Hi, my dear readers!

Thank you for the feedback, and once again sorry for the late update, but it's always the same: Time is running out for me during the days, sigh.

In this chapter a lot is going to happen, because Peter is now really back in Kensington Gardens, but he learns that time doesn't even stop in the park. Furthermore Dalton's mean little trick concerning custom comes to fruition.

Have fun

Yours Lywhn / Starflight

Chapter 64 – Peter Pan back in Kensington Gardens

Olivia Simpson was putting a pan of sausages into the oven. Madame Lunette had told her that the viscount was expected back that evening, so the current chambermaid/ cook/ housekeeper/ laundress was making dinner not only for the current guests within the manor, but also for the viscount, the two hunters and Fulsom. But that wasn't the reason why the girl's stomach was twisting. She knew that the professor had been caught telephoning Miss Darling's family only half an hour ago. They called him a traitor, then took him down to the cell below. So Madame Lunette had come to the kitchen to distract Olivia; talking with her about the dinner and what to serve the guests the next day. For Madame Lunette still knew nothing about Oliva being privy to the manor's dark secrets and that the brownie had furtively informed the maid of the Welshman's fate.

Olivia was horrified. She wanted to help the nice, old gentleman, but how? If she got caught, she would certainly be locked up, too. And one thing more busied her mind. Had Madame Lunette and those 'hunters' forgotten that they were locking up an university professor? Didn't they know that he would report them for holding him prisoner? Surely the scholar would call the police as soon as he got out, and then Madame Lunette and the viscount's friends would be arrested – maybe the viscount, too.

Her thoughts turned another corner and went to a dark place: Perhaps Professor Hutchings wouldn't be able to report them if … if he were dead.

The thought that the older man might be killed … here – a staged accident perhaps – made her blood run cold, and she shuddered. The professor would still be needed for the dragonling, but afterwards … afterwards … Hopefully Miss Darling and that captain arrived in time. Olivia didn't doubt that those two, maybe some of the crew and that mysterious boy would try to help.

But would they make it in time?

*** PP *** PP ***

Peter and Hook sat on the bench, watching ducks, children, and flowing water before the boy rose. Together they continued their perambulation along the lake toward the north, leaving the Serpentine and Hyde Park behind them. They were now in the old Kensington Gardens and Peter pointed out a few places that held memories for him – where his 'nest-boat' ran ashore after he sailed from the Bird's Island; the location where he landed after running away from home the first time, and so on.

While this went on, Tinker Bell sulked in his collar, and Aurora could only shake her head and try to talk sense into her – so quietly that even Peter didn't understand what she said. The rose fairy knew that her friend was wary about the situation – that Tink feared losing the boy she loved so much – but this was Peter's decision to make. His alone. The fae had meddled with his life enough – first the fairies of Kensington Gardens and then those of Neverland. True, Aurora was a fairy, too, but her marriage with a pixie had opened her eyes. Not everything was 'golden fairy dust,' there were also things fairies did that hurt others. And even if Peter had wished to stay a boy forever, Mab had had no right to trick him like she obviously did. Because of her and the others, the toddler had missed the opportunity to return home. That Tink was about to do the same irritated Aurora. The star fairy had no right to influence the boy now, seeing the true second chance had presented itself, to become a normal boy with a family.

Peter wasn't aware of the two fairies' subdued dispute, being too distracted. He had been in Kensington Gardens too often to count (even if he had learned to count to more than twenty), but this time he saw how much the park had changed. After accompanying Tinker Bell to Neverland, he always arrived here after sundown and left again before the daylight hid his view to the second star to the right – his guide to Neverland. Now, after so long, he saw the Royal Gardens in the sunshine again, and he was surprised how much the tree had grown, how many new thickets and flower beds had been planted, and buildings sprung up.

It came to him again how much everything had changed, but he had remained the same. And for the first time, this fact seemed … odd. Then the magic reached out to him.

There were the flower beds and only those who believed in fairies could see them among the plants; masking themselves as flowers when humans bypassed them. He saw the people around him – walking, talking, laughing, their clothes different from what he remembered. There were children who played at the shores of the Long Water, and he knew that more of them were certainly at the large round lake to the west, the Round Pond.

Shouts and laughter reached him from the left, and wide-eyed, Peter saw a few boys his size playing with a ball, but not wild and recklessly, but by rules. Pausing, he watched the boys who had all thrown aside caps and jackets, and saw they were playing in two teams against each other. They tried to kick the ball over two lines at opposite ends of the field, marked with sticks and shoes. A few more children stood on the sidelines, shouting encouragement.

"What's that game?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. I don't know this game. Perhaps it's the game 'football' Wendy told me about," Hook murmured, fascinated.

Behind them other voices whooped. Turning around, they saw two small rowboats on the Long Water, obviously racing. The boys on the thwarts appeared a bit older than Peter, but they were having a lot of fun, spurred on by other boys and adults on both sides of the lake.

"Dad! Granddad!"

The shout came from ahead of them, and Peter saw a boy running away from his mother and throwing himself into the arms of a man about Hook's apparent age, and then wrapping his arms around the older man with him. "You're here! I'm glad you could come!" he called happily. The woman, closing a parasol of white lace, walked to the three and smiled gently. "Arthur, Father, I'm so glad that you could be here this afternoon." She kissed the younger man's cheek and then the older one, while laying a loving hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy beamed from one to the other.

Peter watched the little family, his expression hard to read. The sight reminded him of the night he brought Wendy and her brothers home the first time, the laughter and play in the nursery. "They have fun," he said softly.

"Obviously," Hook replied wryly.

Peter bit his lips. "So, we in Neverland have fun, but children here have it, too."

James could almost see the wheels in the boy's head turning. "Of course. After school, children that age go outside and play – at least those who don't have to help their parents. Probably for the children of the middle and upper class, but I'm sure that even the little ones in the lower classes have time for games, thanks to their late queen."

Peter nodded slowly, ignoring Tink's irritated chiming from his collar. Curious, he continued to watch the other boys play, then behind him the cheers got louder. Turning around, he saw that the two rowboats were on their way back to the bridge and that the audience at the shores were whooping and waving hats – even the grownups.

"Boat race," Hook said slowly. "I remember my time in Eton – that's a school for boys in the upper classes," he explained as he saw Peter's confused face. "We rowed against each other, but mostly we trained to race against teams of other schools, like Oxford and Cambridge. It was fun, but we were also very proud when we won."

With big eyes Peter looked up at him. "You raced when you were younger?"

"Aye, just like those boys over there. We trained every day for weeks in all kinds of weather before the race took place. And for days afterward, the races were THE topic of discussion – as well as the new pranks we played on the teacher and professors. The trick about playing pranks was not getting caught. It's better when the teacher doesn't know who played the prank, then we all had a special joke between us that we laughed about for the rest of the term."

Peter grinned at him. "That must have been fun."

Hook smiled back. Deep down he knew that all of it – the familiar Gardens, the boys and men playing, the families around them – had wakened the boy's curiosity and maybe even an old longing that had been buried. This would lure Peter further away from that playground, Neverland, and bring him closer to this world. At least James … hoped … that this was the case. He was surprised to realize how much he wished that Peter would stay.

"Did you play a lot of pranks?" (Of course, Peter Pan had to ask this question.)

With a sigh James murmured, "Looking back, I suppose I did. Only I didn't see them as pranks, but as teasing."

"See! That's what I told you!" Peter grinned, pointing at him in triumph. "And you probably loved to ignore orders, too."

"Hm," Hook ruefully looked aside. "When you're in the Royal Navy, obedience is the highest principle. But, at your age I suppose I had a problem grasping the concept."

"You mean, you were like me," the Prince of Neverland translated, smirking.

"At times. It was dangerous. For example, when I played in the ruins of the old abbey, or explored the secret passage from the manor to the other side of the gardens into the woods up the hill."

Peter's eyes lit up. "There's a secret passage to the manor?"

Hook chuckled. "Don't get your hopes up for another 'awfully big adventure,' you scamp," he said and ruffling Peter's hair. (The boy's cap had been taken by the wind on the Westminster Bridge.) "My father ordered the passage closed and filled when I left home the last time. He thought it could be a weak point in the manor's safety."

Peter asked, "So was it closed?"

The captain sighed; something close to sadness appeared in his eyes. "I don't know. When I returned from sea, my father and my brother were already dead, and I was a hunted man."

Remembering Hook's personal fate, the youth bit his lip, then he looked thoughtfully at him, realizing something. "It must be … awful for you to be here again, knowing that all of your family are … gone, while you're still … well … you."

Hook took a deep breath. "Not awful. But must be you. Your parents are already dead, so is your younger brother. All the people around you and even the Gardens have changed, haven't they?" As Peter slowly nodded, the captain added, "But you haven't. You're still a boy, having fun and playing games." He gestured toward the little family. "And I'm sure the older man over there remembers his own childhood here in the Gardens. You might have seen him here as a little boy when you visited here."

Peter was silent for a long moment, beginning to grasp the enormity of his extended childhood. "You're saying I might have known that old man when he was a boy like me?" He swallowed. "Eerie."

"Aye," James nodded, already assuming where this talk would lead. "Time doesn't stop here."

And the penny dropped a second time since the last evening. "The same will happen to you," Peter said quietly and gulped. "You'll grow old like that man over there and one day …" He didn't finish the sentence but glanced fearfully at the buccaneer.

"And one day I will die, yes," James replied softly.

"While I … I'll be still a boy … then …" Tears sprang into his eyes and his lip began to tremble.

Laying his hand gently on the boy's shoulder, Hook replied, "The curse of an extended life, Peter. You remain the same while around you people change, age and die. And then others come to you that you like, and …"

"… And I lose them, too, after a while." They had spoken about this topic the evening before, when Hook told Peter about his feelings for Wendy. Now he fully realized what the pirate captain had meant then. "Just like my mother – just like Maimie, Solomon Caw – just like you and Wendy one day …" He took a very deep breath. "I don't want that!" he declared and shook his head. "Not anymore!"

For a moment James thought he saw a red glow under the boy's collar and he heard the furious ringing. And before Peter could say anything, he hissed, "Tinker Bell, stop that nonsense or you and your rose friend will get caught. Calm down!"

Tinker Bell was a hair's breadth away from darting out of her hideout and setting Hook's moustache on fire, or whatever she had to do to shut this man up. She knew exactly what he was doing – convincing Peter to remain in London by making him dread the prospect of losing the people he cared for who remained here. As grateful as she was that the pirate had come to the rescue for them recently, he had now turned into an opponent – at least for her. She wanted Peter to come back with her to Neverland where they could have their own special kind fun, but the boy she loved was about to throw his childhood away. At first because of Wendy and now for the man who once had been his deadliest enemy. By Oberon! She couldn't allow this, but what could she do?

Angry and helpless, it was almost too much for her to bear (after all, you remember that fairies can only have one feeling at a time), she glanced at Aurora. Her friend smiled sadly at her, stroking her friend's cheek. "Love is wonderful, but sometimes it also means letting go," she whispered. As she saw tears collecting in Tink's eyes, she added quietly, "But no decision is made. If Hook can return to Neverland with Wendy, then Peter won't stay here. He's afraid of losing the both of them, that's why he's thinking these heavy thoughts and ponders leaving Neverland."

Tinker Bell dashed away her tears, determination on her face. "Then I must be the one to convince Mab to speak with her mother. And if that doesn't work, I will have to fly back to Neverland alone and try to persuade Niam to allow them all back there!"

Aurora smiled at her. "That's the spirit!"

Peter hadn't heard their conversation. His attention was on Hook. What he had just figured out shook him deeply, that he'd now reached the crossroad he had avoided for so long: Returning to Neverland and staying a boy, losing those he loved in the process. Or staying here, growing up and having those he loved, hopefully for many, many years.

Everything depended on Niam – and Mab! If Niam allowed Hook to return to Neverland, then everything would be all right!

Peter looked up. "I have to do something," he said slowly. "Just stay here, I won't be long." Before he could walk away, Hook caught his arm.

"Where are you going?"

"I already told you: I have to thank Mab for her help. I'll hurry," Peter replied, but James could tell that the boy was speaking a half-truth.

"I know to what you're really up to," he said bluntly. "You want to ask Mab to convince her mother to let my men and me return to Neverland." He frowned as he saw the boy nodding slowly. "She won't give in," he said quietly.

Peter straightened. "I have to try."

James sighed. He knew this boy, especially when his jaw was set and his eyes flashed. He wouldn't stop him. "Be careful," he murmured. "No one knows what goes on in a fairy's head when she is irritated, so don't push her."

"The way I see it, she has two choices – she and her mother: Agreeing to my wish or losing me." He turned, but Hook stopped him a second time.

"What about your friends in Neverland if you stay here? The New Lost Boys and -"

"One of them becomes the new Pan if I stay." Peter's voice rose as if the captain wanted to object. "That's just the way it is. Niam once told me that I can be replaced – if I didn't survive something, for example. A new Pan would be chosen if I was no longer … around. No difference if I was dead or just left."

For a moment Hook was surprised at how dispassionately the boy spoke about his own possible demise, then he remembered that Peter never feared death. Like most children, he didn't understand its finality … nor its eternal implications. But he did now. He had been very close to the Grim Reaper a few times and knew people died. Maybe this was another step on the path he walked since he brought Wendy to Neverland. The first tender feelings, the grasping of the concept 'death', understanding responsibility … all were parts of maturing, of the dreaded 'growing up.' And looking at the boy closely, he could see that the inch Peter had grown since the kidnapping wasn't the only change he'd been through.

Peter Pan was a hair's breadth away from crossing a threshold with no turning back. Beyond this threshold lay adulthood. He was sure Niam would be shocked if she saw the eternal boy now.

Which brought him back to the topic at hand. "And if Mab doesn't succumb to your blackmail?" he queried. "I've lived long enough in Neverland to know how the fae tick. They are full if mischief and can get vicious -"

"I don't think that it would come to that," Peter said, "Mab knew me since I was very small, and Niam raised me. They won't like it, but I'm sure they would understand."

Hook knew that he couldn't stop the boy, but there was one more thing. "A moment, I have to know how much time we have." He politely asked a passing gentleman the time, then returned to an already impatient Peter.

"It's a quarter past five. We have forty-five minutes before our friend picks us up," he said. "Will you be done by then?"

Peter shrugged. "I don't know exactly what forty-five minutes is, but I'll hurry."

"The bell tower will ring six times. That's when Mr. Kempton will be waiting for us," Hook explained; wondering – again – how someone so old and experienced as this boy could know so little.

"I understand." Then the youth pointed straight ahead. "At the end of the lake are some stone railings. They put them there before I left the Gardens. So many workers stayed after the gates were locked, I followed Tink to Neverland so as not to get caught. The gate Daniel talked about is there. I'll see you there." He jogged away before the buccaneer could hold him back a third time, vanishing suddenly to the left.

Hook sighed, feeling abandoned. That was stupid. He was a grown man after all! But, dammit, he had a bad feeling – one that grew as the moments passed, but there was nothing he could do now except to walk to the stone railings, the construction which drove away the very young Peter Pan and brought him to Neverland. How strange!

Rubbing his face, he continued down the path, only to stop at a larger flower bed full of blossoming narcissuses. He scowled, instantly noticing the movements between the flowers. Tiny faces stared up at him and a few wings twitched. When the fairies realized that he could really see them, and looked shocked.

"Aye, I see you, you little troublemakers! I have known many of you in Neverland," he sneered. A few of the fairies began to hide in the calyxes, others continued to look at him, wide-eyed. "Don't fret, two of your kin – Tinker Bell and Aurora – are something like friends to me." Then Hook noticed the strange glances he was getting, a sea captain talking to flowers.

Sighing, he turned away and thought he heard a giggle, but shrugged it off, still unaware of Kailen's presence in his coat pocket. He headed north where he could see something at the end of the lake, indeed, there was the white balustrade and figures. As he drew nearer, he recognized that above the lake was another separate portion of the park. And there was music coming from there. Reaching this area, he whistled through his teeth as he became aware of the basins, figures, statues, balustrades and benches Peter had told him about. Most of them were white marble or white stone, exquisitely styled, and looking very Mediterranean. This was the so-called Italian Garden, laid out by Queen Victoria and her husband. But Peter was right: He liked this part of the Gardens. He liked it very much!

He saw a few musicians in a small pavilion playing violins and other instruments he didn't recognize, but the music was sweet. People gathered around the pavilion or relaxed on benches, and so he sat beside an older gentlemen, murmured a politeness and listened to the music – unaware of the trouble that was so close.

*** PP ***

Peter scampered through the underbrush. He knew exactly where to find Queen Mab's winter palace. Nearing a ring of old chestnut trees, he saw the simple, long, angular reddish stone that had been placed there after he left the Gardens to live in Neverland. That was where the palace was located, surrounded by a low fence made of black iron. Peter didn't know why it had been placed there at all; he couldn't read the sign on it. It could have told him that this was a memorial of Speke, an explorer – the first European who discovered Lake Victoria in Africa for the Europeans.

Moving into the ring, he found the large root knotted above the ground, invisible to human eyes, the entrance to the fairy palace. Tink came out of Peter's collar and took to the air, speaking softly to him; Aurora followed her.

"Right, please announce me," the youth sighed, knowing Mab stood on ceremony.

Tinker Bell raced to the large old root where a few guards appeared. They recognized the eternal boy, turned around and called into the root. In moments, fairies shot out of the holes, surrounding Peter and greeting him happily. He knew many of them, others were unfamiliar. Their golden dust rained down on him and tickled his nose, making him sneeze. He felt completely lighthearted for the first time since he had been kidnapped; he felt the joy only felt when fairy dust covers your skin, making your mood soar. Even as Hook had given him safety, taking away the dread of the last days, Peter hadn't felt like this. He also didn't realize … that his feet were a few inches off the ground.

The sound of tiny drums emanated from the root, inaudible to humans, but familiar to Peter. The queen's guards were coming. And not to defend the Gardens against folks who dared to stay after Lock-Out. They accompanied the Queen.

She departed the palace like a sunbeam breaking through the clouds of a winter sky – clad in the shining white of the summer sun with the seams printed in the color of the garden soil. Her eyes were as green as the meadows at the Long Water's shore, her long hair red like the leaves in autumn, wound at the back of her neck, held by a crown of new leaves. She was as beautiful as her mother, but of a different quality. While Queen Niam's beauty could make a man go mad, her daughter captured all men with an irresistible charm which bound him to her forever. It was reported that only the artist Rackham had seen her once without losing his mind, but was driven to paint his vision until it reached perfection; that he had been able to escape her enchantment only because he had long busied himself with the old legends.

Peter was immune to her 'glamour,' still being a child; he could talk with Niam for hours without succumbing to her will. His innocent heart protected him in a way no grownup could ever count on again. He smiled when he saw Mab emerging and bowed deeply, as the sound of drums increased.

Mab looked at him; her mouth fell open in surprise. By Oberon, the boy had grown! It was still Peter, but he had grown so much larger than the little one she had protected. Lifting her staff (made of a seasonal flower,) she caused the drummers to cease, and silence spread over the small clearing between the chestnut trees. The other fairies returned to her side, a few remaining with Peter.

Tinker Bell dropped in front of Mab and curtseyed, then requested an audience. Mab smiled briefly, then she waved Peter nearer. Peter knelt before her – not for protocol, but to hear her. Yet he made sure to bow his head one last time and kept his mouth shut, for she would have to speak first.

Niam's daughter looked at him a few moments, then spoke to him. Peter felt the soft pressure in his head before he heard the (once familiar, now almost foreign) voice in his mind: "I see the boy I once knew, now grown ... I see eyes I knew in an older face. And I feel the same childlike joy but with shadows hovering over the once careless happiness. Neverland changed you but it always does to people. And the return to this world has changed you even more. There is heaviness in your soul and sadness in your heart, young Pan. Could this be the result of what happened to you those few days you were in captivity?"

Peter took a deep breath. "Yes and no, Lady. But before I answer your question, I want to first thank you for your aid, for your help when you sent out your warriors to find me. for the ointment you gave Tink, Aurora and Kaileen. It's healing power worked really fast."

A kind expression filled her face. "You're welcome, Peter. You know, Fae will not trust humans easily, but once gained, our friendship is true to those to whom we've opened our hearts." She tilted her head. "Yet there is still the matter of the dark mood inside you. What is it, little Betwixt-and-Between?"

Betwixt-and-Between… Solomon had called Peter that as the infant was stranded on the Birds' Island all those decades ago. And – he didn't know why – but he didn't like this title anymore, but he knew better than to mention it at this audience. He was on a mission and needed Mab's goodwill. He took a deep breath.

"As a prisoner of the evil man and later in their workhouse, I was angry and afraid but what hurt more than that was thinking that the only man I ever learned to trust, who even risked his life for me, was dead – killed by the dark man who kidnapped me." A fairy of the court spoke, and Peter nodded. "Yes, he's like a father to me."

Mab frowned. "You speak of the one-handed mortal who walks the paths of the Gardens this afternoon with you. The same man who fought side by side with you against the warlock." She raised a brow. "He is very much alive."

"Yes, but I couldn't know that. I thought he died when he tried to protect me. When your warriors came to the orphananionamon…" here all fairies looked really confused, "well, the house where children with no mother or father are sent," he said; Mab nodded and indicated he should continue. "Well, when your warriors came, he was already there. I've only learned a few hours before that he wasn't dead but alive, and—"

"Then you should be soaring and dancing in the air with joy," Mab commented wryly.

Peter sighed, shaking his mop. "I would – I really would! – if I wasn't going to lose him again."

Many of the fairies gasped, and Mab frowned. "What do you mean?"

As you readers know so well, Peter loved to play the hero and he loved pretending, but for once he didn't have to act the role. His heart was very heavy with the prospect of losing the pirate captain. "You see, when Wendy – a very, very good friend – and I were kidnapped, this man – James Hook – immediately weighed anchor to follow us. He only wanted to save Wendy and me. And to rescue the dragon egg that was kidnapped, too." Here the fairy whispers rose up all over the clearing, for they didn't know about the abducted, unhatched dragonling. "But by leaving Neverland …"

"He left my mother's realm and cannot return," Mab finished. "And when you return home, he must remain and you will lose him."

Swallowing, Peter nodded, sorrow plain on his lovely face. "I … I can't lose him again. It hurt so much when I thought he was dead. It felt like I was torn into two and … I couldn't really breathe. It was like a knife had been stabbed into my heart." His hand went over his heart.

Muted jingling was heard all around him as he heard the words of compassion in the little beings; and he thought he might even see it Mab's face, for she said in his mind, "Loss is always very painful – a knowledge I tried to shield you from, even back then when you were very small, trying to go home. I knew what lay ahead for you in the end. But as you overcame the loss of the woman in the nursery you once called home, even so you will overcome-"

"Hook has become my father," Peter interrupted her; avoiding the sensitive topic of his real mother. "He's there for me when I need advice, protection or someone to talk to. We have fun, we sometimes argue, then we have adventures together or a quiet day at sea. He gave up the safety of Neverland for me and is now in this world that … that is so different from the world he left so long ago. I heard him admitting that he feels forlorn here, and that he wants to go home, meaning Neverland. And I … I don't want to be without him in Neverland. It just feels … wrong." He took a second deep breath. "Can … could you speak with your mother? That she would allow him to return?

Mab would have bet her last dress that this was the main reason for Peter's coming. The boy had a big heart. He was helpful to everyone who needed aid, but he could also be selfish. Looking at him closely, she said, "You didn't need a mother or a father when you still lived in the Gardens. Why do you need one now?"

Peter knew that he had to be completely honest. Fae had a sixth sense when it came to hidden truths, hidden lies, excuses, and they hated them. So he answered truthfully, "I didn't know how much he meant to me until I thought him dead. It's not that I depend on him – never! – but … he is my friend. Maybe you'd call him a mentor, just like you were when I still lived in the Gardens. You had become like a mother to me – and now James had become like a father. I cannot lose him again. Please, speak with your mother to make this exception!"

"He left Neverland and-"

"But he only left and sacrificed his crew's and his own safety to rescue me. Me and the dragon. And Wendy. Doesn't that count for anything?" Peter whispered pleadingly. "James risked everything not only for Neverland, but also for your mother and the Little People when he fought against the dark wizard. He was ready to give his life for them and for me back then – in spite of our history … when I ... I … I cut off his right hand. He 'jumped over his own shadow' to keep Neverland alive. And now he's risking everything to rescue the dragonling before the dragon lord burns down Neverland in revenge. Neverland owes Hook – Niam owes him. I owe him – three times and more. And even more: without him I wouldn't be half the hero you all think I am. Over the last years we acted as one. Can you imagine what would happen the next time some villain shows up and threatens Neverland, and I am on my own? I know I wouldn't be as successful as I was with James at my side."

Mab listened with surprise. Peter Pan, of all people, giving the credit to someone else! "What happened to 'the best there ever was'?" she asked.

Peter shrugged. "I'm still the best boy that ever was – and James is the best man that ever was. When he thinks too much like a grownup, I can shake him out of it. And when I'm too… well … enthusiastic, he holds me back and prevents me from getting hurt. Or killed. We … we're a team."

Mab exchanged a look with her chancellor, who seemed rather abashed, then he said something and threw an apologetic glance at the boy. The fairy queen sighed heavily. "I can understand why this man means a lot to you, but the rules say that -"

"Since when do fairies follow rules?" Peter interrupted her. As Tink slapped her hand over her mouth, he saw the shocked faces around him and realized that the words had come out the wrong way. Ooops! "Uh, I mean, since when do you fairies care about old rules? You make your own rules; you don't follow any other laws. You're far too powerful to obey the ones you don't like." He remembered how to be charming, and as the tiny faces began to beam again, he added sweetly, "You, Queen Mab, make the rules." A few fairies even applauded, while Tinker Bell and Aurora tried to keep their faces neutral. Clever lad! "So I'm sure that you can arrange to allow James, his men, Wendy and the ship to return. It will be to everyone's benefit."

Tilting her head to the other side, Mab switched the flower staff into her other hand. "You make a good argument, young Pan, and I know from my mother what the one-handed man did for Neverland. I cannot promise you anything, but I will put forward your request to my mother."

A wide smile spread over Peter's face. "Thank you!" he breathed.

"Like I said, no promises, but I will try my best. I will send one of my warriors to the ship in the harbor next to the large bridge with the blue ropes when I've talked with my mother." She watched him closely. "What, if she rejects your request?"

Peter's boyish features seemed to mature, as if he were suddenly on the brink of manhood, and it almost frightened the fairies. "Then I only have two choices: Lose my father and go through that pain again, watch him age from afar and stand at his grave one day while I'm still small and wearing leaves. Or stay here, be his son, let him raise me and become that which I always dreaded: a man. But then, at least, we would have years together before he dies old and grey – before I follow him one day into the ground and under one of those stones, with my name."

Mab stared at him, horrified. "You would … you would leave Neverland? Throw away the gift of eternal childhood?" As Peter looked at her, unwavering, she realized that he was indeed serious. "And what about Neverland – and you as the Pan?"

He straightened and rose. "If I take this step, then I'll give you back my pipe. With it, you can elect another boy as the Pan – maybe one of my Lost Boys." He forced a cheerful smile on his face. "But I don't think that it will come to that. I know your mother always holds Neverland's welfare first, and knows that it would be better if Hook and I return together." For a long moment, boy and fairy queen looked at each other, then Peter bowed. "Am I dismissed?"

Mab was caught up in the thoughts of what she'd just heard, but she nodded. "Yes, yes, go back to your friends," she murmured, clearly shocked.

"My thanks," Peter replied and turned around to go, but stopped and turned. "Your Majesty?" he said, and as she raised her green eyes, he said softly, "I meant it. I'm grateful that you sent help. And I'll never forget what you and the others did for me when I was still too little to stay on my own. But outside this ring of trees, the world has changed and so have I. Please, don't be angry with me, I'm still the boy you once took in, but even Neverland couldn't prevent my growing. And even if I forget a lot – Hook always teases me about that – I still remember many things. And one of them is losing someone I really cared for. You must understand that I don't want this to happen again."

Mab looked at him sadly. "For us whose lives are measured in centuries, it's always an arrival and goodbye of others. Even I have lost friends. It brings sorrow, yes, but this is how the world works."

Peter remembered his talk with Hook. "The curse of a long life, I know," he nodded. "And until recently, I didn't care – maybe because I didn't know then what … what love means."

Many fairies were startled by this confession, and even in Mab's eyes something began to flicker. "Love, Peter Pan? Love is for God and grownups."

"So I once thought, but love is for children, too. They love their friends, their siblings, their pets – and their parents," he added quietly. " 'Love has many faces'," he quoted Hook. "Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it makes you laugh and fly, another time it confuses you. I'm just now learning about it, but I'm sure you know what I mean." He bit his lip and frowned. "And now I'm sounding like Great Big Little Panther," he sighed.

He lifted a hand and waved to the puzzled faces around him. "Until later, friends." Then he bowed deeply towards Mab, "Your Majesty." He turned and jogged away; Tinker Bell and Aurora weren't the only ones watching him go. The star fairy was about to follow him, as Mab's sharp command stopped her. "Tinker Bell, a word, please!"

She had feared that it would come to this. Sighing, she asked Aurora to follow Peter, to keep an eye on him, while she flew down to Mab. She really wished her audience was already over, as Mab asked, "What happened to him? He has grown far too much for my taste!"

*** PP ***PP***

"Smee?" Mason stood at the railing and looked from the docks away over his shoulder. "I dinna like tha'!"

Smee, who sat on the deck together with some comrades, smoking his pipe, enjoying the first real warm rays of the late afternoon sun, looked up. "Wha' noo?" he sighed, expecting some completely normal event to have unnerved the superstitious man. Grunting, he rose, rubbed his lower back, and went to Alf. "Wha's be yer quesch'n?" he asked.

"T'ose men over t'ere look rat'er … fishul an' d'ere starin' at our ship fer some time now."

Bryan followed the extended finger and saw four men wearing dark blue uniforms and black caps, very much like the one his captain now wore, only that there were other emblems. And Mason was right: They were all looking with serious faces at the Jolly Roger.

"Hm, I dinna like tha', too," the old Irishman murmured. "Th' air smells uv trubble."

Down on the pier the four men were looking at the old galleon. Seeing her up close was indeed impressive, and they took a few moments to enjoy the view. A breath of the old days of the St. Catherine Dock's seemed to waft through the salty air, but the four men only permitted themselves a brief moment of nostalgia, then duty called.

"Right, gentlemen, let's go," they heard the man with three golden stripes on the end of his sleeves say, and they approached the ship where the gangway was hoisted.

This official really hoped that this was a misunderstanding, because he so didn't want to get those sailors and their 'pirate' captain into trouble, but if they had hidden valuable things aboard, then it was his duty to reveal them and to demand a tax – together with jail for the commander. Tax had to be declared only hours after arrival, otherwise it was regarded as attempted smuggling. He hoped the ominous call the HM Customs and Excise received an hour ago from a Viscount Ashey or Ashman or somebody turned out to be a bad joke.

Nearing the ship, he saw an old man and a younger one with dark, tousled hair looking down on them. "Ahoy!" he called up. "My men and I are from the HM Customs and Excise office. Please lower the gangway. We are coming aboard."

The two men glanced at each other, before the older one answered with a strong Irish accent, "No can do, sir, fer th' capt'n isn't 'ere, and I've strict orders t' let none aboard!"

The custom inspector sighed. "Inform your first officer that a customs inspection must be performed. I'm sure he'll makes this exception."

A few members of the crew appeared at the railing and looked down. Smee scratched his head. "We've no first officer. I'm the bo'sun and th' capt'n's right hand, so t' speak. An' he ordered me t' let no-one aboard in his absence."

Beside the inspector one of the men began to snort in amusement. "They not only look like pirates, they seem to have the same rules."

"Boatswain, I'm Customs Inspector Grove, and believe me, your captain will understand you allowing us aboard even if he isn't present. We are the authority on these docks, and he could get in very deep trouble, because every crew must allow the customs inspector aboard."

Herbs came up behind Smee. "English Customs," he whispered. "What can t'ey possibly want?"

"Searching for treasures, amigos," a voice said behind them; turning around they saw the Klabautermann standing there, pipe in hand. Mason squeaked but was ignored.

"Wha'?" Smee stared at the ship's sprite.

"We're pirates and pirates have treasures," Esteban shrugged, speaking quietly. "Of course they want their share."

"They're supposed t' think we're pretend-pirates," Cookson reminded him. "T capt'n's idea, not mine," he added with a grimace.

Esteban took a puff before he pointed his pipe towards the pier. "Tell that to the men down there." He glanced up with ancient green-blue eyes. "If I be you, I would seal the entrance to the capitaño's secret chamber or you will soon be behind bars – him as well."

Mullins, Albino and Sky turned away from the railing, knowing that the sprite was right.

"An' me?" Smee asked.

Esteban groaned. "Lower the gangway, or those men will come back to arrest you all, because they'll think you be hiding something."

Well, that was true. They were indeed 'hiding something.' The two large, filled treasure chests were, after all, aboard. And in the hold were the tapestries, furniture of kings and art from the Black Castle, but perhaps they could explain them to the customs officials. Smee knew that he had to buy time for his comrades to make the door in the back of the weapon chamber leading to the secret hold 'invisible'. Or, he might be able to keep them off the ship. So he took a deep breath and straightened his stout figure.

"Brutes, lower th' gangway. I speak wit' th' gentlemen."

TBC…

Well, this was a lot of stuff to stomach. Like I already told you, I try to stay close to Peter's past written in "Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens", but also fill a few gapes Barrie never did. I also tried to capture the beauty and the almost magical atmosphere of the Gardens, mixed with Barrie's description and explanations concerning the fairies. If you're interested, just look up the web. There are plenty of photos, including the Italian Garden. And if you look at Wikip. you also can see a picture of Mab that was drawn by the artist I mentioned in this chapter. I hope, you liked it all.

Peter is really torn now. What shall he do? Staying in London with Hook and following his earlier statement in the original book and movie "To live would be an awful big adventure", or shall he return to Neverland? Please tell me your opinion.

In the next chapter Smee shows once again that he is more than the 'old babbling fool'. Furthermore Hook acts on his intention and seeks out the lady who belongs to Peter's family. And what she reveals will be not really a surprise for our captain, but for Peter it will be a shock.

I hope, you liked the new chapter and I'd be happy to get some feedback.

Have a nice rest of the weekend,

Love

Yours Lywhn / Starflight