Peter Pan and the War of Evils

Chapter Five

"Well aimed, Nibs," Peter praised from the front of their group, observing the usual skill of a clean kill from the other boy, "We haven't had a Pidge in so long!"

Kaytee helped Tootles and Twins chop up the vegetables(an odd Neverland assortment, but similar to the Mainland's onion, celery and an array of roots), while Peter and Nibs dressed the bird. Curly and Slightly brought in a large pot filled with water and tossed in spices from a jar set on the table. For a moment, Kaytee forgot that this was only her third night in Neverland, and not her hundredth.

How easily this family had accepted her in, how effortlessly they worked in companionable silence or casual chatter. When Peter had first mentioned the prospect of her acting as the Lost Boys' Mother, she had accepted it flippantly, knowing it was for pretend. But as she reached over and brushed a stray peel from one of the Twin's cheeks, and told them to throw out the remnants of their chopped veggies, she actually felt herself sinking deep into her role. Fondness for the young boys rolled off her in waves. In the back of her mind, she ached for Sammy, wishing he could be alive and here with them, imagining how much he would get along with Slightly or Curly.

After they had second and third helpings of their stew, Kaytee gathered everyone around for a story, perching on a cot while the rest sat on the floor, even Peter. She spun her usual tales of adventure and whimsy, pulling out old ones Peter hadn't relayed back to the boys already. She told two stories in full and stopped halfway through the third one on a cliffhanger.

"Please oh please tell us the rest, Mother!" Tootles begged, clutching his pillow in tight fists.

"We simply must know! I couldn't sleep a wink without hearing the end!"Added Slightly, dramatically slapping his hat onto the ground. Peter simply smirked from where he reclined on his hands.

"But sleep you must!" She stood, grinning mischievously, "Or should I send Mr. Bones after you? He only comes for little boys who argue with their Mothers before bed..." She laughed as the boys scrambled for their cots, squeaking their hasty 'night!'s.

Though it was late and they had worked hard, when Kaytee stepped into Peter's room(or it is our room?) she found herself still full of energy. Peter noticed her hesitation to get into bed, and at first thought it was another oncoming attack of panic like she'd had the night before, but he saw how she bounced lightly on the balls of her feet.

"Not tired yet?" He asked, blowing out the lanterns so only the dozens of burning candles filled the room with dancing light.

She sighed, "I know I should be, but I feel as though I could run a mile up hill." She felt guilty, knowing he was probably exhausted from constantly hoisting heavy wood from the ground up to the treehouse, "I can go for a walk until I tire and let you rest."

"Actually, I'm fine." He told her honestly, and then saw her sword leaning against the wall by the bed. His eyes flashed when they met hers, "I have an idea."

He flew out of the room(literally, the show-off) and before she could guess why, he returned with two wooden swords, blunt edged and worn from use.

"How about we start those lessons?"

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They stepped into a small clearing in the jungle not far from home. Peter set down two lanterns on one side, Kaytee putting two more just the opposite, casting an adequate light onto their practice field. The crickets were loud, and the breeze was languid and cool. Kaytee tucked her hair into a tighter bun at the base of her neck and picked up the wooden sword Peter had given her.