But not without a little something to see to his future needs, of course.

He slipped the iron key he wore about his neck into the lock and released it, pushing open the door. A fierce scowl greeted the anxious faces of the slave kids clustered before him, sending the pack of them scurrying.

"Jack! Jack!" one little girl called wildly from the window.

"Slag off, ye little sodder!"he growled at her. "I'll be just long enough to claim my fair share and then-''

He stopped in his tracks. Another slave kid was in the process of throwing a rope braided from old curtains out the window. "Here! Where do you think you're going? Get away from that window!"

The slave kid raced for safety and the front room emptied as the bunch of them fled into the recesses of the back. Only the girl was left, still yelling for help. He snatched her up and dragged her away.

Peter flew in just behind him, landing in a skid, coming face-to-face with a second pirate who appeared at the same instant through another door. The second pirate gave Peter a single glance and dove back the way he had come.

Peter charged ahead into the second room. The jailer dropped Maggie like a sack of hot coals and whirled about.

Maggie's eyes went wide. "Daddy?"

Peter was after the jailer instantly, chasing him about a monstrous globe, giving it a spin as he passed. "Small world, isn't it?" he observed, tickling the fellow's breast bone with the tip of his sword.

The frantic jailer flattened himself protectively against a Greek statue, but Peter was behind him almost before he could think. A shove toppled the statue and pinned the hapless pirate to the floor.

Maggie wheeled into Peter's arms.

"Daddy!" she cried gleefully.

He picked her up and swung her about joyfully, then hugged her to him. "I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she murmured back.

"I'll never lose you again."

"Stamp me, mailman."

He kissed her on the forehead as Latchboy and half a dozen other Lost Boys rushed into the room.

Peter waved in greeting. "This is my daughter, Maggie," he announced, setting her down again.

"Hi," Maggie greeted.

"Hi," the Lost Boys greeted back, looking doubtful.

Peter was already moving toward the door. "You'll be safe with them until I get back, Maggie," he called over his shoulder. "I have to get Jack. Boys, guard her with your lives."

He gave them a hurried salute and rose into the air.

Latchboy and the others barely saw him leave, their eyes fixed on Maggie. Finally Latchboy whispered, "Are you really a girl?"

The Lost Boys were sweeping the decks of the Jolly Roger clean of the few pirates who remained, battening down the main hatch on those who had been captured, and chasing the rest down the gangplank and over the sides. Even Tickles was gone, relieved of his concertina and harried from the ship by Don't Ask. Thud Butt, tired of rolling down rampways, had secured his beloved Four-Way Stop. Working his way into the midst of one pirate melee after another with the bizarre weapon, he had fixed its sight, pulled its trigger, and released a foul-smelling liquid from its four directional tubes into the faces of bewildered pirates, leaving them stunned and gasping for air.

Inside Hook's cabin, Smee was busily gathering up the captain's most valuable treasures and stuffing them into his pants.

"What about Smee?" he said over and over. "It's time for Smee. Yes, it is."

A knot of pirates and Lost Boys burst through the cabin door, fighting as they came, tumbling the furniture and furnishings every which way. Smee shrank from them, hiding behind a Red Cross flag he had confiscated. When a pair of pirates came too close with their weapons, he dropped the flag over their heads, stealing a gold earring from one while doing so.

"Pretty, pretty," he murmured, testing the gold with his teeth as he moved toward the door, his pants and carry bag brimming with loot.

On reaching the far wall he paused at a statue of Hook, twisted the captain's nose, and popped open a peephole.

Can't be too careful, he thought.

Cautiously, he peered out.

Hook stood at the forefront of the quarterdeck, squared off once more with Rufio, his eyes red and dangerous. Jack was behind him, secured between Jukes and Noodler.

"Rufio, Rufio," Hook whispered, drawing the other on.

Rufio advanced, sword drawn, feinting as he came. "Looky, looky, I got Hooky," he whispered back.

Hook sneered. "Sadly, you have no future as a poet."

Peter was flying for all he was worth to reach them, but this time he was too slow. Hook and Rufio engaged, locking swords, fighting across the quarterdeck, lunge and parry, slash and block. Rufio lost his sword once, then got it back. Hook rang the ship's bell with a sweeping blow. It was an even battle between man and boy, pirate and youth, until the wily captain hooked away Rufio's sword with his claw and plunged his own blade deep into the other's body.

Rufio fell to the deck with a gasp just as Peter reached him. Peter knelt in disbelief, cradling the red-streaked head in his lap.

Jack freed himself from Jukes and Noodler and rushed forward to stand at Peter's shoulder. Rufio's eyes fixed on him. "Know… what I wish?" he whispered. His eyes shifted to Peter. "That I had… a dad like you."

And then, because even in Neverland things do not always end well, he died.

There was a momentary hush as Jack stared down at the fallen Rufio. He felt as if his stomach had been turned to stone. For despite being outwardly a replica of Hook, Jack was decidedly something else inside, where it matters. The thrill and excitement of being a pirate had long since disappeared. The anger and disappointment of being Peter Banning's son had evaporated. His dad had kept his promise this time; he had come for Jack and Maggie. And Jack's memory was stirred by the keeping of that promise-his memory of home and family, of quiet evenings playing board games at the kitchen table, of being read to and reading back in turn, of words of encouragement and wisdom offered when life got a little tough, of all the things that were good and true about his parents.

He turned to face Hook, and tears sprang to his eyes. His real dad would never kill anyone.

"He was only a boy like me, Captain," he said, his lower lip quivering. Then his jaw tightened with new determination. "Bad form, Captain James Hook!" he declared. "Bad form!"

Hook looked stricken.

Peter rose. He was starting toward Hook, the Pan sword lifting, when Jack called out. "Dad!"

Peter turned. Jack was shaking his head slowly.

"Just take me home, Dad. I just want to go home."

"But… but you are home!" Hook sputtered.

Peter stared at his son for a long moment, then bent to lift him in his arms. Jack removed his tricorne and tossed it at Hook disdainfully. Carrying his son, Peter Banning started to walk away.

Hook stared in disbelief. "Wait! Where are you going?" he demanded, his face crestfallen.

"Home," answered Peter quietly.

He rose from the ship and flew down to the wharf where the pirates were in full retreat and the Lost Boys in complete command. Shouts and cheers heralded his coming, and the Lost Boys thronged about him as he settled down with Jack at the bottom of the gangway. Maggie rushed out to greet him as well, and he clasped both children in his arms, smothering them with hugs and kisses. Jack squirmed free long enough to take off the Hook coat and fling it aside.

"Bangerang!" yelled the Lost Boys from all about. "Victory banquet! Victory banquet!"

Then Latchboy asked, "Where's Rufio?"

"Yeah, where's Rufio?" the others echoed.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Ace said quietly.

"Is Rufio dead forever?" Too Small whispered.

Peter tried to answer, but no words would come. Then abruptly Hook shouted down to him from the deck of the Jolly Roger.