Chapter Eight

Peter Pan's POV

I sighed. Aladdin. Aladdin! I couldn't believe she fell for a street rat, a no good, filthy, rich, street rat. But I guess if Tink wanted a street rat she could have one.

I stopped flying and wiped my face clean of tears. I wasn't crying, my eyes just get watery sometimes, I swear. But either way, I stopped and that's when I saw it. Captain Hook's ship, his cross bones and skull stood out against its black background.

"Oh no," I gasped. A smile slowly spread over my face. I loved this more than anything, well almost more than anything. I loved Tinker Bell an awful ton.

"Cock-a-doodle-do!" I hollered. In seconds all the Lost Boys were surrounding me.

"Okay," I said. "If you look over there," I pointed towards the bay where Hook's ship was slowly coasting along, "you can see Hook."

"All I see is a big ship with a pirate flag that frighteningly looks just like Hook's ship," said Cubby.

I rolled my eyes.

"No dummy," began one of the Twins. You couldn't tell them apart if your life depended on it. So far, it never had.

"It is Hook's ship," finished the other Twin.

"Oh," Cubby said. You could tell he was trying to think of something. I doubt it would come.

"You know what to do," I ordered.

"Um, no we don't," contradicted our fox, Slightly.

"Yeah, you've never told us what to do this time," said Nibs, the bunny. His left ear fell forward covering his eye. He blew at it to try to get if off his eye. It didn't work so he blew on it again. Cubby started laughing. Soon everyone was on the floor but Nibs and I.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Um, I don't know," confessed Cubby. That started the laughter that never quite died up again.

"Okay, Hook, treasure, focus." Sometimes the Lost Boys could be annoying.

"Okay, what's the plan," asked Nibs. Tootles, the youngest and the skunk, smiled.

We huddled up and our plan was formed.

Captain Hook's POV

"Smee!"

"Smee!" I yelled louder.

"Yes Captain?"

"Well it's about time," I murmured. "Have you seen Pan?"

"No, Captain. No sign of Peter Pan anywhere."

"What about his band of Lost Boys?"

"Negative, Captain."

"The fairy of his, oh what's her name?"

"Tinker Bell, and no Sir. No little fairies anywhere."

"Good," I said. Call me paranoid, but I wasn't going to take chances. Peter Pan may look innocent, but there was a reason I had a hook as my right hand.

I was sure Peter Pan would have seen my ship by this time. If nothing else would give us away, it would be the stupid crocodile that would never go more than a few paces away. But they were up to something. Peter Pan and his gang of scallywags were up to something. I just knew it. By my hook, they were up to something.