish would be?”
“The rum!”

Wendy sat in the middle of the common room, surrounded by more than four dozen pirates, while she played Black Jack with Smee and – oh, wonder! – Cookson. The ship’s cook had declared her the winner of the bet, after all of his comrades had cheered her arrival and thanked her for the fabulous food. Cookson had to admit that the girl really was a brilliant cook, and after she gave him a wide smile, while he felt all eyes of the crew on him, he had finally let go of the old incident, and called her a galley-witch ‘better t’an a damn French maestro of cuisine’.
Wendy had no idea where he’d gotten this title. She doubted that he spoke French, but nevertheless, was very pleased. Deciding to forget the irritating events of the last hour, she joined the crew’s mess, and now she sat together with the Irishman and the cook and played cards, cheered by the rest of the crew.
She had drunk one small glass of rum and two glasses of wine to flush out her anger about James and Peter, and felt her mood lifting – especially after winning three rounds. The pirates watched her with amusement. “Just have a look. T’e lass looks like a lady and plays card like a gambler!” Billy Jukes grinned.
“Aye, t’ere are hidden talents in our Miss Wendy,” Cecco nodded.
Mason leaned back. “First she cooks like an angel and now she gambled like t’e devil!”
It was at that moment that Wendy won her fourth round and earned loud applause and cheers from the men around her. “T’is doesn’t look good, old Paddy!” Albino laughed at Smee, who only snorted and frowned. How could it be that this well schooled and fine little lady played cards like that?
“You’ve won, Missy!” Cecco called.
Wendy nodded. “Aye. At least one of us knows how to win fairly!”
“Shweetie, we bosh won and losht!” A dark, slurring voice sounded and suddenly the noises in the common room stopped promptly.
Wendy even didn’t glance up. “Don’t bother with coming down here, James! I have plenty of entertainment and grateful gentlemen around me!” she said coldly, but started as a boyish voice giggled: “Shee! She’sh shtill mad at ush!”
Slowly the girl turned her head and saw both grinning, glassy-eyed faces and a harmless expressions. She stood up, shocked, seeing Peter leaning on Hook, who had wrapped his left arm around the boy’s shoulders. Both were swaying slightly and started to chuckle as they saw her. “What in the world--?” she began bewildered and earned a boast from them both.
“Weeee are shtill alive!” Peter mumbled.
“Aye! An’ our froats ‘r’ not cut!” James added and made a gesture with his head for Cookson to give him a chair. “Shince when do ye play cardsh?” he asked, and Wendy woke out of her shocked state.
“James! Peter! You’re drunk!”
Peter spread his arms and laughed. “We only vishited … t’e besht friend of man!” He let himself fall into the chair which Cookson had gotten for Hook, and smiled up at the captain. “Fank you!”
Grumbling, James took the next one. “Yer welcome, lad!” Then they both glanced around at the astonished faces and had to giggle again. “What iss it, dogs? Are we at a… a funeral, or what?” James asked. “Come on, boysh! I wanna defeat thisss young brave i … i … in a card-game!”
“Never, Hooky, even if ye tried for foushand yearsh!”
First hesitating, but then realizing that their commander was too drunk and in far too good of a mood to be dangerous in the moment, Jukes, Lin, Skye and Albino fetched their instruments from the cabins and returned, as the first round of Black Jack was almost finished. “You’ve to cooount th’ pointsh, Peeder!” Hook said just then. “Come on, I’ll give you a new shance! No one hass to shay, that Jamesh Hook hass bad form!” He looked up, with bleary eyes, to a perplexed Wendy. “Even not thish beautiful, damn little witsh over there!” Wendy gaped at him, and he nodded. “Aye! Thish shweet lass meansh I had shpoiled her dinner, but that I would never do!”
Suddenly he let his cards fall, bent forward, gripped her wrist and pulled her snugly onto his lap, which brought an outcry from her, while she started to wriggle. “James! Let go!”
He shook his head. “Na, ma shweet! Shit down and relaxsh!” Wrapping his right arm around her he pressed her close to him and nipped at her throat. “ ‘at wass mean, letting your Jamesh alone wish the nasty li’l boy. But I forgive ye!”
Blushing furiously, Wendy’s gaze flew about the room. The men were grinning and chuckling, while four of them started to play a quick Reel. Her gaze met Peter’s, who laughed. “He’s a pirate, Windy-bird, sho don’t wonder!” He looked at Hook. “Another r… round?”
James nodded eagerly. “Pleasss deal me t’e cards, me boy!”
Peter obeyed, collected the cards and frowned suddenly. “It’sh dry here!”
Hook lifted both brows. “Yer right, Peeder! Bryan? Get shomeshing to drink. And then get your violin, ol’ frien’.” He rubbed his cheek at Wendy’s. “He’sh good. Irish shongsh are beautiful as you’re, me beauty!” he whispered, casting daring looks around him, as if he were telling her a great secret for nobody else to hear.
Wendy met Smee’s amused and gentle eyes, and knew that she couldn’t argue against James’ mood. Obviously, the enemies had found some truce in her absence, and she liked them better this way, far more than the hateful shouting earlier. She heard the cheerful music, the even glad singing from more than four dozen throats, and felt James’ lips and fringe of moustache as he nuzzled her cheek, while Peter glanced at her, still grinning. Sighing she closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to stay angry with them, but it was no use. She was just too happy to feel the strong arms of her captain around her and his warm breath in her hair. Groaning she gave in and gave him a quick kiss. “You’re impossible, James.”
He grinned. “Aye, love of m’ life!”
Smiling she watched him and Peter, and saw, out of the corner of her eye, two small golden figures soaring in the air. Shrugging she gave them an apologetic smile. The fairy-queen sighed, waved at her, and pulled a worried looking Tinker Bell along with her out of the port-hole. Her help would be needed tomorrow, that was certain.

TBC…
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In the swirl of passion