For someone so determined to get away from him this girl sure was clinging to him for dear life right now, Peter thought. He had made it to the top of Big Ben in a matter of minutes, and with just his luck the clock hands were at 11:05, allowing the hands to form a perfect V shape. He carefully laid her on the hour hand, which she clutched desperately when she realized just how high they were. He relaxed his arms behind his hands and lay back against the minute hand, observing her.

After several minutes Moira got the courage to open her eyes. Upon seeing that her surroundings hadn't changed she shut them again, willing the entire thing to be a dream. "H-how did we get up here?" The Moira stuttered.

Peter grinned, "We flew."

Snapping her eyes open, stared at him in disbelief before turning her gaze to the ground below her, which due to fog and darkness of the night she could not even see. She hid her face and moaned as a gust of wind shook her foundation. She looked up when she thought she heard her kidnapper ask her a question. "What?"

"What's. Your. Name?" Peter enquired.

She thought about refusing to answer him, about yelling at him to take her home. But she knew he could very well just leave her here to hang until morning and some elderly clock cleaner found her. "Moira," she mumbled.

He seemed to take in her answer before leaning forward and extending his hand, "I'm Peter." She hesitated and Peter thought it was because she was too scared to let one hand go of the clock arm, but instead she stared at him with wide eyes.

"As in Peter Pan?" She asked slowly

Peter grinned, "Well, that's what some call me." He leapt away from the clock and floated through the air, mimicking a backstroke.

Moira's jaw dropped and she buried her face back into the clock hand. "I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming," she repeated to herself, trying to will herself into consciousness. "I've fallen asleep with Angie and Jacob. I did not get up because Jacob kicks. I did not decide to go back to my own bed—Oww!" Moira's head snapped up when she felt a sharp pinch under her arm. Peter had just pinched her.

"You feel that?" He was now floating right next to her at head level. She nodded. "See, you're not dreaming." He crossed his arms over his chest and tried looking at her sternly. "Now I've got some questions for you and I expect you to be honest."

Moira blanched. "Me to be honest? I found you lurking around my bedroom and you think I'm the dishonest one?"

"Now that's how I know you're lying," he retorted. "I happen to know for a fact that that room belongs to Jane, so where is she?"

Confused, Moira replied, "Why would my mother stay in the old nursery? She sleeps downstairs with my dad."

Peter was about to retort but he stopped midway. His eyes softened and for the first time since spiriting her up here he was at a loss at what to say. He turned partly away from her, trying to gather his thoughts before glancing back, "Your mother?"

"Yes," Her voice was quiet now, not because she saw Peter struggling with some inner turmoil but because she was starting to put together Peter's abrupt arrival and the sudden upheaval of their home security. "Were you the one who broke in and trashed our house the other day?"

"Technically it was my shadow that made the mess," Peter began to explain but was again cut off by Moira.

"And were you the one that scared my mum at the window last night?" Her voice rose with every word. Moira was able to sit up, her back pressed against the clock face and using both hands to balance herself on her seat.

"That was Jane?" Peter stared in disbelief. "I thought that was Wendy—hey!"

Moira had swiped at him, cuffing him on the shoulder. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" Peter moved to avoid another hit. "YOU SCARED HER SO BAD SHE WENT TO THE HOSPITAL!" He was suddenly glad he'd brought her here, wondering when the screaming would start.

Moira was abruptly caught off guard when a ball of light shot up and into her face, darting about. She gave thought to swatting it away when she saw inside the ball of light was a tiny woman with wings. "Tinkerbelle?" Giving pause it gave the fairy a perfect opportunity to knock the girl on the temple with her tiny fist once before flying away.

"What do you mean she went to the hospital? Is she alright?" Peter asked worriedly.

"Now she is." She was taken aback by the concern in his voice. "She got so worked up that Dad had to take her there to be calmed down."

Calming down some, he asked, "Why did she scream when she saw me at the window? All I wanted to ask was for someone to sew my shadow back on."

Moira slid toward the center of the clock, where she was able to grasp both clock hands and keep her balance. When she was comfortable she wouldn't fall she answered. "She thought you were Hook coming to kill her, or maybe even take us kids away as revenge or something. At least that's what Gram thinks."

"Gram? What's a Gram" Peter asked taking a seat next to her, she moved to give him enough room.

"Gram's what we call our grandmother," Moira paused. "She's Wendy."

Peter took it all in slowly, leaning forward with his chin in his hands. Jane had asked him not to come back for a while, so he'd stayed away, but he hadn't thought he'd stayed away that long. Jane had grown up and had a girl of her own, a girl he had kidnapped from her room like he was no better than a pirate. The same pirate that Jane had mistaken him for. And Wendy…..

"Are you okay?" Moira whispered.

Peter snapped out of his daze and cleared his throat. He was a boy capable of many things, and unlike his fairy friends could feel many emotions at the same time. But he had the ability to choose which ever emotion he wished to display. Peter also had this uncanny ability to recover from every tragedy rather quickly and put on an air of confidence, which he summoned pronto.

"I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle actually." His voice had perked back up and he stood back straight but kept his hands on his knees, tapping his fingers. Moira wrapped her arms about herself when a particular chilly wind whipped her long hair around, bringing her back to the reality that she was outside in the winter night with no sleeves or shoes.

Peter noticed as well and wrapped one arm around her to try and warm her up. "Sorry, I didn't think about the cold when I brought you here. I just thought this would be a better place for you to yell at me."

With the threat of physical violence thrown out the window Moira found it touching that he was concerned for her well-being. Things were calmer now and Moira wanted to keep the sense of civility in the air. "Sorry I hit you," she murmured.

"You wouldn't be the first," Peter chuckled. "And I'm sorry for scaring you."

Warming up, Moira let her hands drop to her lap. Peter was more covered than her but not by much. His entire shirt seemed to be made of a fabric composed of skeleton leaves and spider silk, with strings of vine weaving patches of his shirt together like stitching. His pants were a similar matter but more torn, with what looked like green stockings that had seen better days. On his hip was a belt that held a long dagger in his holster.

"So you came back for your shadow?" Moira enquired.

"Yeah," Peter confirmed. "It got caught in a door when I first arrived. It was during the day and no one was home so I decided to go exploring the house," he paused. "I tried to get it back but it fought me and we decked it out around the house, making a mess. Again, sorry 'bout that." He added.

"S'alright, we cleaned it up," said Moira.

"I've never come to the house during the day," Peter confessed. "It was different and more risky. I guess that's why I did it. I hightailed it out when I heard someone come home."

"That was my brother," Moira piped up. "He told me later he'd heard someone upstairs but couldn't figure out how they'd gotten in or out. He suggested the window and I didn't believe him." She looked at the view in front of her. "I can see why you prefer to fly at night; London is so beautiful this time of year with all the Christmas lights."

The view from her bedroom was nothing compared to what Moira was seeing now. The entire city was laid out in front of her like a blanket, but twinkling like the night sky. "I can see my house from here," she pointed Peter towards over the river and on the left. Trailing her finger along the right she excitedly pointed, "And there's my school over there." She craned her neck to the far right searching for another familiar spot, finding it she leaned forward. "And over there was where—Ahhhh!"

In her excitement she'd leant so far forward that the little room she had to sit on disappeared out from under her. She lost her balance and fell straight down, only to feel another hand clamp down on her wrist as she dangled. Peter pulled her up and to her surprise they were both laughing. He cocked his head. "What got you so excited that you almost went a-tumbling?"

Still wearing a grin, Moira pointed to a far corner of her neighborhood. "Do you see that street corner over there, where that traffic light is?" Peter nodded. "About two years ago it was on that corner where my brother Jacob and I were walking to the park when we got jumped by this older boy, Paddy Donnelly, and his crew. They used to pick on us at school and take our milk money, sometimes even pushing us." Moira recalled every shove and taunt, every ugly name they'd thrown at them. "And I guess that day we'd had enough and before we knew it we started scrapping it out in the street. We gave as good as we got back because by the end Paddy and I had matching split lips and Jacob got one of his loose teeth knocked out."

Peter could imagine Moira fighting back. Heck, she'd almost given him a run for his money when he tried to overpower her. And from what he'd seen she fought dirty when needed.

"So you've got a brother?" Peter asked.

Moira nodded. "And a sister, her name's Angie. She and I share the room I found you in."

'That explains the extra bed,' Peter thought.

"What were you doing in our room anyway?" Moira asked.

Peter suddenly remembered his shadow, and hoped it was still where he left it. He explained to Moira about how for the last two nights he'd attempted to get his shadow back, but it kept evading him or someone in the house interrupted him so he had to fly away or leave abruptly.

Moira sighed and shook her head. "All this trouble for a shadow," she murmured.

"Well it's not just that," Peter corrected softly. "I came to bring Jane back to Neverland. It had been such a long time and the lost boys had been asking for a while to bring her back and I figured she'd had enough time back home." Peter paused, his lips getting thin. "Looks like I waited too long."

For a few minutes neither of them said anything, just sat contently on the clock hands and only glancing back when the minute hand moved. They probably would have stayed that way if not for Tink, who took her place on Peter's shoulder that faced Moira, effectively putting herself between the two children. Moira eyed the fairy, who crossed her arms and sat Indian style.

"The boys don't worry that you've been gone a couple days?" Moira asked.

Peter shook his head. "Probably too busy having fun to notice. Besides, I always leave someone in charge to make they don't get into too much trouble."

"How many boys are there now?" Asked Moira.

"I don't bother counting anymore; we usually just have a sound-off when I call attention." Peter stopped to listen to Tink, who began whispering in his ear. "Why should I tell her that?" He asked Tink, who just huffed out a series of tinkling sounds that sounded suspiciously like 'Just do it!' Peter sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine," he turned to Moira. "She wants me to tell you that there so many boys that not a single girl could take care of them, that they are wild so you shouldn't even bother trying."

Sending the fairy a glare, Moira could see Tink lived up to reputation for being jealous. "Forget wild, you should deal with weird kids. Wait until you meet my sister." Speaking of the little girl, Moira remembered her sister speaking of her ghost friend. "Your shadow's under Angie's bed back at the house isn't it? We should go get it."

Peter nodded and pushed himself forward and into the air. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" He had made it at least twenty feet before pausing mid-air, turning around and sheepishly flying back where Moira still sat, unwilling and unable to leave.

She raised an eyebrow at him, "You are forgetful, aren't you." It wasn't really a question.

He smirked, "Not one of my better traits. From now on I'll try to show my better ones, for example." Still floating, he held his body straight up as if he were standing. "I am horribly ashamed at the circumstances surrounding our first meeting mademoiselle, and beg you to allow us to start anew with a clean slate," he bent at the waist and gave her a graceful bow. "Peter Pan, at your service."

Moira had never been bowed to before, and found the gesture strange but not unpleasant in the slightest. Unable to curtsey without the risk of falling, she held out her hand for a shake. "Margaret Jane Alice Woodham, my friends call me Moira."

Peter stared at her hand, not used to shaking the hands of a girl even after Jane. He grasped her hand but instead of a customary shake he brought her hand to his lips and gave it a quick kiss. "Then Moira I shall call you. Now come," he used the hold on her hand to drape her arm over his shoulder, his other arms going under her knees. "Away we go."

And like that they were off through the air, a sullen Tinkerbelle dragging her wings behind them.

Moaning, Jacob pushed Angie's feet out of his face. The girl looked like she had belly crawled to the end of the bed where she had decided to settle on her stomach. That girl could honestly sleep anywhere.

He knew that Moira on the other hand was a light sleeper, and whenever they shared a bed she always had to complain about how much he kicked. She once got so irritated with him that on a camping trip he awoke to find himself outside the tent when it started raining, Moira having earlier dragged him by his sleeping bag outside when she couldn't take his restless legs. He promptly told her that if she had a problem then she should have been the one to leave.

'Looks like she took my advice," Jacob thought, noticing her absence.

And just like the rain was Mother Nature's way of waking him up outside the tent, nature was calling him to get out of bed and take care of business. Trying not to wake Angie, he crept out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, grabbing his empty glass by the bed. After using the toilet and washing his hands, he filled up the glass of water and took a sip before making his way back to bed.

But he wouldn't settle down, something in the back of his mind kept telling him that he needed to do something. Not really wanting to get up, he huffed into the pillow. Sneaking a peak at Angie he felt a childish rush of jealousy at how heavy she was sleeping. Stretching his foot out he took a soft jab at her with his toe, disturbing her enough to make her groan and turn more onto her side.

After a few minutes he decided that he needed to make sure Moira was okay before his mind would allow him to sleep. Without opening his eyes he reached under his bed for his ever-faithful cricket bat, and made his way outside the hallway. Since the other night he couldn't find himself able to get to sleep unless he knew his sisters were nearby and safe. When he had gone to check on them last night he found them both asleep in Moira's bed, and figured that the best way to protect them was to stay with them.

I mean, how else could he make sure they were safe? Certainly not away from them. All alone. In his dark room. By himself.

Convincing himself that that was the only reason, he creaked the door to the girl's room open just a peek, to get his fill so he could be back off to bed. But what he saw made him pause in the doorway as he took in the site before him. His blood ran cold before pumping furiously through his veins, urging him to grip his bat handle tighter. He wasn't thinking as he propelled himself through the door and into the unknown, with only one thought on his mind.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SISTER!"

Moira had never thought she'd have a view of London while flying in the arms of a boy old enough to at least be her grandfather. But she did.

She never thought she could somehow sew a squirming shadow back onto said boy to the point where one could ever know that the shadow a few moments ago had a mind of its own. But she did.

And never did she think that she would be getting coaxed to jump out a window and try to fly with nothing but happy thoughts to guide her…She was still working on that.

While getting his shadow sewn back on Peter had begun to regale Moira about his life back on the island. Moira was very inquisitive and he was all too happy to feed her appetite. "Where do you and the boys live?"

"In the home underground, but sometimes we go camping when we want to explore," he said. "And then there are times we play games all night and don't even know how long we've been gone until we see the sun rising over the water and the island comes back to life."

Moira could hear the pride rising in his voice as he spoke about his home. She tried not to sound too excited but it was just beginning to set in with her that this was really happening. Neverland did actually exist, meaning that there was no shame in her believing it deep down. Peter Pan was sitting across from her on the bed as she finished stitching his shadow the edge of his feet. He had noticed her smile growing as he spoke on and an idea had begun to form in his head.

He had mentioned the mermaids and Moira had asked if they were still mean. He brought up the wild animals but she asked if they'd killed any of the boys. She seemed to respond positively to anything having to do with their simple day-to-day activities. "Some of the boys will bring home kills and we'll roast them over a spit. Usually we just eat what's left over for days until we run out."

Moira cut the thread with her teeth and tied a knot. "Are there no set meal times?

Peter shook his head. "There's no one around to make them."

"Oh?" Moira raised her eyebrows. She had begun resting her head in her hands, listening intently.

"Or to fix our clothes, or tuck us in at night, or tell us stories," Peter continued on, his becoming innocently wider with each word and his lower lip beginning to form a pout.

"Mum used to do all that for you guys?" As much as she tried to Moira had a hard time picturing her pre-teen mother playing house. Peter shrugged, giggling at the memory of Jane trying to adjust to role of mother. In the end they decided to call her Lost Girl, a very different title to that of Mother but one that was just as prestigious. "Not always, she never quite got the hang of it. Her story-telling improved over time but she wasn't known much for anything else. She was fun." Peter added that last little part in hopes of that he hadn't made Jane out to be a total bore. While she was an irreplaceable friend to him and the boys she was certainly no Wendy.

Moira looked off into space trying to imagine her mother as a child, running through a jungle with a ragtag of boys. "It's just so weird to imagine a time when she was fun. She's usually so serious, unlike our dad."

Nodding, Peter said, "Jane is one of the most serious girls I have ever met. And I should know, for I have met four girls." Seeing Moira raise an eyebrow he went on to explain. "Tiger Lily, Wendy, Jane and now," he paused before holding out his arms in her direction as if revealing the next great act in a show, "You."

Peter's ear was immediately assaulted by Tink's excessive yelling in her bell language. Rolling his eyes he added, "And you as well, Tink."

Despite her misgivings about the fairy Moira found herself laughing at the playful banter between her and Peter, the fairy seemingly as much a child as they were. Tink really couldn't have been all that bad if Peter had been putting up with her for the last several decades, though she imagined years to Peter flew by as easily as he himself.

"But you know," Peter began to say when she stopped laughing, floating backward and off the end of the bed. "You're not quite like the other girls. You lack something." He put his hand under his chin, mimicking deep thought.

Moira snorted, "Like what?"

"Stand up, quickly." Peter looked very excited, acting as if this entire thing were a game. "Let me have a look at you and I will show you the problem."

Moira stood up at the foot of the bed so her and Peter were of equal height. He made a quick show of examining her, uttering 'uh-huh' whenever he seemed to find something worth taking note of. He lifted up her wrists but didn't feel her pulse, for if he did he certainly would have noticed it quicken. Moira had to keep herself from leaping forward when Peter suddenly disappeared behind her and pressed the side of his face against her back and asked her to cough. He finally finished after placing his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. He jumped away, apparently finding the ailment he was searching for. It was nothing like Moira expected.

"It's a bad case of normalcy. You reek of it."

Moira decided to play along, "How did you figure that out Dr. Pan?"

"A good doctor can tell merely by taking a whiff," Peter's nostrils raised as if he still smelled something foul. "And from the smell of it you've got it bad, one of the worst cases I've seen in my career."

Raising her hands over her heart, Moira feigned a look of faint horror. "Then I beg you good doctor, tell me what I must do. I implore you." Moira staggered to the ground and lay down face first at Peter's feet. He kneeled down to turn her over, the sound of muffed giggles escaping her as she continued to keep her eyes closed.

"Nurse Tink, quickly prep the patient for treatment. We must de-normalize her at once." She heard Peter say.

Moira let one eye peek open, "What treatment? What do you plan on doing?"

"You smell of normal, dull, and every day. We must remedy this at once by making you smell like excitement, fun, and adventure. Dust her Tink, we must take leave at once!"

Tink slumped her shoulders and looked at Peter, her pitiful eyes speaking for her 'Do I have to, really?' But she didn't have to wait for an answer because Moira sat straight up and gaped at Peter, "What?"

He reached down and grabbed her hands, pulling her up to him. "It's the only way. Come quickly, we have to go!" He began pulling her along the floor. Moira was dazed for a moment as they approached the window, Peter still flying while she remained grounded. She snapped out of it when her knees hit the window sill. "Wait!" Peter turned back to her questioningly. "Leave? Where are we going?"

She already knew the answer.

"Neverland of course," Peter tried to coax her to step up onto the sill, and when she wouldn't he eased the grip on her hand.

"I-I can't just leave," she stammered, stepping backward. Peter paused in his actions before following her back into the room.

Cocking his head to the side, Peter asked, "Why not?"

'Yeah, why not?' Moira thought. The tone Peter used when he asked her that was laced with nothing but childish perplexity, not the irritable anger she almost expected him to take. Still she found herself coming up with excuse after excuse as to why she couldn't possibly leave.

"We're leaving early in the morning to visit my uncle. I can't just up and leave for who knows how long," Moira found the obvious excuse was the best.

Peter did not find any problem with it apparently. "I can have you back before morning."

Moira scoffed, "There's no way. I remember Gram's stories and she was gone for days every time she went with you."

"Yeah, in Neverland time." Peter explained. "The island runs on endless time for us based on whatever we want."

"Then how come you came here thinking it was still the 1940's?" Moira put her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrow. If he thought she could fool her into thinking she could stay away without getting in trouble he was dead wrong.

"The only reason I can think of is because I've been in Neverland longer than anyone else free to come and go. Since it's my permanent home time doesn't affect me or really allow me to control arriving at the time I want outside of Neverland." He saw Moira thinking it over and trying to make sense of it, so Peter decided to add the cherry on top. "Wendy and Jane always arrived home at the exact time they needed to be home, no matter how long they stayed,"

While that should have put her at ease he saw that Moira still trying to find a reason why this idea was terrible. "What's wrong, are you worried that it's not safe? Because I'll protect you from anything that you can think of."

Peter reached for her hand and slowly began to draw her forward and back towards the window. Though moving forward he could still feel resistance on her part and decided to take one matter out of her hands.

He turned to Tink and softly commanded her to dust Moira, who was currently looking over her shoulder at something. When the reluctant fairy did as she was told, Moira shivered and closed her eyes when she felt the dust coat her.

"You have to learn to fly first before we can go anywhere. Here let me show you," Peter guided her up onto the window sill. She could see her breathe as she took in the dark city ahead before she looked up towards the stars.

"You have to think of a happy thought and let it lift you into the air, and then off you go," she heard Peter say. So simple.

Yet Moira gripped the window frame with apprehension. Could she really go through with it and fly? The only reason she was not soaring at the moment was because a small part of her mind was telling her to wait, but for what? To wake up and find out that none of this had happened? Her heart felt like it was plummeting at the thought of none of this being real, that no one else could be there with her to confirm what her heart was telling her was true. She gasped when it occurred to her why she was waiting.

"Do you know what you could do to make me really happy, Peter?" Moira all but whispered to the boy, who leaned in closer to her to hear. His eyes were lit up like Christmas lights, eager to hear her secret. "Name it," he challenged, knowing there was nothing he couldn't do.

Looking over her shoulder again, Peter saw more specifically that she had earlier been looking at the empty bed his shadow had taken sanctuary in. The bed that did not belong to her.

Moira jutted her chin out, determined to get what she wanted. "If I go we all go. I want to take Jacob and Angie with me."

She saw his face overcome itself with pleasant surprise, as if he were expecting something more challenging. But still seeing a hint of reluctance she jumped in, "Jacob can be a new lost boy, and I'll take care of Angie. You won't have to worry about a thing." She promised.

After a few moments Peter rose and stuck out his hand, "Deal." Moira and he shook on it, but instead of letting go Peter pulled her away from the window panel. "But let's get you squared away first on flying."

With his hands now on her shoulders he guided her towards the window's edge, toeing the line delicately. She felt her upper body tip forward, Peter's doing of course, and briefly thought if she should just jump or lift up a foot and walk off like a pavement curb.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SISTER!"

She neither jumped nor stepped off; in fact she sort of tumbled. Panic set in as she lost her balance, waiving her arms almost comically to try and shift her weight back on the ledge. Twisting her torso in a desperate attempt to grab onto anything, she felt her lower body anchor over and outside the window. Her upper body took a painful hit as it flattened itself on the window sill, her arms desperately trying to hold her up as the wind was knocked out of her.

When she opened her eyes she saw Peter and Jacob head to head, or should we say bat to dagger, in a battle of wills. Even trying to catch her breath she could tell by Peter's stance that he was hardly trying when it came to fighting off Jacob's advances. Her brother preferred to fight blindly and always was afraid of actually hurting anyone, being brought up around sisters who tended to cry out when hit.

In an effort to try and haul herself back over the ledge, she planted her feet against the outside wall under the window to try and push herself up. Only her toes would reach it, barely enough to give her any momentum. Inside Peter had attempted to grab the bat from Jacob, resulting in a vicious tug of war. Upon seeing that Jacob would not let go of the bat, Peter used that to slowly begin lowering both of them toward the floor.

Jacob could hardly keep the cry of unfairness from escaping him as Peter tugged the bat, as well as Jacob's body, forward. Trapping Jacob in a headlock, the both of them lay in a struggling heap on the floor, Peter using his own legs to trap Jacob's.

"Calm down. If I wanted you dead you'd be cut down already," Peter hissed.

Meanwhile Moira found herself slipping, her hands becoming moist causing her fingers to lose their grasp of the sill edge. Using her palms proved to slow down the inevitable, but soon found herself dangling out the window completely.

"Guys!" She panicked, her fingers slipping. Hearing movement she could only pray that they heard her, her voiced strained from using all her strength to hold on.

Both boys had stopped what they were doing upon hearing Moira. Peter let go of Jacob who was on his feet the moment he was free. Forgetting their quarrel they both dove for the window and the disappearing fingers on the ledge.

But Moira could feel it before it happened, her weight being too much anymore. "I'm can't hold on—I'm slipping—"

And she was gone. The boys were so close that she was sure she felt one of them touch her fingers before they could get a grasp. Clutching her eyes shut, not wanting to know when she'd make contact with ground, she wondered briefly if her parents would see her falling past their window. The rush of wind in her ears made her curl into herself before her body suddenly jerked and she found limbs splayed out.

She had stopped moving. She hadn't hit the ground. Cracking her eyes open she saw Jacob and Peter staring with horror from the window, which was not as far away from her as she'd thought. Peter had a foot on the ledge as if ready to jump after her until she had stopped. Timidly reaching behind her she felt nothing but air, and when she looked over her shoulder she saw she hovering at least twenty feet from the ground. She looked back up at the boys.

"I guess you're happy thought being not dying is a good motivation to fly, huh?" She nervously cracked.

She saw both boys let out a nervous laugh. Moira was not sure how to control moving in flight just yet, and not wanting to ask for help just yet decided to clear the air between the boys. "Peter this is Jacob, my brother that I mentioned earlier. Jacob, this is Peter Pan, no introductions necessary."

While Moira struggled into a more upright position, Jacob uneasily looked over at Peter. "Are—are you really Peter Pan?" Peter nodded. "I'm not dreaming or anything?"

"No, and what is it with you guys and always thinking you're asleep? Moira thought that too until I pinched her."

"Why are you here?" Jacob asked after a few moments.

Peter pointed behind him, indicating the shadow that stretched across the floor. "Came back for my shadow. Moira was nice enough to sew it back on," He looked out the window and saw she had progressed halfway up. "And now she's gonna come and be our new mother. If she ever gets the hang of flying, that is."

"Don't laugh at me," Moira's head made an appearance in the window, where she saw Tink leaning against the side of the window looking quite bored. "And don't look so excited to see me Tink." The fairy tilted her head and sneered at her.

Jacob looked at his elbow and jumped, only just now noticing the fairy. Things were becoming very real for him a little too quickly. "B-but you can't just go away to Neverland!"

Moira took Peter's hand when he offered to help pull her inside. Back on her feet, she breathed out a sigh in relief. "I'm not. We are." Jacob's eyes widened and she explained. "He said we could all go: Me, you and Angie."

Shaking his head, Jacob protested. "We're leaving on holiday in the morning! How do you expect us to get back before then?"

It was Peter who jumped in. "Neverland time always makes sure that those who leave always get back home when they need to." Seeing Jacob's doubts he added, "I can't explain it, but it's always worked whenever I've brought someone back."

Not wanting to wait for her brother to understand, Moira started to head for the door.

"Where are you going?" Jacob almost sounded afraid to be left alone with the boy and the fairy.

"To get Angie up."

"What if someone comes to the rooms and sees we've gone?" He asked.

"I will leave a note!" She hissed before disappearing down the hall.

Finding Angie sprawled out on the end of the bed, Moira debated how to go about waking her. Their mother always complained that out of all of them Angie was the child who gave her the most trouble in the mornings. It took her so long to wake up but once she was awake she was off like a rocket. She knelt next to bed to be at Angie's level.

She shook her shoulder, "Angie, wake up. Come on sissy." The girl made a soft noise and turned onto her stomach. Moira got onto bed and straddled Angie's back, whispering to her to try and coax her up more. "Time to get up, we've got to go."

"To the farm?" A muffled voice arose from the blanket.

"No," Moira wrapped her arms underneath Angie's torso, lifting her up off the bed. Angie moaned in protest but settled once she was turned around so she could clutch onto Moira. "Peter Pan's in our room and he's gonna take us away to Neverland. Won't that be fun?"

Eyes still closed and laying her head on Moira's shoulder, Angie nodded. "Mm-hm."

Once back in their bedroom, Moira disentangled Angie off her hip and made her stand up on the floor. Angie rubbed sleep out of her eyes before looking upon Peter.

"Hi," Angie said softly, not out of admiration but from recovering sleepiness. She also offered a small wave.

Peter grinned, "Hello." Tink appeared from behind him, herself curious and wary at the appearance of another human girl.

At the sight of Tink, Angie's face lit up and a grin spread across her face, "Tinkerbelle!" She exclaimed, approaching the fairy with her arms raised, "Pretty."

Much to everyone's surprise, Tink flew to the girl and let her hold her. Angie giggled with uttermost delight at holding a fairy, and Tink was just glad that she found a female too young to get between her and Peter. She gave Angie's nose a quick kiss.

Moira broke the silence, "Should we bring anything in particular?"

Peter shrugged, "Just anything you can't live without for a while. But remember you have to fly with it so keep it light."

Moira nodded, "Did you hear that, Angie?" Waiting for Angie to look at her she warned, "Keep it light because I'm not going to carry it when you get tired."

Tink flew off as Angie nodded. The little girl went about looking for anything she wanted to bring, Muffy being the first thing she picked up.

"Go get whatever you need Jacob," Moira said as she ripped out a piece of paper from her school notebook. She had just finished writing a note when Jacob grabbed it out of her hand to read it.

"Seriously?" He began to read it aloud, "'We've gone off to Neverland, be back before morning. No need to worry. XOXOXO'. You really think Mum and Dad won't freak out anyway if they find out we've gone?"

Grabbing the paper back, she folded it and put it on her desk, writing 'To Mum and Dad' on the top side. "It's better than nothing, now get whatever you want to bring." She looked over to Angie, "And put some shoes on."

Seeing that his sisters would not be persuaded to stay, Jacob saw no way out of it. Rolling his eyes he said, "Fine," before walking out the door to go get his stuff.

Moira put on her dullest pair of sneakers, while trying her laces she looked up Peter. "I know it's an island, but is it ever cold?"

"Only on certain parts of the island. Like at the top of the mountains or the north side, it gets quite cold there," Peter said.

"Angie, bring me your bag so I can put something warm in it," she told the girl, just realizing that Angie really couldn't pack for herself. "Why only the north side?"

Peter took a seat on the bed, watching her pull out a small rump sack from her closet. "It's spring, summer, fall and winter on all different parts of the island. If you want the lushest flowers you go west side near Mermaid's Lagoon. If you want to jump in the best fallen leaves then you go to the east near the Indian camp. When you want to play all day in the sunshine of summer you stay near the center of the island where our home lies."

"And what of the south?" Moira asked, noting it had been left out.

Peter stood straight up on the bed, his stance straight and his hand hovering above his holster on instinct. "That be where the pirates dwell in Cannibal Cove. Try not to go there unless prepared to do battle with buccaneers, because the beach in the cove is visible to the Jolly Roger and within cannon distance."

Jacob had returned with a small book bag, catching the end of Peter's warnings of the pirates. Moira asked him if he wanted to bring something warm and said that his long sleeved night shirt was enough. He had already put on a pair of sneakers.

"What did you pack anyway?" She asked. It prompted him to bring out one of the only items present in the bag, his ukulele. Moira stared at it, "Really?" She asked flatly.

"What? I can't fit my guitar and I can't live without my music," He explained. "Same reason you're bringing your sketchpad."

Moira had finally finished packing her rump sack, the pad going in last, and was now finishing helping Angie. She asked Moira if she would fix her hair up but she said she would after they finished flying, as the wind would probably ruin whatever she would do. She made sure to pack Angie's hair ties and a small brush. "That everything you want?" A nod from Angie. "Alright, than let's get going."

Jacob and Angie were led to Peter, who was hosting Tinkerbelle on his shoulder. "Do your stuff Tink."

The fairy flew over both children, absolutely coating them dust. Angie giggled as if it tickled while Jacob seemed to unconsciously be shrugging it off. Peter told them to think of a happy thought and much to everyone's surprise it was Jacob who was the first to fly. It startled him as much as everyone else and he almost fell right back down before he recovered.

"What was your happy thought?" Asked Moira, who had taken flight again and was floating near Jacob.

He looked at her sideways, as if embarrassed. "It was the lyrics that song by Herman's Hermits, 'I'm into Something Good'. It's one of my favorites, it just—I don't know—always makes me feel better on a bad day."

As Moira considered him, she didn't see Peter pick up Angie under her arms to give her a boost. "Ready Angie? One—two—three!" And he tossed her up in the air where she continued to go until she found herself sitting on the ceiling.

Jacob cracked a smile as Angie waved to him upside down. Turning to Moira he gently took her hand, and when she looked at him he asked softly, "This is really happening, isn't it? We're really about to fly to Neverland?"

She squeezed his hand and grinned, nodding. Peter took his place at the open window and beckoned the siblings over, having heard what Jacob asked. "You bet we are. Are you ready for adventure beyond imagination?"

Unable to contain her excitement, Moira grinned and exclaimed, "Yes!"

He took Moira's hand, who in turn took Jacob's and who dragged Angie off the ceiling. Moira looked into Peter's eyes, the deep pools that drew her in and twinkled like the very stars they followed as they flew out the window. The little birds sailed gaily through the sky toward the second star to the right and straight on until morning.

I want to thank everyone who's put this story on their alert or favorite list. It sounds silly but it is such an honor that people want to read my story this much. I'm sorry it took this long but I was dealing with the worst case of writers block and I so desperately wanted to get these children out that damn window and on their way to Neverland by the end of this chapter. I'm planning for the next chapter to open directly in Neverland, but maybe not from the POV people assume always assume would introduce Neverland. It's just a thought and might not happen, but it's something to keep you on your toes until the next chapter arrives. Thank you everyone, safe flight :)