Hello there, long time no see! This one is a bit longer, so that should somewhat make up for the time betwixt the two chapters. Thank you for all the delightful reviews, they never fail as motivators. I'm not sure how often I will be updating from this point on. I have a rather slow pace with these sorts of things, and I hate to force it out. However, I do know where I'm going with this whole thing, so that should speed things up a bit.

For now, enjoy!

Captain James Hook sat in his elegant - and rather large - burgundy seat, behind his intricately carved - and also rather large - mahogany desk, which was overspread with elaborate charts and nautical instruments. This desk and chair set was placed in the far end of the captain's quarters – which was quite the largest of the lot. Behind his regal seat was an expansive window overlooking the approaching dawn. To this superb view, however, Hook paid no mind.

The captain himself was far from simple. Though he had shed his usual full-length crimson coat and impressive feathered hat, his general presentation did not suffer. Clothed only in a billowing white shirt, well-fitted black trousers, and his best pair of black boots, Hook retained the appearance of a fierce commander. His long dark hair and signature mustache paired with the deep-set stoic expression etched into his face only enhanced the visible power of his person. Forget-me-not blue eyes pierced through his dark demeanor, and one might have expected to find a certain sweetness in them. Alas, behind the quite blue shade was a raging storm of red, which had been known to overpower the softness when the captain was most irate.

At the moment they were a calm blue, his face as unreadable as usual. His pose was pensive: slouched comfortably in his chair, legs extended lazily before him, and an unfocused gaze that stretched clear to the other side of the room. One hand was clutched to the arm of his chair, while his hook played with a recently emptied bottle of the finest rum piracy can "buy". The aftereffects of the beverage made his thoughts dance dizzyingly.

Memories of a boy draped with leaves and crowing madly twirled at the front of his mind. These were accompanied by thoughts of anger, humiliation, and then… fear. Fear at the memory of a rough, scaly hide and dagger-sharp teeth. Hook squinted his eyes shut at the images and rubbed his temple with his good hand.

He had been beaten. Bested by a child, a boy of thirteen, no less. He had not died, but his pride had been severely damaged. The boy had not acknowledged his escape from the dreaded crocodile as of yet, and Hook did not wish it. It was better this way. Life was more meaningful to him now. It was not to be wasted on silly confrontations with that wild brat of a child. The captain had more important things to do; he just wasn't sure what yet.

James Hook needed a new hobby.

His thoughts were interrupted by a tentative knock at the door. Ah, the ever-present Smee. No doubt the crew wanted orders. They had become quite restless since the little crocodile incident, as Hook had lost interest in all things Pan. Though they had been a bit more patient lately, he was sure there would be an uprising any day now. The captain forced a lazy eye open.

"Enter," Hook finally responded with a hint of annoyance. The door creaked open and Smee peaked a capped head around it to peer at his captain. Reassured by his calm demeanor, Smee approached the desk.

"Good to see you up and about, Cap'n. Bright an' early, as always." Smee smiled broadly and adjusted his glasses uneasily.

"You have impeccable observational skills, Mr. Smee," the captain remarked.

"Why, thank you, Cap'n. Just doin' my duty, like you always tell me," replied Smee, his confidence rising at the apparent compliment. "Keepin' my nose outta trouble, takin' note of things-to-do an' such-"

"Is there a particular reason for this interruption? Or were you simply in want of friendly conversation? If so, my mind was otherwise engaged before your entrance and I would much rather return to my previous musings."

"Aye, Cap'n. I'll be short as I can about it. The crew couldn't help takin' notice how gloomy ye been since the-" Hook cocked an eyebrow at the man, daring him to continue. "Er, since the incident. So we was thinkin' how we might raise your spirits again." Smee rounded the desk cautiously and approached his captain's side. "An' we think we discovered how to do it, how to get back at Pan in the worst way."

"No!" The captain stood suddenly, sending Smee reeling into the corner. He began to pace his quarters as he continued. "Pan is no longer of interest to me, nor should he be to anyone on this vessel. It would be childish to pursue such a game any further. I was fool to be swept up in his naïve little frolic about the island in the first. No, no more Peter Pan."

Smee was baffled at such a declaration, and could only stammer in reply: "B-but C-c-cap'n! We've already taken measures to ensure-"

"I care not what you did without my express command! This island is a curse and a waste of time!" Hook brought his silver appendage down on the desk for emphasis. He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment before righting himself and speaking directly to the still stuttering man in his company. "Tell the crew we shall leave this morning. Set a course for the nearest harbor. We will need to restock before our next voyage."

"C-cap'n, I…"

"Those are my orders, Mr. Smee. Go!"

So Smee scurried from the room in a sputtering of frazzled murmurs.

Starkey quick-stepped his way to the captain's quarters, hoping to catch Smee before the bumbling man could tell Hook of the plan. Starkey had just found a flaw and did not want to be held accountable for the captain's bad mood.

As he rounded on the captain's door, Smee came stumbling out of it and ran right into Starkey's broad chest. The little man began apologizing profusely before realizing just whom he had (literally) run into. Smee then paled and fell into a state of ramblings. Starkey couldn't catch most of Smee's speech, but he could understand enough to know the particulars of Smee's previous conversation with the captain.

"He wants… A-and he doesn't want… But I was positive that he'd… But what to do with the lady now?" Smee babbled his thoughts aloud until his taller crewmate grabbed him roughly by the shoulders.

"Smee! Smee, we 'ave bigger problems afoot! She's gone," Starkey rasped out. Smee's eyes grew in his skull at this information.

"G-g-gone? How? Where?"

"Damned if I know! But 'ere's what I do know: The captain finds 'er before us, and we'll be doin' some explainin'… to the fishes!"

The two barely hesitated before jogging off to deliver orders, as well as to find their little lady.

Notes to the author are appreciated (and much needed)!