Disclaimer: Peter Pan, all characters, places, and related terms belong to J.M. Barrie.

There is Music in You

From a babe in the cradle, Wendy Moria Angela Darling thought music was a type of magic. Her mother sat at the little piano in the parlor and played a minuet; she had giggled and gurgled happily while her father twirled with her in his arms about the room. That was her first memory of music.

She could never keep still when the sounds of music beckoned to her. No matter the place or occasion, she would move, jumping, running, spinning, going where the music led her. With the music and her laughter filling the air, the world seemed so much brighter, happier, and magical to the little girl.

Sometimes she danced alone to the music. Other times Nana would run around her while barking; or John and Michael clasped hands with her as they skipped in circles. And there were the rare times their older cousins (Wendy overheard Father call them the "black sheep of the family") would visit and stamp their feet and snap their fingers; Wendy did not know this strange beat, yet she answered the music's calling all the same, trying to follow the others' movements.

As Wendy grew in height, mind, and years, the music's calling became harder to hear, to answer. She now responded with a tapping foot, or slight twirling of her skirt. And then not at all; she stood stiff and tall just as she had been taught. For it was not considered acceptable in good society for a girl of close to thirteen to simply start dancing to music (especially in the public street!) unless it was an acceptable occasion such as a ball, and then only to perform proper and prim dances.

But then there were a lost shadow, a beautiful fairy, a wonderful boy…

The girl was surprised when she discovered that same foreign rhythm she had learned so long ago from her cousins in the Neverland. She sensed the beat match the island's faint heartbeat. She heard it in the beating of the Indian drums. She felt the hard music pound through her as she watched her sweet children tumble about in their pajamas every Thursday night. She heard her name whispered as the music danced around her.

And as time wore on, the stiffness in her left her body. Her limbs began to move to the music each time it sounded out clear and loud. Her smiles and laughter came easily and happily at the music soaring through the island. She remembered how she used to dance when she'd been a little girl. And she wished to try to follow it again like before.

"Come on, Wendy. Dance with us!" the magical boy urged one Thursday night, his dirty blond curls sticking up every which way.

Momentarily Wendy was surprised. When the Neverland filled with music such as now, Peter Pan became lost in his own world, whirling joyfully and cockily, the music his only partner. Often she had seen him dance with the Indians at the village; when a young girl ventured too close, the boy rose into the air, dancing on the wind, first teeth flashing.

Tonight the music vibrated long and loud in the underground home. If the girl closed her eyes, she could hear it murmuring her name - an invitation. And it had been so long since she last danced… Wendy allowed her sewing things to be taken from her hands and to be drawn into the dance.

Everything blurred and spun. Then she caught the rhythm and, with a bright shriek, turned and jumped wildly about the house with the boys, feeling like she was flying.

Faster, faster! Here, there! the music directed her. And she laughed, attempting to keep up with the brisk pace.

Suddenly the music stopped. Without her guide, Wendy stumbled. Dizzy, she collapsed against something firm and warm, a wall. Too tired and gasping to catch her breath, she did not lift her head for a long moment, her heart racing in her ears.

Gradually the girl grew aware of music filling the air once more. This time it was a slow, soothing, quiet sound. Reminded the girl of some of the songs her mother played on the piano. A bit reluctantly, Wendy started to straighten to step back, prepared to follow the music's summons. Wendy froze when the wall she leaned against moved. She suddenly realized what she mistook for a wall was Peter's chest; his arms were loosely wrapped around her. Mortified, her face burning a bright red, jerkily she lifted her head and stepped back from the boy.

Her blue eyes widened when Peter's arms tightened, keeping her from pulling away. For a long moment the two watched each other, his eyes full of bemusement, hers with puzzlement. Why was he standing here, not dancing with the music, his partner? Why was he not pulling away like he had with the Indian girls? Why was the music not drawing her back, calling to her?

"Dance with me," Peter whispered in her hair, voice imploring.

Uncertain, Wendy gazed at the boy's shoulder, trying to understand. Closing her eyes, she focused on the sweet music. The sounds floated through the air, brushing over her softly. It did not call her name or urge her to follow as it always had before. Instead, the music surrounded her like a warm blanket, as though she was where she was supposed to be.

Sighing, the girl peeked up at Peter, wondering if he sensed the difference, too. She discovered him watching her. His mouth was curved up in that almost unnoticeable smile she had seen only once before: not cocky or teasing, but gentle and…

"Dance with me, Wendy," he repeated. The stars in his green eyes twinkled invitingly.

Shyly she nodded, a smile touching the corners of her mouth. "Yes, Peter," the girl whispered, her words carrying the weight of a promise.

Heat again rose in her cheeks as she felt him rest his cheek against her hair, his smile pleased. One of the boy's hands left her waist to take her small hand in his, their fingers interlacing. Both of their hearts beating in time with Neverland, Peter and Wendy danced, slowly, gracefully, the music circling them – on all sides, above, and below when eventually their feet left the floor. More than once the girl would begin to drift, and the boy would hold her closer.

This is where you belong. Always.

THE END