Chapter 1: Captain Pan

"You can almost see the thread."

Slightly turned from his knot. Distracted, he held the unrigged block. "Captain Pan? You can almost see what?"

Captain Peter Pan did not immediately respond. Instead he pondered. Instead he reflected.

Slightly snorted. Pondering, reflecting: such were Peter's habits. And they were strange habits indeed. Peter never use to ponder. And geeze-um-Louise-um, Peter never use to reflect. Peter use to charge head first into the stickiest situations with no more rational than "It's an adventure, Blockhead." And the next morning, Peter would do it again…and again…and again…and again…

But Peter had changed his habits. Well, that was not exactly true.

Peter hadn't changed his habits.

Time had.

Time had taken Peter's brash. Time had taken Peter's cheer. Time had taken Peter's unruliness. Time had taken Peter's laugh. Time had taken Peter's smile. Time had taken Peter's boyhood.

Time had turned Peter Pan into a man. A man nigh of twenty with hair fiery red, eyes inky black, and judgement sharp as the dagger on his thigh.

Slightly sighed. Dismally, he rigged the block. He missed the good ol' days. He'd never tell Captain Pan that, of course! Too risky. Time had also taken Peter's happy thoughts, and given him a past of unhappy memories. Peter would cut a sailor's tongue if he dared reminisce about Neverland…Hangman's Tree…Indian campfires…story time…or…her.

A little butterfly fluttered in Slightly's stomach. Guiltily, he swallowed, trying to stifle the feeling. But the excitement would not go away. Today was the day! Today was the day…they found Wendy.

Slightly's excitement was not unaccompanied. The entire crew was bubbling. Cubby, Nibbs, Twin 1, Issy, Jake, Black Antler, Starkey, Gentleman Johnny, Billy Jukes, Mr. Smee – they were all excited. Even Tigerlily (although she had unfavorable opinions) was eager for events to unfold.

And geezum – even the ship seemed eager for Wendy's return! The Seamstress cut through the ocean like a knife through butter. All sails set to the wind, she sped after the crocodile…always after the crocodile…and to the second star.

Slightly glanced to starboard. The Jolly Roger followed at a healthy distance. Captain Hook would never venture too close to the crocodile. He left the crocodile tracking to Captain Pan and The Seamstress.

Puh. Slightly thought. Hook. Coward. Or, to coin a phrase, codfish.

Slightly finished stringing the block with a neat zip. No longer distracted, he gazed at the second star – the second star to the right.

Wendy was somewhere up there. According to Captain Pan, she had been entangled in celestial thread for all these years. And today she would fall. Today she would fall like –

"A shooting star." Peter crossed his arms. A storm was stirring, and it tossed the ship. But Peter was immovable. He stood solidly, two feet on the ground. "A shooting star, broken from its thread. Falling from the fabric of sky."

Peter bent his head. He ran a haggard hand through his hair. Slightly smiled. Peter's hair was still rambunctious as ever. At least that hadn't changed.

"A storm is coming Slightly."

Slightly relaxed his smile. He assumed the glower of a proper first mate. "Aye, Captain Pan. I feel the rain. I see the waves. All hands hoy?"

"Yes." Peter nodded. "All hands on deck. We've got one chance to get her aboard. Once she falls, the crocodile will try to eat her. Probably."

Slightly tapped his heels, responding 'yes.' "Captain. The Jolly Roger is lagging. Should we fall back?"

"No." Peter said quickly. He surveyed The Jolly Roger before reaffirming his decision. "No. Hook can catch up. It's not my fault he's afraid of the crocodile. She will fall no matter what. We have to be under the second star when it happens."

Slightly tapped his heels again. Then, gently, he ventured.

"It…it will be strange. Won't it Pan? You know. Seeing mother again. I missed…well. I missed Wendy."

Peter stiffened. He stared at the second star. Slightly waited for his punishment.

But Captain Pan only reprimanded.

"Remember." Peter said. His voice was dangerous. "This is not a rescue, Slightly. This is a capture."

Sadly Slighlty agreed. He sighed as the crocodile roared in the seething sea.

"Aye Captain. Aye. Geezum. " Slightly marveled. "How did we get here, Pan? Do you remember how all this started?"

Peter was silent. Then, almost magnetically, his hand drew to a thimble around his neck.

"…yes. It started seven years ago. With a story. A story of a shooting star."