.

Behind a wall of ivy, Jefferson found the fabled cave that had once been the home to thousands of fairies. He made quick work to pull down the ivy, revealing the entrance of the cave. To his pleasant surprise, the place was covered with sparkly, pixie dust. The ground and the rocky walls of the cave looked as if they were encrusted with a billion tiny diamonds as Jefferson entered it.

My patron will be pleased. He thought as he scooped-up some of the magical powder, enough to fill a small pouch, and then he tied it shut.

With a proud smile, Jefferson tossed-up the pouch of pixie dust and snatched it from the air as he spun on his heel. He then proceeded to tuck the pouch safely away inside his coat as he exited the cave. A snap of a twig under foot stopped him dead in his tracks. Jefferson's arm lowered from his coat and his head shot up to see a rather surprised looking band of pirates. They stood a few feet away, eying him from head to toe as if they thought he were a mirage.

"Well. Well," a hook-handed pirate grinned as he strolled forward, "It seems as though an outsider has stumbled onto our island." The one-handed pirate, who could only be the infamous Captain Hook, glared at Jefferson. "Boys?" he rallied his crew, "What do we do with outsiders?"

The crew of well-armed men laughed maliciously as they reached for their swords.

"WAIT!" Jefferson shouted, and surprisingly, their hands all seemed to ease up off their hilts.

Relieved, he took in an exaggerated deep breath, and then raised a finger into the air as if he had something important to say. The pirates waited curiously to hear what it was. Jefferson opened his mouth to speak as his eyes swept over the crowd, and then, he took off running in the opposite direction! The sound of heavy footfalls—like a thunderous stampede—followed after him, but Jefferson was faster.

You've gotten out of worse scrapes than this! He told himself as he zig-zagged through the over-grown jungle.

He managed to run a few more yards before the black-clad captain cut him off, appearing suddenly from out of the trees. Jefferson skidded to a stop and stared at Captain Hook with sheer bewilderment. The pirate captain smiled.

"Sorry, mate, but I know this island like the back of my—" he glanced to his hook, "Well, you know."

Before he could react, Jefferson was rushed from behind, having each of his arms grabbed by a grubby pirate. Jefferson rolled his eyes and pursed his lips in annoyance.

Please don't let them scratch the leather. He thought, and then, as if a rock had fallen from the sky and jogged his mind—Jefferson got an idea. He put on his best defeated expression as he looked at the pirate captain. Hook's smile was just dripping with arrogance, and if Jefferson knew anything, it was that arrogance loved flattery.

"I must admit," he began with a defeated sigh, "You truly live-up to your reputation."

Hook raised an intrigued eyebrow.

"And what reputation might that be?"

"The fierce Captain Hook, of course!" Jefferson exclaimed with a wide gesture of his arms, of course, in reality, his arms merely tugged at the pirate's hold.

Hook noticed and he waved off his crew, releasing Jefferson from his confines. With his best businessman smile, he shrugged out of their hands and marched towards the captain. Jefferson slapped a hand on the pirates back and led him off to the side.

"You see," he began in a hushed voice, "What an adventurer such as yourself needs is a raconteur—someone who could spread tales of your daring to other worlds!" Jefferson straightened and tugged on the lapels of his coat, "I, am that someone."

Hook gave him a bored look.

"Why would I have need of a raconteur when my reputation already precedes me?"

"Ah! Good question," Jefferson said as he slid back a step and extended his hand to Hook's good one, "Name's Jefferson, and I'm a man who's seen much and heard much more. Your reputation is quite impressive, but it's only by my excursions through this world that I've heard of you."

Hook withdrew from the handshake with a frown.

"Only from this world?" he questioned, bitterly.

Jefferson heaved a heavy sigh and put on his best sympathetic face.

"Afraid so," he spoke gravely, "But! With me at your service, entire worlds would come to know the story of Captain Hook!"

Hook considered it for a moment, and then fixed Jefferson with a suspicious glare.

"Grown men would quiver in fear at the mention of me?"

"Indeed," Jefferson nodded.

"Women would clutch to their bosom and sigh?"

"Moan! They would moan!"

"Children would call themselves 'Hook' during swordplay?"

"And dream of sailing the seas."

A smile crossed the pirate captain's face as he leaned towards the smooth talking salesman.

"Tell me, mate," Hook began as he brought his hook dangerously close to Jefferson's nose, "Do you think me a fool? Did you think that perhaps I wouldn't recognize your attempt to save your own neck?"

Jefferson eyes wandered-off in contemplation, pondering how best to answer such an obvious question, and then, with a sudden gasp, his eyes opened wide.

"LOOK!" he exclaimed as he pointed a finger and Hook and his crew quickly turned to look, "A fairy!"

"Where? I don't—BLOODY HELL!"

Jefferson was on the run again. He was ahead of the pirates by several yards this time and he knew where he was going. With the pixie dust tucked away safely inside his coat, Jefferson dashed towards the Lost Ones abandoned hideout, dodging thrown daggers and rocks along the way. The pirates followed him through the very entrance of the hideout, shouting and growling their aggravation as they got stuck trying to get through all at once. Then, with a dramatic exit bow, Jefferson flashed Hook a winning smile and escaped through the door that would lead him back to his hat. A faint echo of curses could be heard through the knotty, wooden entrance that led to Neverland.

"Only one goes in, only one comes out,"Jefferson replied to Hook's curses, even though he went unheard.

Then with a confident pep in his step, Jefferson strolled across the large room that was filled with many doors and he selected the one that would lead him home. Soon, he'd exchange his pouch of pixie dust for a few pockets full of gold straw. He'd tell his patron the tale of how he escaped Captain Hook—if his patron was feeling amiable—and then, he would run off to buy himself a new leather coat. The old one had been scratched by a flying dagger and it smelled of pirates.

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