"Jack?" Mr. Dawes, jr. demanded, confused, and Georgie confidently walked over to where Jack was huddling in his blanket. Jack forced himself to sit up properly when everyone's attention was suddenly on him, trying to make it appear he wasn't feeling rather miserable. Anyway, he was also feeling rather elated; he had a feeling, now that Mary Poppins had gathered them all there, that thing were about to come out exactly right.

"Yes," said Georgie. "You both have the same smile. Just like the boy in the poster."

"Boy in the poster…" Mr. Dawes, jr. gasped out, eyes no longer twinkling but growing very wide and a bit wet and he stared at Jack. It made Jack rather uncomfortable, and Jack looked down to avoid his gaze, fingers tightening on the blanket.

Mr. Wilkins, clearly recognizing where this was going, made a strong effort to escape while his captors were all distracted. Unfortunately for him, they responded to his twisting by again tightening their hold.

"Georgie," Annabel scolded, "We told you not to talk to Mr. Dawes, jr. about that. You'll make him feel sad."

"No…no, my girl," said the director of the bank. "Let him speak."

Georgie went up to the director again, his father making an effort to draw him back only to be stopped by Mary Poppins, and the young boy placed a hand on his knee.

"The boy who went missing, poor little Richie," Georgie explained, earnest in that way only the very young can be, before the world teaches them not to think in absolutes, "The boy looks like Jack, except of course Jack is grown and has dark hair. They have the same smile. And so do you."

"Didn't we always say that painting looks like Jack?" Freddie whispered. "Didn't we always say?"

Everyone was looking at Jack, as if seeing him for the first time. And in truth, banged up and wet as he was, the likeness wasn't nearly as obvious as it usually was. But now that Georgie had spoken, Mr. Dawes, jr. rose from his seat and tottered towards the slave, expression a confusing jumble of hope and grief.

"I…I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not him," Jack said, standing himself, blanket draped about his shoulders like a cloak and hair sticking up every which way. His face was very pale, except where he'd been hit. "I can't be him. I'm a whole year older and…and my name was never Richard. Or even Richie. I…I remember, you see. I never let on, but I held onto my name, after I was sold. It was my birthday. And that already makes me a different boy, doesn't it? My birthday is May 22, says so in my records and that's different from your boy, isn't it? I was three when he was two and…and my name was…Tesso."

Mr. Richard Dawes, jr. staggered, hand going to his heart, his face ashen, and everyone rushed to help him. Jack was closest, though, and it was Jack that Mr. Dawes, jr. clung to.

"My boy," he whispered, "My boy. Richard was your namesake, your legacy, your public name. But in our home, you were as your mom called you. Her little Tesero."

"No…but…" Jack stumbled out with, "That's not…my family didn't want me. They sold me on my third birthday. I…I wasn't wanted…"

"You were always wanted," Mr. Dawes, jr. insisted, voice stern, his grip changing from holding onto Jack as a way to keep himself from falling and becoming something more desperate, pulling Jack to him. "Our treasure. Our Tesero."

"He's too old," Mr. Wilkin's voice broke into their moment, bitter and grating, "He said so himself. He's too old to be your son."

Jack bit his lip and looked down, but Mr. Dawes, jr. didn't release him, just quietly drew his attention back to himself, away from Wilkins. Jack's friends helpfully shoved Wilkins back, not quite going so far as to gag him but hiding his view of the unfolding scene.

"My boy…you disappeared so young. Why are you so sure you were three years old?"

"I remember," Jack insisted. "My new name was Jack and…and they'd get angry if I answered wrong…I was three years old and my name was Jack. And I knew it was my birthday."

"How did you know? Did they tell you that?"

"No…I didn't believe anything they told me. They kept calling me Jack and…I held onto my real name in secret, I'd whisper it to myself in the dark. I just…knew it was my birthday, same way I knew my own name."

"There," Wilkins insisted. "You see? We have his papers and he's the wrong age, and the wrong hair color and…you can't possibly intend to elevate a slave based off of a smile?"

"It isn't lawfully sound," Mr. Gooding agreed.

Everyone just stood around at that for a moment. Mr. Dawes, jr. refused to let go of Jack, crying quietly, and it was clear he would be happy to admit Jack as family based off of a smile. Well, a smile and a name. Though it would tie everything up neatly if they could only solve the age issue. It was finally Jane who broke the silence.

"Georgie," she said, "What does it mean when you have a birthday?"

"Oh!" Georgie said, his eyes lighting up. "I get special cake and special presents and…and I'm a whole year older!"

"When is your birthday, Georgie?" she asked next.

"Oh…I don't remember. I think it's in a month, maybe? Is it soon? Birthdays are fun!"

"It's not until the fall," John corrected him. And then, sagely, speaking for him and his twin, "Ours is in the summer."

"I think I see your point, Jane," said Michael, looking at his children with a soft smile. "What does birthday mean to a little boy, except that he is one year older? Jack…you knew it was your birthday…because they told you that you were three."

"I have Jack's slave records here," Penny piped in. "I thought you might be wanting them. According to it, he was born May 22, 1904. But he was sold into slavery on January 2, 1907. If that were right, he should have been two when it happened, and over a year before your son was kidnapped."

"There…see!" Wilkins shouted, sounding a bit deranged and frantic.

"I think I do see," Jane said, frowning. "They looked for little Richie among the new two-year-old slaves…maybe even the three-year-old slaves just in case…but did they check among the long-established slaves? Especially one who was recorded as being three years old?"

"That…that's not…" Jack tried to say, but it was hard to speak, in part because he felt on the verge of tears from an overload of confusing emotions and in part because Mr. Dawes, jr. had gone from clutching his shoulder to a full on embrace.

"My son," he kept saying, "My Tesoro. My son."

"His hair is the wrong color!" Wilkins tried in one last frantic burst of denial. Mr. Dawes, jr. didn't even bother to let go of Jack or look in the man's direction when he answered, "The men in my family have a history of starting out blond and ending up dark haired. I myself was blond as a child, before my hair darkened to brown. Of course, it has gone white again in the end."

The police finally arrived.

"What's this?" they asked, taking in the rather confusing scene. Oddest of all was how four slaves dared to hold down one man, a man in a nice suit at that. The police looked askance at that, then gave their attention to the other Citizens in the room not being manhandled by slaves.

"My uncle has gone senile!" Wilkins exclaimed, seizing his chance. "He's convinced this slave boy is his long-lost son even though the slave's own record shows he couldn't be! The girl's a slave lover, part of some organization meant to free all the slaves; I think she put them up to this!"

The police looked in confusion first at Annabel, considering she was the only 'girl' in the room, before reassessing and eyeing both Jane and Mary Poppins.

"We were called and told there was an attempt on the life of one of the slaves?" was all the man in charge said, making no move to either free Wilkins or detain the women, but not looking inclined to help any of them either.

"That's right," Mr. Dawes, jr. said, letting go of Jack only so he could turn an expression of pure fury towards Wilkins. "My nephew tried to arrange the death of my son!"

"He's senile!" Wilkins insisted, "Just ask the lawyers!"

And suddenly Mr. Gooding and Mr. Frye had a lot more attention placed on them. Before they could speak, to confirm or deny, Michael stepped forward.

"I work in this bank," he said, "And I can attest that the director of the bank, Mr. Dawes, jr. is not senile and that Mr. Wilkins did have some hand in the current state of Jack."

Heads turned towards Jack again, who had the presence of mind to sit down in his chair and make himself look pathetic, realizing it would better serve his friends if he admitted, for once, to being hurt. It didn't take much effort; he really was feeling rather sore and confused and a whole host of conflicting emotions. Hope, fear, anger, sadness, confusion, hurt…that feeling of thinking you are hurting someone else because Mr. Dawes, jr. was so happy to find his son and Jack still felt an imposter…so he wasn't really acting, just letting things show.

"Former employee," Mr. Wilkins protested over Michael's statement. "The man just defaulted in a loan and is desperate to use a senile old man to get himself out of debt!"

"So…what's all this then?" said the police officer, stroking his chin and looking utterly uncertain of how to proceed. On the one hand, arresting such an important figure as Wilkins, an important looking man in a suit, on the word of a doddering old man, a bunch of slaves, a woman who had yet to deny working for slave rights, a man who may or may not be an employee and may or may not have defaulted on a loan and, for some reason, a group of children and their nanny…well that could lead to trouble. On the other hand, the doddering old man might well be the director of the bank; he was also well dressed, and the majority of the room deferred to him. Dismissing his concerns could also be a disaster.

"Sir," said some new men, joining the officers, "We searched the lower levels; there's no sign of Johnson. We did find a half-drowned rat in the room in question and destroyed it."

At that, half the slaves had to hold back an inappropriate laugh. They really shouldn't, not least because the officer had just said the rat had been killed, but it certainly made things a lot easier and the sudden release of some of the tension they had been holding onto made it hard not to giggle at least a little bit.

"I advise us all to take a step back," Mr. Gooding suggested, when the officers still made no move to arrest anyone. "Clearly some event has occurred concerning the slave Jack, and it involves the bank. We should take our time to assess all the evidence before doing anything so foolish as making accusations."

"Well, that's simple enough!" Mr. Frye agreed. "Perhaps, if the slave Penny could bring forth the relevant documents?"

"I have Jack's records here," Penny agreed, "And here are copies of the records pertaining to the Banks family; I'm afraid some are missing…it seems a page has gone missing in one of our ledgers…and here I have the transcripts for meetings held in Mr. Dawes, jr.'s office just as Mr. Dawes, jr. requested I keep…the last few are the most relevant, I believe."

"Those transcripts would never hold up in court," Mr. Gooding was quick to say, but Wilkins didn't hear him, already in the process of ripping free from his distracted captors at last to lunge for the papers Penny was holding out.

The police acted at last, tackling Wilkins down and restraining him before he could touch her.

In the end, they arrested him after all. Wilkins had gone a bit deranged, snarling out, "You can prove nothing! I did nothing wrong!" as they dragged him away, the three children cheering as they went.

In the silence that fell after, Mr. Dawes, jr. again grabbed hold of Jack, and anyone who looked at them in that moment could never deny that they had the exact same smile, for all they were both crying.

As for what happened after:

Mr. Frye, with Mr. Gooding's reluctant assistance, put their skills as lawyers to work and manage to prove that Jack's paperwork concerning his purchase into slavery was faulty; it was missing a relevant signature. Despite the trail being nearly thirty years old, enough relevant players were still alive, and, as it became increasingly clear that Wilkins was going down, were willing to spill the secrets of Wilkins' father and how they were bribed or threatened to accept faulty documents and ignore the crying pleas of a small boy who looked remarkably like a picture on certain missing posters. It all came out, in the end. How Jack had been kidnapped. How Wilkins had recognized the slave when he came to the bank and arranged to have him removed.

Jane and SPRUCE had a field day making sure the public knew and managed to throw into question the entire system of slavery. After all, if such an important Citizen's son could somehow be turned into a slave…it could happen to anybody. And Jack made such a likeable public figure that knowing how he'd suffered as a slave soon turned public opinion towards outrage.

Jane didn't quite manage to completely abolish slavery, but she did make a start in that direction and certainly made the lives of slaves much more comfortable. Most importantly, since the lawyers were never able to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt (even though everyone was convinced) that Jack and little Richie were one and the same…new laws had to be created just to end Jack's slavery. Which meant there had to be a viable path for slaves to become free Citizens. Jack is the first slave to become a free Citizen, but none of his leerie friends die as slaves. Angus and Charlie are the second to achieve it, after Jack. Charlie ends up marrying Jane.

Angus, during the first turmoil of change, almost gets into very real trouble when he refuses to leave Jack's side. Jack is, of course, immediately removed from the slave quarters to live with Mr. Dawes, jr. and Angus quietly follows after him. If anyone asked, he'd claim to be Jack's personal slave. Jack is so confused over the sudden changes that it doesn't even occur to him that Angus has basically abandoned his post as a City slave to come along. Luckily, Mr. Dawes, jr. takes one look at Jack's face when a couple of City officials come after their wayward slave, and promptly apologizes for kidnapping Angus, and then makes his new position official. Jack's father might make his own assumptions about Jack and Angus's relationship, but he never seems bothered by it and basically welcomes Angus as a sort of second son.

Michael, for the record, kept his house but not his job, because Mr. Dawes, jr. insists on promoting him to a high paying position that is nonetheless part time which mostly involves overseeing employee and slave treatment at the bank. Not only does Michael get to keep the house, not only is his original loan completely paid off, but Mr. Dawes, jr. insists that George Banks had created an account in Michael's name years and years ago and even after he took out the money to cover the loan there was still a lot left. On top of that, he still had his father's bank shares. His children no longer feel the need to help him run his household, though they still somewhat enjoy doing the shopping or helping Ellen clean, and are often seen playing together in the park. Sometimes with Jack and Angus.

Mysteriously, the two men who made Jack's life such a misery when he was a slave are never heard from again.

Mary Poppins stays long enough to see the trees in blossom, long enough for those with light hearts to fly, holding onto their balloons, and then leaves as suddenly as she came.

She does return, of course. She's Mary Poppins.

And they all live happily ever after.

The end.