My Darling Girl *Disney fanfic*

8. Bad to the Bone

The Neverland was a large ugly ship. Black smoke puffed from its funnel and the exterior was covered in a thick layer of grime and soot. The ship was long, with a sea-soaked decking, it's hull rusted and the paintwork nearly completely chipped away. Pan carried Wendy whilst his two companions lugged John between them.

"Take him below – put him with the others." Pan directed.

He carried Wendy to what had once been the captain's dining quarters – where the captain might entertain his fellow officers or any ladies traveling aboard. This apartment, reserved now for Pan, was the only part of the ship to have retained some of its former glory. The furnishings were fine, with old canvas paintings on the panelled walls and a large desk with a throne behind it dominating the room. 

Pan laid Wendy down on the sofa – it was large but as Wendy rested upon it, she felt the broken springs beneath her hips. The paintings also, were covered in dust and drink and food steins marred the coffee table and desk. Empty bottles had been discarded to the corner of the room and the foul smell of cigar smoke hung heavy in the stale air. Neglect was evident in every nook and crevice.

"Shadow, watch over her." Pan instructed. Obediently, his shadow detached itself from him – casting itself on the far wall. 

Satisfied, Pan left the room – his light feet ascending the steps to return out on deck where all were waiting for him. "Let's get out of here boys." The crew were indeed boys. They hollered delightedly – rushing to their posts. The waters churned as the Neverland's engines revved. The ship shuddered as they pulled away and Pan took to the air, flying up to the crow's nest.

The Neverland's lights flickered briefly and Pan stared across the cold shimmering waters. He held onto the mast with one hand and, leaning out, kept a steady eye on the horizon. A sea breeze stirred his hair and he had to hold onto his hat or risk losing it. The Neverland chugged noisily up the Thames. In the eerie lighting, Pan's face was lit from beneath casting creepy shadows over his rather feline face. With blood crusting around his nose and mouth, he looked like a demon.

They broke out into open sea and the lost boys whooped gleefully. Pan grinned, flashing pointed molars.

*

Whilst Pan had the appearance of a boy, Tinkerbell was all woman. She was short – her skin soft and her figure curvy. Pan straightened. He'd been washing his face in a basin of water and droplets, dyed red, dropped into the bowl – colouring the water. Tinkerbell prowled toward him, sashaying her hips. She was wearing a green corset, his favourite, that synched cruelly around her narrow waist. Her wild blonde hair was pinned messily up, exposing her pale slender throat.

"My pixie," Pan crooned affectionately. Tinkerbell didn't reply. She couldn't. She was mute. She wrapped her arms around Pan's neck, her heavy breasts crushed between them. Pan gripped her bum appreciatively. Silent and stunning – she made a delightful companion.

                    Stripped from his waist, his clothes bunched around his ankles, Pan felt like a king with Tinkerbell on her knees at his feet. He moaned, putting both hands on her head and gripping painfully tight, as he came undone. Finally letting her go, Tinkerbell fell onto all fours – coughing and struggling to catch her breath. Beads of sweat slid down Pan's sharp nose and he purred contentedly.