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"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.

"Peter!"

Peter refused to look. He took Maggie in his arms and, with Jack and the Lost Boys crowding close, started to walk away.

"Peter!"

Hook was shrieking at him now, incensed beyond reason. He charged toward the quarterdeck stairs. "Peter, come back and fight me! You hear me. Where are you going? I haven't finished with you, Peter Pan! Is this the best you can offer? I am shocked and dismayed! Bad form!"

Maggie glanced back over Peter's shoulder. "You need a mommy very, very badly!" she yelled back at Hook.

The captain reached the quarterdeck stairs just as Smee emerged from his cabin, pants stuffed with Hook's treasure, a bulging bag slung over one shoulder. He was slinking toward the ship's lifeboat when Hook spotted him.

"Smee!" he howled.

Smee froze, eyes squinched shut.

"Stairs!" Hook bellowed.

Smee's eyes popped open again, a hint of relief showing in his crinkled features. He stamped the decking and the quarterdeck stairs flipped from bare wood to red carpeting. Hook started down without a word.

Smee tried a reassuring smile. "I was just… moving yer personals, Cap'n. Out of harm's way and all…"

Hook went past him as if he wasn't there, headed for the gangway. "You can't escape me, Peter!" he howled. His face was as scarlet as his coat. "I'll always be your worst nightmare come true! You'll never be rid of me! I vow to you, everywhere you look there will be daggers with notes bearing JAS. Hook! I'll hang them on the doors of your children's children's children's bedrooms for all eternity!" He kicked at the decking. "Do you hear me?"

Peter stopped then, turned, set Maggie down beside him, and walked back to the gangway. He stood looking up at the enraged Hook.

"What do you want, James Hook?" he asked softly.

Hook's face twisted. "I want you, Peter."

Peter recognized the truth then. Revenge against Peter Pan was all that mattered to Captain Hook. He was for the captain an obsession that would not pass until one or the other of them was dead. Hook meant what he said. There would be no peace for Peter or his family until this business was finished once and for all. Peter sighed. "You got me, old man."

On the main deck, Hook had discarded his captain's coat and ripped open his sash. He held his sword balanced and ready in his good hand. His claw gleamed wickedly.

Ace and Don't Ask started forward, their own weapons drawn, but Peter motioned them back.

"Put up your swords, boys," he ordered, and his eyes were grim. "It's Hook or me, this time."

Crocodile Clock

James Hook strode down the gangway of the Jolly Roger, sword in hand, his eyes bright and anxious. He grinned wolfishly. "Prepare to die, Peter Pan. It's the only adventure you have left."

They rushed each other and met in a clash of steel. At first Hook had the upper hand, driving Peter back across the wharf as Jack and Maggie and the Lost Boys scattered before them. Then Peter regained control, growing stronger with each exchange. Hook reversed field, drawing Peter after him into the tunnel.

"I remember you being a lot bigger," Peter offered, parrying a wicked slash to his head.

Hook grunted. "To a ten-year-old, I'm huge."

Peter grinned. "Good form, James."

"Don't patronize me, Peter."

They fought their way through the tunnel's darkness and out the other side. Pirates and Lost Boys ran to get out of their way, then followed in their wake like flood waters churning down a dry riverbed. They battled toward a pub entrance, where Peter snatched a tablecloth off a clothesline and taunted Hook as a matador might an enraged bull-

To one side, Jack discarded his Hook vest. Hook sneered.

"Rippingly good comeback, Peter," he offered between thrusts at the tablecloth. "Three days! Imagine. Share your secret with old Hook? Diet? Exercise? A woman? The right woman can do wonders for a man, restore his youth in moments."

They surged back and forth for a minute in front of the pub. Then the tablecloth seemed to fly up and when it came down again Peter was gone.

Hook stared about in bewilderment. Then he stalked into the pub. Onlookers crowded up to the windows and doors and peered inside.