"The kingdom of Quatar has to be the most boring place on the face of this earth," Suzannah decried as she looked out the window of the American embassy.

"It could be worse," her brother Michael (*Hint: Plays keyboards) joined her there. "We could be in Washington D.C."

"At least I could get a Wendy's hamburger there," Suzannah grumbled. "If I eat any more pita bread sandwiches and goat curd I'm going to machine gun all the goats in this country and have them shipped to Ethiopia."

"They'd eat the bullets," Michael drawled.

"I may be eating them soon. I can't stand any more of this. Besides, that Nana woman Mother has looking after us is either a CIA man in drag or the king's mother-in-law. Did you see my new blouse she insited on cleaning?"

"Did you see my Anthony Price dinner jacket? I can't imagine anybody being so stupid. I stopped her from cleaning my Nikon the other day just in time-- with Windex."

"Maybe we'd better go home and see if it's still there," Suzannah agreed. "Besides, it's getting late."

"Tell me some more stories about the Peter Pan fellow (*Hint: Plays bass)."

"Eeh, not tonight, it gets depressing," Suzannah demurred.

"Oh come on, Suzannah. There's nothing else to do and I'd like to think that this sand trap isn't the only thing I can expect after 14 years of living."

"Oh, all right," Suzannah gave in and sat next to her brother in her bedroom. "Let me think."

"I liked the one where Peter was flying through London and found these two women in that underground garage playing pat-a-cake while--"

"Yeah, yeah. I remember that one," Suzannah cut him off. "That was your idea. I didn't like that one very much. The ones in Sri Lanka were much better."

"So think of something else," Michael urged.

Suzannah tapped out her cigarette and concentrated.

"I don't know, Michael. I'm running out of ideas. I don't know what else I can do that doesn't sound like something that's already been done."

As she was speaking the bedroom door opened and Mrs. Celina Darling walked in.

"I'm going to the French Embassy. Don't stay up too late," she ordered as she came in to bid her children good night.

"Another party?" Michael looked over.

"Eh--" Celina waved a hand. "These are not parties, these are just political power struggles. Everyone there always wants to appear more than the next one and tries to do negotiations secret from the one who is the ally during the day and--"

"Nana nearly drowned your new African violets, Mom," Suzannah told her.

"Ah, that woman!" Celina slapped the dresser. "I tell her and I tell her to leave the plants alone because she doesn't understand the first thing about anything that grows and still she pulls out plants because she thinks they are weeds, and she never cleans the house she merely blesses it with her attention."

"Bye Mom," Michael addressed her and kissed her good night.

"Good night. I'm going to be late," she agreed. "I was going to leave earlier but there was a meeting with the Cuban ambassador and he never showed up. These Latins."

"Bye," Suzannah gave her Mom a hug and they watched her hurry out.

"Maybe you could think up a story where Peter Pan wreaks havoc on an Arab housemaid."

"Peter will have to wait in line," Sazannah replied, then fell to contemplation. A good while later Michael still looked at her inquiringly. "I've got writer's block, Michael."

"I'll get you some coffee," he suggested.

"No, I mean it's this place. I need some inspiration. This environment is getting me down."

"No more stories?" a voice asked.

"I didn't say that," Michael caught her look.

"No, I did," a tousled head appeared at the window.

"Holy--" Suzannah sprang up and nearly knocked Michael over as he too jumped up.

"You're not really going to stop thinking up stories, are you?"

"I'll tell you as soon as my heart comes back in my body," Suzannah promised.

Michael approached the window cautiously.

"You're not from the IRA, Nazi Party, Philangists or Red Brigade, are you?"

"Actually, I'm Peter Pan," Peter replied, "and I'd appreciate it if you took this screen off your window so I can come in. One of these days someone's going to blow my pants off as I float around out here."

"If you're Peter Pan, what did you do when you went to Antigua?" Michael folded his arms.

"I got chased by a bunch of zombies and the daylight kept changing on me all the time."

"You really are floating," Suzannah looked out the window with Scorpio caution.

"If you give me a chance, I'll make you float too," he smiled at her.

"Let him in, Michael," Suzannah decided.

A torn window screen later, Peter stepped in.

"Great, my window's all bent up," Suzannah regarded the screen dourly. "I'll probably have giant horseflies pooing on me."

"Tell your mother the maid did it. Who's going to doubt that?" Peter shrugged. "Sorry, we haven't been introduced. I'm Peter Pan," he took Suzannah's hand and kissed it politely.

"I'm Suzannah Darling," Suzannah replied.

"And this is my brother," Suzannah pointed out. "Michael Darling," Michael extented a hand.

Peter looked at him. "How's it going Mikey?" Peter slapped him on the back and turned back to Suzannah.

"How long were you there?" Suzannah indicated the window.

"Oh, I come by every night. You've given me some great ideas. I've written down every one of them. For instance," he pulled a notebook from the back pocket of his leather jeans and looked throught it. ",the revolution in France was a good one. Then there was the one in the Australian desert-- I don't think that was one of your better ones."

"You write these down?"

"Sure. I've got a band of girls that live with me in Always-Always and they want to hear stories about me. So when you started making these up, I couldn't pass it by."

"The Lost Girls? Well, they're orphans actually, from home and country. It's an international thing. They give up their wallets and wall space to me and my endeavors in Always-Always Land. They all live in my beach house there."

"You have a beach house? Suzannah inquired.

"Well, not just any old beach house," Peter tried to keep up appearances. "And I've got an Aston Martin too, and gull wing Mercedes and --"

"Can we go see it? It sounds great," Michael interrupted.

"Suzannah is welcome," Peter smiled at her.

"Hey, I'm not going without my brother," Suzannah told him.

"Ok, ok," Peter shrugged.

"Good," Suzannah nodded with satisfaction. "Actually, I've made something I thought you might like to have," Suzannah went to a notebook on her dresser and pulled out a drawing of him.

"That's not bad," Peter regarded it. "Well, I've got something for you too," he decided and reached inside his suede jacket.

"A Peter Pan button. How nice," Suzannah looked at it dryly.

"Here," Peter leaned forward and pinned it on her jacket.

"But how are we going to get to Always-Always Land?" Michael asked. "This compound is pretty well guarded at night and they won't let us out."

In response to his question there was a loud bump as a figure fell in the window.

"Tinkerbell, did you hurt yourself?" Peter hurried to the figure in concern.

"No, I'm ok," the pixie sat up, rubbing her head a bit sheepishly.

"What happened? Did you fly into the wall again?"

"No, actually I got the wrong house, and then I didn't notice the screen was off."

"Uhm-- Suzannah, Mikey this is my special fairy and assistant, Tinkerbell."

"Hello Suzannah," Tinkerbell extended a hand.

"Michael," Michael corrected darkly as he also shook Tinkerbell's hand.

"Tinkerbell here has the answer to our travelling needs," Peter explained.

"Oh, you want to fly?" she looked at the siblings inquiringly. "Sure, sure," she began to dig in her outfit's pockets.

"Did you really pay $96 for those pants?" Suzannah noted the price tag dangling from them.

"Oh no," Tinkerbell laughed. "They were on sale for $20. I just wanted to keep the Beverly Hills tag on them."

"Are these it?" Peter pointed.

"Oh no, that's something else. Wait, here they are."

"What is this?" Michael looked at the pills suspiciously.

"They're vitamins. They're very good for you. Take some. You know, you really should put on some weight. You're looking too thin. Are you eating well?" she inquired solicitously.

"The vitamins will make us fly?" Suzannah smelled the pill.

"Oh yes, you see what happens when you take them is--"

"That's alright, Bell," Peter cut her off. "Just as long as you're sure they're the right ones."

Michael and Suzannah looked at each other after taking the pill.

"I don't feel any different," Michael voiced hesitantly.

"This isn't cocaine, Michael," Suzannah told him. "Not, of course, that he's taken it," she explained quickly.

"Of course," Peter nodded.

"Try jumping off your bed," Tinkerbell suggested.

The two climbed on Suzannah's bed and jumped. Both promptly fell, Suzannah in Peter's arms and Michael on the floor.

"It didn't work," she complained.

"Oh, I forgot to add," Peter apologized. "You've got to think good positive thoughts. The vitamins need something to work with."

"Thoughts like what?" Suzannah stepped back from him as Michael picked himself up off the floor.

"I think about my weekends," Tinkerbell volunteered, then shrugged and waved a hand as she giggled.

"What do you think about?" Suzannah inquired of Peter.

"Flying home," he replied after a beat.

She looked at him and climbed back on the bed. Michael decided to watch her this time around.

"It works, it works!" Suzannah crowed gleefully as she found herself soaring towards the ceiling.

"You've got it," Peter agreed and floated up to join her.

"Are you going to try it?" Tinkerbell asked Michael.

"Are you going to catch me if I fall?" he asked in reply.

"I can try," Tinkerbell ventured.

Michael glanced up at his spinning siter and decided to brave another jump. This time he too began to glide across the room.

"If you can fly in your room you can fly anywhere. Try it," Peter waited for her. Assuming a husky voice he added, "If you're good, I'll buy you an ice cream little girl."

"Any flavor I want?"

Suzannah decided that departing the window quickly was the best way and found herself up above the trees.

"This way," Peter called as they left the compound behind.

"Are we going to keep flying this fast?" Michael called as they sped over the city.

"Why, can't you keep up?" Peter called back.

"Yes, but it's messing up my hair!"

Suzannah enjoyed the trip to Always-Always immensely. "Isn't that Paris down there?"

"Yes, that's the Arc de Triomphe."

"Oh, we've got to stop. I want to take some pictures and --"

"Another time, Suzannah, You don't have your camera, it's dark and we've still got a ways farther to go."

"Oh, but I want some real croissants," Suzannah complained.

"Yves St. Laurent is having an exhibition here soon, isn't he?" Michael chimed in.

These delays aside they arrived in Always-Always land only a bit weary.

"What's that?" Suzannah pointed down at the ocean to a large luxury yacht.

"Er-- that is Capt. Herman's ship. Captain Minda "Hooker" Herman."

"Hooker Herman?" Suzannah looked at him curiously.

"Miss Minda Faye is a lovely woman but she and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things."

"Like what?" Suzannah wondered.

"Capt. Herman keeps a pleasure yacht. She has for years now, following in the footsteps of her grandmother, continuing the practice of kidnapping young men from the island and having them serve aboard her boat."

"Do they ever come back?"

"Sooner or later. She gets tired of them eventually."

"That's terrible," Suzannah declared.

"It certainly is. She never wanted me on board."

They were interrupted by the sound of an explosion.

"What's that?" Suzannah grabbed his arm.

"She's firing at us. Quick Bell, take them to the beach house. I'll stay and draw her fire."

"Hurry," Tinkerbell grabbed Suzannah's elbow and they all sped away after her.

"There he is," Capt. Herman called on her ship as her crew reealigned the bazooka's sights and inserted the new heat sensing shells.

"He's coming lower," her first mate and cabin boy, Simon, called.

"Well then fire it, Simon," Minda looked at him.

"Fire!" Simon called.

Peter dove lower and shot towards the water as the bazooka fired. The shell trailed him quickly until he dove into the water and sped forward under its surface. He then shot out of the water and dived in again on the opposite side of the boat before the crew could realign the sights.

"Damn, the little twit got away again," Minda walked over to the opposite side of the boat where Peter had gone in. "And as for you, Simon, we've got to talk."

"There's the beach house, right there," Tinkerbell pointed as they all came down.

"I want to wait for Peter," Suzannah declared.

"Oh, it's not safe Suzannah," Tinkerbell warned her.

"I'll just wait outside, I want to be able to see him coming."

"Ok, but don't go anywhere," Tinkerbell nodded as she led Michael indoors.

"Where's Peter?" a girl ran up to her immedeately.

"He's back near Capt. Herman's ship. She started shooting at us when we were arriving. This is Michael. He and his sister Suzannah have come to stay with us," Tinkerbell introduced.

"Who's Suzannah?" another girl asked.

"Oh, she's the one who's been writing all the stories about Peter. She's really good at them. Peter likes her a lot and he wanted to bring her here to see if she could come up with any more," Tinkerbell explained.

Michael looked around at all the gathering girls, none of whom looked over the age of 16. The walls seemed to be of various posters of Peter, some autographed, some with love notes on them.

"She's really very smart and very creative," Tinkerbell continued. "A very nice, very pretty girl."

The crowd now numbered at least 25. Several girls began looking at one another.

"Where is she?" one asked.

"She's outside" Tinkerbell pointed at Suzannah's floating figure.

"Let's shoot her down," one girl suggested.

"Let's use Peter's telescope gun," another joined in.

"What? What are they going to do?" Michael looked alarmed.

"Oh dear, no, no, wait a minute!" Tinkerbell followed the girls outside.

On the balcony was a telescope. One of the girls dropped a coin in it and Michael heard whirring sounds.

"What is that?"

"Peter, well, when your sister Suzannah made up the story about him on the Eiffel tower he liked it so much he had this made. No, no Stop!" she called as she pulled a few girls away from the balcony's edge.

Michael heard the sound of shots issue from the telescope. Suzannah did also and felt something hit her with great force in the chest. Dizzy, she started to fall.

"Oh no!" Tinkerbell cried. Before Suzannah hit the water however a near blur snatched her up and brought her to the beach house.

"Suzannah, are you alright?" Michael came over to her. She was trying to gather her senses together.

"Someone shot me," she explained with confusion.

Peter looked down at her jacket at the twisted and bent button with a BB pellet in it.

"It was this. The button saved your life."

"Oh," Suzannah looked down a bit dazedly.

"I don't want any more of this going on, you hear me?" Peter looked at the girls stormily. "If anyone wants to leave here they can go now. I brought Suzannah here and she's going to stay." Peter led Suzannah inside and then came back out. "And I want everyone to get their stuffed animals off my bed! Suzannah needs somewhere to lay down and rest."

"Oh, I'll do it, Peter," Tinkerbell offered. "She may be in a little bit of a shock too."

"Ok, let's see what we can do Bell," Peter opened the door to his bedroom. "Uh--Mikey, the place is yours. Get acquainted with the girls or something."

As the door closed behind him, Michael looked around at the many faces. A few girls came forward.

"What's your name?" one asked.

"Michael," he looked around him again.

"You know, you look a lot like Peter. Don't you think he does?" the first girl asked another.

"Yeah, you know, you're pretty cute…"

Simon re-appeared at the door of Minda's cabin. "Capt. Herman?"

"What is it now, Simon," Minda looked up from her astrology computer.

"The supplies from the ship are almost out."

"The Indians won't trade with us anymore, at least, not since you started capturing their braves."

"Hmm, yes," Minda smiled smugly to herself, "and such lovely braves they were. Well, we can't have that." She looked meditative.

"Should we go steal the supplies?" Simon ventured.

"Steal?" Minda considered this. "Yes, we could steal them, but then we'd have the same problems over and over again. I think we need to convince Chief Lumpy Detergent that he'll have to keep on trading with us."

"How can we do that?" Simon stood at the door.

"He has a daughter, doesn't he?" Minda looked up at him slyly.

"Princess Babbling Brook," Simon agreed.

"Well, if we keep their princess here, I'm sure the Chief will trade with us, don't you, Simon?"

"How are going to get her?"

"Oh, I don't know," Minda turned back to the computer. "I'm sure you can think of something."

Simon looked at her and smiled to himself a bit before leaving.

"Yes, I'm sure I can."

"Feeling better?" Peter inquired as he, Suzannah and Tinkerbell left the kitchen where Tinkerbell had served Suzannah some homemade turkey soup.

"Much. That soup was delicious."

"Oh good," Tinkerbell nodded gladly. "Actually, it was made of most of the leftover salad," she confessed with a slight face.

"It was great," Suzannah nodded. "Where are we going?" she looked up at Peter.

"I thought I'd show you around the island a bit. See if we can't reactivate your creativity," he smiled generously at her. "Tinkerbell, you can keep an eye on Mikey, can't you?"

"Oh sure," she nodded. "Maybe I'll take him around too."

Peter stopped as he and Suzannah were in the doorway.

"Sure, just as long as you don't take him down by the lagoon."

"So Michael, where would you like to go?" Tinkerbell came into the living room where he was surrounded by the Lost Girls.

"Aehm-- I don't really know," Michael admitted.

"Tinkerbell, we really need to go to the store," one of the girls spoke up.

"But I thought we went just a few days ago."

"Oh, we did but we didn't have all the lists made up," the girl answered. "We need some more things," she handed Tinkerbell a list.

"Bubble bath, champagne, strawberries…" Tinkerbell began to read.

"Could you get those for us Tinkerbell? Because you can fly you can get there so much faster than us. Besides, Michael's favorite fruit is strawberries and we're almost out."

"Did you want to go to the store with me?" Tinkerbell offered.

"Uhm--no, I think we're going to show Michael around a little. Maybe go shell hunting on the beach."

"That sounds like fun," Tinkerbell nodded. "Ok, I'll go to the store and you keep him busy."

As Tinkerbell left and then returned to make sure the answering machine was on, Michael leaned over and murmured to one of the girls, "But I thought I saw six bottles of champagne in the refrigerator."

"Oh, she never remembers what's already in the house. Besides, you could hide anything in that fridge."

Princess Babbling Brook wandered through the Indian compound in search of food. Once again, the princess had forgotten her lunch and rather than go all the way home for it, was hoping that one of her fellow capitalistic tribesmembers had set up a sandwich booth in the orchard. Such was not appearing the case and she was ready to head home after all when she saw two braves and a handsome young blond carrying a guitar, walking towards her. Never having seen the stranger before, she paused and waited for their approach as he seemed intent of hailing her. As he got closer he began to strum the guitar and sing.

"Pretty looking road I tried to hold the rising flood that fills my skin. Don't ask me why I'll keep my promise melt the ice…"

The Princess looked uncomfortable, wondering whether she should clap, or particularly, if a donation was expected.

"Princess Babbling Brook, I presume," the stranger addressed her.

"Do I know you?" she was sure she didn't.

"Perhaps you do," he intonated in a voice that seemed to be whispering when it wasn't.

"What do you mean?" the Princess readjusted her skirt, which was crooked.

"I mean I'd like to get to know you Princess. Very well." The blond stepped up to her and gazed down at her with bright blue eyes.

Finding herself at a loss in this situation she looked at his guitar.

"I'd never heard that song you were singing, before. What was it?"

"I wrote it. Do you like it?"

"Well, I didn't hear very much of it," the Princess admitted.

"I'd love to sing it for you," Simon played a chord.

"I'm sure you would--" the Princess began.

"Pardon?" Simon leaned forward attentively.

"I said, I'm sure that would be wonderful, but I'm on my lunch hour and I really don't have much time. Do you--uh--live around here?"

"In a manner of speaking I do. Would you like to see my home?"

The Princess looked at the braves in annoyance. "Are these friends of yours?" she inquired. Then looking closer at one she added "Hey, aren't you one of the braves kidnapped last month?"

"Damn," Simon muttered in irritation as he realized his songs would go unheard. "Come with me, Princess. Don't struggle and you'll make things easier for everyone," he warned as the two braves snatched her up and began to carry her bodily out of the orchard.

"Where are we going? Who -- is this Capt. Herman's doing?" the Princess demanded.

"Actually, it's mine," Simon responded soothingly. "And I look forward to serenading you."

"Peter, why did you bring that sax along?" Suzannah asked as they strolled across the island.

"Oh, I thought it would be a nice touch."

"A nice touch to what?" Suzannah looked down at the instrument.

"To this," Peter swept a hand out as they came to the lush edge of a waterfall and peaceful lagoon reflecting blues, greens and the shimmering gold of filtered sunlight. The water seemed almost violet with tranquility.

"This is beautiful!" Suzannah gazed at it with awe and then delight. "You're so lucky to live here!"

"It is nice. I always like to come back here. But I get restless," Peter tool her hand and led the way down some rocks to the lagoon's edge.

"It's the Gemini in you," Suzannah assured him.

"I think there has to be a bit of the Gemini in everyone or else they become very boring people," Peter grinned at her sideways.

"Do you feel happy here?" Suzannah inquired.

"I can be happy anywhere, with the right people around." Peter stepped away from her.

"Are you going to play?" she asked as he brought the sax to his lips.

"No, actually I'm just going to air play it," he admitted. "I've been told I look good while doing it."

Suzannah had to admit he certainly did but she couldn't help thinking that live music would be a good touch more exciting.

"Who is it that told you you looked good like that?" she asked him.

Peter stopped miming and looked over at her.

"You're not jealous now, are you?"

"Of course not," Suzannah replied as thoughts of shredding hair came to mind. "I just wondered who it was."

"One of the Lost Girls," Peter replied as he walked over to her. "Many of them actually."

"Don't you ever get tired of having so many women?" Suzannah looked up as his lower lip.

Peter shrugged. "Sometimes. Sometimes it really depresses me." Pausing he made a slightly silly face. "And then again, some of us are just born to it. It's just --"

"The Gemini in you," Suzannah completed.

"Hey, that's why you love us, baby," Peter grinned and held Suzannah close. As he was giving her an exploratory introduction to his lower lip and many teeth, an unfortunate interruption occured.

"Ahem, harumph," came from behind Peter.

"Who-- what are you doing here?" Peter turned around quickly.

"I'm trying to deliver a message. You're a damn hard man to find, Peter."

Suzannah looked at the smallish fellow in the oriental t-shirt, leather pants and Army boots. A strange combination. Of course, the giant wings strapped on his back didn't add much to the picture.

"Look, this message can wait, can't it?"

"It's about your deal with the Crock. He's studied your proposition and he's written you a message about it and also wants to let you know that he's been checking out Capt. Hooker -- er -- Herman himself and that he'll be--"

"Look, Andy," Peter faced him and waved a thumb to indicate Suzannah. "I'm sure my assistant, Tinkerbell, will be better at handling this right now than I will. How about going to my beach house and laying this stuff on her. She'll be able to keep you informed and go over what he's written and then give you any feedback I may have on it."

Andy did not look pleased.

"Look Peter," he began.

"Give my regards to your wife," Peter emphasized.

"Yeah, sure," Andy waved a hand as he walked off. "I sometimes think if I farted around all day I'd get more done. This piss- shit job is starting to give me a real case of stinking hemmorhoids or something. I'd rather be home painting my kitchen or sleeping." With several flaps of his wings and a running start Andy flew upwards.

"Now," Peter turned back to Suzannah and ran a finger around her ear. "Where were we?"

"Dragging me through this jungle, I tell you. I don't know what you think my father's going to do about all this. Of course we're not going to trade with Capt. Herman after she goes about kidnapping whomever she pleases. I mean, this whole thing is just plain stupid. Let me down! I tell you, I can walk for myself and this is getting real uncomfortable…"

"What's going on?" Suzannah looked around Peter as four figures appeared at the opposite end of the lagoon.

"I should have known. I'd recognize that nasal whine anywhere," Peter broke off. "It's Princess Babbling Brook."

"Peter?" the Princess recognized him.

Her three captors did also and it seemed both parties were rather dismayed to find themselves at odds without weapons. "What's the problem?" Peter called out.

"This jerk is kidnapping me!" the Princess yelled hoarsely.

"Come on, Simon," Peter called out. "Let Babble go. She's hardly worth your trouble."

Suzannah thought to herself that the Princess took this rather lightly. But then again, she seemed to most undignified and unceremonious princess Suzannah could imagine.

"Stay out of this, Peter. Capt. Herman's got enough on you already."

"Who's to say I haven't got something on her!" Peter called back.

"Peter, will you come over here instead of having this shouting match across the lagoon?" the Princess interrupted both.

"Be back in a minute," Peter brushed Suzannah's arm and glid across the water. The two braves readied to meet him. From his advantage of being in the air, it was fairly easy for even Peter to pummel one into the ground.

"Rather a bit unfair, what you're doing, isn't it?" Simon asked as he put a hand mildly to the Princess's throat. Peter landed cautiously.

"How about letting her go and we'll get all this over with."

"I was rather more interested in what you had planned for Minda," Simon changed the subject.

"Minda," Peter repeated coyly. "We're getting a bit familiar here, aren't we?"

"I'm a little more familiar with her than you are," Simon reminded him. The Princess thought Peter looked a bit sour.

"Minda may be smart, but she doesn't know everything that goes on on the island," Peter smiled to himself. "She isn't God you know."

"Peter…" the princess said a bit urgently.

"Suppose we duel, Simon," Peter suggested.

"The guitar," Peter pointed out.

"The guitar?" Simon looked a bit amazed. So did the Princess.

"Whoever best plays the guitar, wins," Peter baited him. "Come on, Simon, a bard like you can't just give up, can he?"

Simon glared at him but the alternative seemed to be simply handing the Princess over. He thrust her at the remaining brave and readied the guitar.

Suzannah watched the proceedings from the opposite end of the lagoon a little fuzzily. She was already walking around the water's edge to the other side and it wasn't ver far away, but it still seemed to her that Simon kept playing the same chords over and over as he sang some ballad somewhat off key. When the guitar was passed on to Peter the possibility of a new classic emerging from the afternoon's session seemed dim. Peter played with enthusiasim but obvious difficulty. Quality might be in demand but he obviously had greater range and even the brave who was returning to consciousness could tell that Peter was the victor of the match.

"Take her," Simon pushed the Princess over at Peter. Peter took her arm and drew her closer to him as they backed away. "Don't think Minda's forgetting about you though," Simon added as the two groups moved in opposite directions.

"I'm sure she won't," Peter acknowledged. "But you can tell her that she'd better start watching her tail too."

"Along with everyone else," a brave spoke up. Everyone looked at him. He shut up.

"Actually, I'm into higher things, myself," Peter quipped as he and the Princess reached Suzannah.

"And I know you're still pissed because she didn't bring you aboard herself!" Simon called back to him as he and his companions vanished in the foliage.

Peter was spared a reply when Suzannah asked "Who was that?"

"Suzannah, this is Princess Babbling Brook. Babble, this is Suzannah, a new friend I picked up in Quatar."

"Good grief, getting a bit broad in your tastes, aren't you flyboy?" the princess looked amused. "Nice to meet you, Suzannah. Exposed to the fatal charm, I see."

"Actually Peter brought me here to get some story ideas for him. He's been using my work," Suzannah explained, a bit emphatically.

"Oh, are you the storyteller then?" the pseudo-monarch brushed herself off and wondered to herself how won-ton sauce had ended up on her hose. "Mr. Pan here told me about you a while back."

"Do you know each other well?" Suzannah wondered.

"Not really," the Princess looked up at Peter. "But I have a passing acquaintance with most people on the island because of who my father is."

"Who is your father?" Suzannah mentioned the point.

"Chief Lumpy Detergent," the Princess and Peter chorused.

Tinkerbell had meant to go to the store, but she couldn't help stopping at the waterfall halfway there to see the new flowers growing. She was making plans to buy some film when Simon spotted a way to improve his day's work. Leaving the braves in hiding, he moved noiselessly up behind her as she examined some rocks for signs of quartz or feldspar.

"Miss Tinkerbell, I think Capt. Herman would like a few words with you," he told her as he grabbed her tightly and she dropped the rock in surprise.

"Mmmm-pphm--fflp--mmprit," Tinkerbell replied.

"Ungagged, of course," Simon added as he hauled her up under one arm and started his lengthy walk back to the waiting yacht.

Andy arrived dutifully at the beach house to look up Peter's assistant, thinking to himself that even being on the go all the time didn't make up for some other aspects of the job. Still, his work could frequently be interesting and he did meet a lot of people.

He soon realized both could also be vividly combined. Getting no response to his knocks he decided to see if the balcony door was open. The laughter and noises he heard from within dimmed a bit as he walked into the living room. The first thing he noticed was the pack of young nubiles running about, spraying fluorescent paint on eachother in various states of near to total undress. The other thing he soon noticed was that the largest crowd of girls was around the low slung sofa in the middle of the room. At least a dozen eyes peered at him, some in curiosity, some in puzzlement. One pair of eyes undoubtedly held both shock and panic. But then again, Andy considered, being around 14, stark naked in the midst of too many young girls, being hand fed strawberries, and sipping champagne from fingers rather than glasses, all while being given a bubble bath was a rather disconcerting position to be found in.

"I was looking for Tinkerbell?" Andy explained himself.

"Aehm--" Michael was going to find doing the same far more difficult.

"So, your father is in charge of all trade on the island?" Suzannah clarified as the three continued their trek back to the Indian compound in the island's valley.

"Not all trade, but we do control most of the island's commercial aspects."

"What's your father like?" Suzannah continued.

"You'll meet him for yourself. I understand Peter has something to discuss with him," the Princess glanced towards the angular and currently pensive male amongst them.

"Yes, I do. I haven't seen Chief Lumpy in a while. He doesn't like me, does he Babble?"

"I don't know that he likes anyone unless he's making a good bit of money off them. If you work for him for free, he'll adore you."

"My goodness!" Suzannah exclaimed. The mirrored, shiny stretch of buildings she beheld was not what she had imagined of the headquarters.

"Wait until you see the inside," Peter grinned.

"You gotten a lot of squaws from here?" the princess cocked an eye at him.

"White boy have real forked tongue," Peter sauntered by her innocently.

"That doesn't look like Princess Babbling Brook to me, Simon," Minda regarded Simon from under quirked brows and folded arms.

"You should be glad it doesn't," Simon retorted. "I can see where she got her name from. I think Miss Tinkerbell could be helpful to you in more ways. Apparently Peter has something planned for you."

"Oh does he?" Minda asked the question of both her first mate and her prisonner as she walked around Tinkerbell's chair. "Tell me, Tinkerbell, what does Peter have in mind?"

Tinkerbell looked a little uncomfortable as she looked up at the two pirates, but otherwise just cleared her throat delicately and did not reply.

"Now, now, we're not savages around here," Minda said in her smooth voice. "Are we, Simon?" she looked up at him casually. Simon gave her a rather unfathomable look and Minda amended, "Well, not really anyhow," as she strolled to her desk and sat down behind it.

"Are you hungry, Tinkerbell?" Tinkerbell shook her head silently.

"Simon, why don't you get her something to eat. Do you eat meat?" Minda inquired.

"No pork," Tinkerbell replied.

"That's probably good, since we'd have to wait for them to kill the pig," Minda shook her head disapprovingly. "I seem to be having a rash of vegetarianism going around among my crew," she explained the question. "Me, I like beef," she asserted, then giggled to herself. "All kinds."

As Simon walked out with a backward glance at her, Minda looked at Tinkerbell pleasantly once again.

"Now then," she batted her eyes and smiled, "there are a few things I want to know, Tinkerbell. First of all, just where is Peter's beach house? I understand he lives on the beach somewhere."

Tinkerbell fixed her eyes on the floor.

"Oh come on. I do know he lives on the water. It's just a matter of time before I find the house. After all the island's only so big," Minda explained reasonably.

There was a lot of silence before Simon returned with some Chineese buns and chocolate covered doughnuts. Tinkerbell's eyes looked interested but she shook her head politely as Simon offered the platter to her.

He looked over at Minda.

Minda sighed & shrugged her shoulders. "It looks like we're going to have to get serious here." She got up and walked over to Tinkerbell's chair once again. "If you won't tell us anything Tinkerbell, we're going to have to get you where it hurts."

Tinkerbell looked up at Simon fearfully.

"You like that stereo in your Fiero, don't you?" Minda said ominously.

"Not my stereo!" Tinkerbell gasped.

Minda smiled up at Simon in triumph. "Yes, your stereo," she repeated smugly. "It's not much fun to go driving without it, is it?" Minda smiled and batted her eyes again.

"Nooo," Tinkerbell agreed worriedly.

"Simon just might go over to Peter's house and tear that stereo out, you know. He likes to do that sort of thing."

Tinkerbell looked up at Simon, who looked back at her with deep silence.

"Not my stereo," Tinkerbell repeated plaintively.

"I don't know," Minda straightened and took a deep breath. "You haven't been very helpful."

"Oh, I'll tell you anything you want to know-- anything I know," Tinkerbell assured her.

"Well, for one, I'd like to know where Peter lives. And two, I'd like to know why it is he thinks I have to watch my tail," Minda repeated interrogatively.

"May I have a chocolate donut?" Tinkerbell asked Simon.

"Anything you like," Minda smiled at her again.

Chief Lumpy was in a meeting, so the three waited outside his office.

"Who was it that kidnapped me?" Brook nagged Peter.

"Really, who was that--er-- unmasked man?" Suzannah agreed.

"Simon? Oh, we've run into eachother before. I'm surprised you hadn't run into him yourself, Babble." Peter noted. "He does a lot of Minda's more public work. We're not exactly good buddies," he added dryly.

"He's pretty sexy," Suzannah noted.

Peter looked at her, a little annoyed.

"He's pretty chunky too. He gets to be a real tub of lard sometimes," he said tersely.

The Princess regarded Peter's lank frame and said nothing.

"Well, he looked pretty good today," Suzannah decided.

"For a kidnapping friend," the Princess said grumpily.

At this moment several chiefs exited the office and Princess Babbling Brook and her two companions were called in. "Hi Dad," she greeted him with a hug.

"Good afternoon, Chief Lumpy," Peter acknowledged easily. "I brought your daughter back to you."

"Capt. Herman had me kidnapped earlier today," Babbling Brook explained.

"What??" the Chief looked at her.

"That's right, happened in the orchard."

"What were you doing in the orchard?" the Chief demanded.

"I forgot my lunch again," the Princess explained sheepishly.

"Eh-- every day you do that," the Chief shook his head. "What happened?"

The Princess told him and the Chief looked angry.

"This is not going to happen again. Someone has to stop this woman."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Chief Lumpy," Peter seated himself. "Minda and I have been on opposite sides of the fence for a while, but I don't have the manpower to do much about her. I've got a bunch of girls living with me I've got to protect. But now it's looking like no one's going to be safe. I mean, if she can just send people here into your compound…" Peter spread his hands emphatically.

"What are you going to do?" the Chief asked cautiously.

"I've taken some steps to get rid of Minda permanently," Peter explained. "There's a fellow called The Crock who's been pretty successful at getting women to change their ways."

"I wonder if he can do the same thing for men," Babbling Brook commented dourly.

Peter looked at her in some irritation and continued "Anyhow, Crock is pretty interested in the case, or at least that's how it seemed when I made my proposal to him. I understand he's retiring and I want him to take this on before he does."

"What exactly does he do?" Babbling Brook leaned forward.

"Beats me," Peter shrugged. "But whatever he does, it works." Peter sat back. "So what do you think, Chief? You provide some men for a raid on Minda's ship and I'll get Crock to work with us. Andy, the Island Courier came back to me with a reply today. I sent him on to my assistant Tinkerbell, but I'm sure it's a positive response."

"What are you going to do?" the Chief demanded.

"I'll be in on the battle too, of course. Moreover I'll keep Babbling Brook," he nodded towards her," at my beach house where she'll be safe. Minda's been unable to find it so far. I'd pitch the Lost Girls into this but I doubt they'd be much help."

"They are only good for other things, huh Peter?" Suzannah needled him.

Peter was spared a reply as Chief Lumpy was paged by his secretary. "Chief Lumpy, there's an Andy from Island Courier Service here to see Peter Pan."

"That's probably about Crock," Peter nodded with satisfaction.

"Let him in," the Chief said reluctantly. Andy burst in the door.

"Hi there Chief," he acknowledged briefly. "Hey Babble."

"Peter, Tinkerbell's gone," Andy announced.

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" Peter got up in concern.

"Just what I said, she's disappeared," Andy repeated. "I went to your house, right?"

"Yeah," Peter prompted him.

"And she wasn't there. No one had seen her for hours. They're all out looking for her now."

Peter whirled towards the Chief in alarm.

"Tinkerbell's never that late. She's perhaps a few minutes behind but she never just vanishes."

"Do you think Minda has her?" Suzannah chimed in. Peter looked at Andy.

"Could be. She's been missing a long time."

"Michael--" Suzannah suddenly thought. "Was my brother Michael there?" she asked Andy hurriedly.

Andy gave her a funny look. "Oh yeah, he was there. He's out looking for her now too,"

"We've got to do something," Peter leaned across Chief Lumpy's desk. "Now. This can't wait anymore."

"You're right," the Chief agreed.

Peter looked back at Andy. "And let's find out what the Crock had to say."

"Is that it?" Minda pointed out the house to Tinkerbell.

Tinkerbell just nodded, a bit ashamed of herself.

"Well, don't feel bad. I would have found it sooner or later. But I like sooner better," Minda stated.

"The men are ready," Simon told his captain.

"Don't have them do anything yet," Minda halted him. "I want to check out this situation first myself."

"It could be dangerous." Simon warned her. Minda stared him down.

"Simon, really. Me get into something dangerous?" she smiled to herself as she got ready to debark the speedboat at the landing point. "Of course I will. And I like it that way."

"At least you can let me go along with you," Simon said disapprovingly.

"Come along, Simon. I wouldn't deprive you of your fun either," Minda slid off the boat and climbed up the rocks towards the house.

Simon followed her as they both entered through the sliding glass doors, swords drawn. Minda frowned at the silence in the house. She looked back at Simon. Simon remained cautious and crept in before her, scouring the rooms for any sign of someone hiding.

"It doesn't look as if anyone's here," Minda stood in the living room, and hand on her hip. "But they've been here," she looked downwards noticing a tube on the floor. "What is all this stuff-- champagne, scented oils, strawberries--"

"What do you want to do?" Simon asked her from the kitchen.

Minda made herself comfortable on the sofa.

"Wait, I guess. Besides," she squinted slightly as she looked around and smiled. "I think I'm going to learn a few things about Peter from all this." She picked up a teapot from the floor and smiled broadly at her cabin boy.

"I don't want to get left out of all this!" Princess Babbling Brook fussed as she, Suzannah and Andy made their way back to the beach house. "Why couldn't we go along?"

"I want to know what's going to happen," Suzannah agreed, "I mean, if anything happens to Peter or Tinkerbell and her vitamins are gone for good how are Michael and I going to get back? I wish I hadn't come here, everything is going wrong," Suzannah fretted. "I'll probably get back and find that my brother's been eaten by werewolves or something…"

"We don't have werewolves here," Andy assured her "but we do have--"

"I don't want to know," Suzannah cut him off. "Me and my big mouth. Now we've got pirates fighting and people disappearing and kidnaps and probably mass killings tonight--"

"Bloody hell girl, calm down!" Andy told her. "It's all going to turn out a'right, if you'll just gi'it a chance. I can't stand all this complaining. I mean, I'm not even supposed to be doing all this."

"Are you married Andy?" the Princess asked him. "I remember hearing that."

"I've got a baby boy, too," Andy volunteered.

"How old?" the Princess continued.

"Too bad," the princess murmured.

Andy looked at her distractedly, "Too bad, why?"

"Because I think you're cute," the Princess looked straight ahead.

Andy looked at her before grinning suddenly. "You think I'm cute?"

"Yes, I do. Don't let it go to your head," the Princess was forced to smile back.

"That's no' bad," Andy decided ribbingly," coming from a princess."

Suzannah was not distracted by the little byplay, but instead continued worrying. Things were just not going well. When they arrived she was going to get Michael and they were going to get out of here. Enough was enough.

"I'll have to tell my wife somebody thinks I'm cute. A princess at that," Andy quipped smugly.

"I'm starting to see why she doesn't tell you that herself," Babbling Brook noted dryly.

"Who says she doesn't?" Andy needled her back. She laughed.

Suzannah ignored this and walked up to the front door. Perhaps Tinkerbell had been found and they could be guided home.

"Seems awful quiet, doesn't it?" Babbling Brook noted as they opened the door. "I thought he had a whole harem living with him."

"He does," Andy assured her.

"Who are you?" Suzannah stopped as she saw someone waiting in the living room.

The door slammed shut behind them and Simon stepped out from behind it.

"Babbling Brook," Minda noted with pleasure. "It looks like you're going to be visiting my ship after all."

"I don't believe this," Babbling Brook decided.

"Oh, it's true," Minda waved a finger at her. "Just because you got away once didn't mean the invitation wasn't still open." Minda looked around them. "Where's Peter?"

"Peter's where I should be," the Princess grumbled. "Take them to the beach house, it'll be safe there," she mimed.

"Peter thought you'd be safe here, huh?"

"How did you find this place? I thought he said she didn't know where it was," Suzannah turned to Babbling Brook.

"I didn't," Capt. Herman agreed. "But Tinkerbell was very helpful."

"You have Tinkerbell?" Suzannah gasped. Minda just nodded. "Great, great" she sat down on a cushioned chair. "I'll never get home," she whined miserably.

"Now I have a question," Minda approached them, as Simon did. "Who the heck are you?" she pointed at Suzannah.

"Suzannah. Suzannah Darling. And I don't live here, and I don't belong here and I just want to go home."

"Well, I know you certainly don't live here, unless you're one of Peter's girls," Minda agreed, "As for belonging here," Minda regarded Suzannah's oversized, paint spatter design, jacket, "I'd say your clothes taste is obviously very good."

For the first time everyone realized that both Suzannah and Minda wore the exact same top. It was not a pleasant realization. Simon came forward and put the tip of his sword inside the flap of Suzannah's jacket. A quick movement would be enough to rip it off her.

"Oh, leave it on, Simon," Minda stopped him." I always liked that jacket." Minda began to turn away. "Only of course, I liked it on myself."

"What are you going to do Capt. Herman?" Babbling Brook returned to the issue at hand.

"I am going to wait for Peter. Sooner or later he'll have to come back here."

"My brother," Suzannah suddenly realized and jumped up to find Simon's sword edge at her throat. "What did you do with my brother?"

"You have a brother?" Minda looked interested. "What does he look like?"

"What have you done with him?" Suzannah's voice was low and ominous.

"I haven't done anything to your brother, yet," Minda answered her. "In fact I didn't know you had one. But I am interested in hearing about him."

"He's a bit young for you, Minda," Andy spoke up. "He's only fourteen."

"So?" Minda smiled and tapped her fingers together. "Little boys are fun at that age."

"You stay away from him," Suzannah warned.

"Look," Minda walked up to her and stared her down coldly and calmly. "You are in no position to be telling me what to do. Now I don't know where your brother is, and I probably don't want him anyway. But," she modified her tone and looked genteel again, "I am interested in talking to you and finding out just how much you know about Peter."

At this moment Andy suddenly bolted from the room. Simon was after him in a flash and, with his bulky wings, the little messenger was no match for the tall and well built pirate. Babbling Brook looked towards Minda as Andy ran, but Minda was no slouch with her sword either and held Babbling Brook at bay while tripping Suzannah who also moved for the door.

"Tsk, tsk, Andy, Andy," Minda scolded as Simon carried the struggling, kicking, feisty prisoner back in the room. "That was not smart. We might have let you go, you know."

"You would?" Simon looked at her in surprise.

"Who knows?" Minda shrugged a hand. "Knock him out, Simon. He's going to be too much trouble."

Simon dropped him and pushed him to the floor, then as Andy tried to get to his feet he grabbed him by the back of the neck and brought him back far enough to deck him. Andy crumpled.

"Capt. Herman," Babbling Brook faced her. "I don't think I like you very much."

"I know," Minda grinned. "I like it that way." As Simon picked Andy up and dumped him on a couch, she added "And you two might as well get comfortable because we're going to be here for a while."

"Did you hear something?" Simon suddenly asked his captain.

They all listened, and as they did the front door opened and a figure walked inside. In his hand was a just opened champagne bottle.

"Minda Faye," he said in a clear and unenhanced voice as he recognized her. "I thought that was your yacht outside."

Minda regarded the stranger with obvious appreciation and no familiarity. He did not look that young, but then the tux, pleated shirt and red bow tie gave him a sophisticated and genuinely suave appearance.

"Are you Suzannah's brother?" Minda asked, stepping forward a bit.

Suzannah was about to reply that she was glad that he was not when Simon moved forward swiftly and dangerously.

"No, he's not her brother," Simon stepped in front of Minda and aimed his sword for the stranger's chest. "I know who you are," his moderate, pleasant voice was now tinged with anger and resentment. "And I'm telling you now, I'm going to rip your throat out."

"Oh, please don't!" Babbling Brook burst out. Everyone looked at her. "I can't stand the sight of blood. I don't want to see this."

Suzannah renewed her thoughts of going home.

"I don't understand, Simon. Who is he?" Minda asked as Simon backed her, Babbling Brook and Suzannah to the sliding glass door.

"He's the Crock, that's who he is," Simon guessed as he jerked Suzannah to Minda's guard with his free hand.

"That's alright, Simon. I can take care of myself," Minda spoke cautiously as he picked Andy up and slung him over his shoulder. As the group stood at the door and departed, Simon turned back to the visitor.

"You're getting away this time because she's here. But the next time we meet, I'm going to kill you."

"I'll be ready for you," the Crock weighed the bottle in his hand.

Simon's piercing eyes spoke volumes as the Crock was left alone in the beach house.

In the Indian village, preparations for a raid were being made. Peter was going around to all the warriors and rallying them together, meeting new people, and organizing supplies.

"You people are efficient," Peter noted to Scattered Winds, proprietor of a popular bar and one of the supply organizers.

"We keep things organized," Scattered Winds agreed and offered Peter a beer.

"A toast to our luck tonight," Peter accepted it.

"Good idea," Scattered Winds drank as several other braves joined in.

"I remember the last raid we had. It was years and years go," an older brave joined in. "It was on the same ship, against Capt. Herman's mother."

"A drink to the old raid!" someone called out. Everyone agreed.

"What happened?" Peter asked.

"We lost," the brave recalled.

Peter tried to shrug this off. "Well, to the success of a new generation then!"

"Yeah!" everyone drank a toast to this idea.

"Peter, this is Waving Feather. She's been in charge of training most of the Indian women that will be joining us tonight," Scattered Winds introduced.

"To Waving Feather!" someone else called out.

After more drinks, Peter noted "Women on a raid. What a great idea," a thought came to him. "To women!" another call went up, and Peter drank some more.

"Hear, hear. Maybe you can train my Lost Girls," Peter suggested. "To the Lost Girls!" he proposed.

More drinks later, Peter was feeling increasingly good.

"A toast to--to--" he hesitated.

"To the ceiling!" someone yelled.

"Yeah, the ceiling!" Peter agreed and downed half of his mug. "Now a toast to--to-- the floor!" he became inspired.

He sloshed down more beer and then concentrated fuzzily.

"I'm going to have to invite all of you to a party at my place," he decided. "To my party!" he called.

Peter made at least three more unmemorable toasts before he noticed he was hearing no enthusiastic response to them. Looking around he realized the bar was empty.

"Oh, that's not good," he muttered to himself as he also began searching for a clock.

Chief Lumpy himself was going to go as far as the shore line and direct the raid from there. Many of the Indians were outraged to hear that the Princess had been kidnapped, but more were upset over the fact that she was to have been used as ransom for supplies. In the midst of all the preparations it seemed one figure was curiously absent. Chief Lumpy was getting upset that no one could find a trace of Peter when a 6 year old made his way through the crowd.

"Chief Lumpy?" he asked timidly.

"Eh?" he asked as he looked around to see the source of his distraction.

"Chief Lumpy? Scattered Winds asked me to tell you--uhm--"

"What is it? Whose child is this?" the Chief demanded.

"Chief it's about uhm--"

"Look, little boy, you should go home. Everyone is very busy here. Jut go home to your mother," the Chief again looked around for a possible parent.

"Chief Lumpy? It's about Peter," the child tried again.

"Peter? You know where Peter is?" the Chief paid attention for the first time. "Where is Peter?"

"Hey Chief, how's it hanging?" Peter stumbled into the circle of tribesmembers.

"Peter, where have you been?" the Chief demanded.

"Heya cutie, how are you?" he asked a female warrior. She did not respond well to being chucked on the chin.

"You're drunk!" she exclaimed.

"Me?" Peter looked shocked. "No, I'm not drunk. We've got a battle to wage here, right?" he called out to the others. Answering cheers went up.

"Where have you been? Have you been drinking?" the Chief leaned forward to smell Peter's breath.

"Naw, I've been passing some time with ScatteredWinds. He runs a very nice bar," Peter spoke spacedly and carefully. "Now, Minda's waiting for us."

"I should hope not!" the Chief said uncomfortably, not at all pleased with his cohort. "Let us go!" he called to the others.

"Great place you got here, Chief. Great place," Peter slapped him on the back as everyone made their way out of the compound.

"What did you do with Andy? What's going on here Capt. Herman? You know, I don't think my father's going to be very happy about this. I already told Simon earlier today that if you think--"

"I think I'm going to have your tongue cut out if you don't shut up!" Minda exclaimed. "Good grief, have you been trying to live up to your name?

"Huh?" the Princess looked genuinely puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Minda opened her eyes wide and heaved a deep breath.

"Never mind. Simon, I think I'll have a talk with Suzannah. Take old Flowing Mouth here and put her in the hold with the other one."

"Now just a minute. What do you think you're going to do? Capt. Herman! I demand that you give me a chance to--" the princess began to yell as Simon dragged her from the room.

"I have no idea how she's lived so long with a mouth like that," Minda shook her head and sat next to Suzannah. "Where exactly is Mr. Pan and why was he sending you and old Brook there to hide out in his beach house?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything. I just want to find my brother and go home."

"Now Suzannah, you really can't believe I could think you and Peter haven't talked about anything since you arrived here. What were you doing at the Indian camp?"

"We went to take Babbling Brook home," Suzannah explained.

"And Chief Lumpy wasn't too happy, was he?"

Suzannah shook her head. Minda shook hers also.

"I didn't think so. So what did he decide to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything."

Minda looked a bit inconvenienced. "Well, if you don't want to talk to me, you can talk to Simon. He isn't always the most pleasant person to deal with, take it from me."

"Where's Tinkerbell?" Suzannah asked.

"She's down in the hold along with your other two friends. And at this rate--" Minda leaned towards her. "They're going to stay there for a long time."

Chief Lumpy's scouts informed them that Minda's yacht was not far off shore and almost right by Peter's supposedly esconded house. Concerned about his daughter's welfare, he, Peter, and a few braves headed for Peter's house while the others took up position on the beach nearby, boats ready.

"Tinkerbell? Anyone?" Peter called as he walked in the door.

"Peter! Peter!" he heard as dozens of Lost Girls came scurrying towards him.

"Hey, easy, easy--down girls, down. It's too early for this," Peter swayed amongst them. "Crock, I presume," he said to the lone male figure among the clinging females.

"My name's Roger actually," the Crock introduced himself, "but, yeah I'm the Crock."

"Peter Pan. Good to meet you," Peter shook his hand. "Is my assistant here?"

"The girls have been telling me they've been looking for her since early today. I can tell you where she is though."

"Minda--" Peter began.

"She's got her," Roger nodded. "In fact, she was waiting here for you."

"So the braves were right," Peter tried to make his way to a seat. "Crock, this is Chief Lumpy Detergent."

"You are the fellow who is supposed to get rid of this pirate woman?" the Chief asked Roger.

"Yes sir," Roger nodded. "She also took Andy, Princess Babbling Brook, and your friend, Suzannah, I think her name is," Roger continued.

"Fabulous," Peter sat down and put his head in his hands. "Get me something for my hangover, will you April?" he asked one of the girls. Several scurried off.

"You don't look like you're ready to raid a ship," Roger noted accurately.

"I got caught up hanging out with some of the guys. Never could turn down a party," Peter admitted. "I understand you're only into champagne."

"That, and good lager," Roger concurred.

"She has my daughter?" the Chief grasped.

"Took her aboard the ship," Roger acknowledged.

"What are we waiting for? My little girl is on board. Who knows what they might do?" he became anxious. "Immediately, let's go."

"They'll leave her alone if they're smart," Peter squinted up at Crock. "Glad you're in on this. You think you can handle Minda?"

"Not a problem," Roger acknowledged as he took a last sip of champagne.

"Good," Peter got up and accepted a glass from his sycophants. "Thanks Bunny."

"I hope so," Peter agreed as he put down the glass and followed the others out.

Simon re-entered Minda's cabin.

"Any problems?" Minda looked up at him.

"None," Simon shook his head. "But I was pretty tempted to deck the Princess too, just lay one right on her," Simon cocked a fist.

"Well since you're in that mood anyway," Minda got up and met him at the door. "Maybe you'd like to see what you can get out of her," Minda waved a thumb towards Suzannah. "My interrogation doesn't seem to have yielded much."

Simon's eyes narrowed as he regarded Suzannah. "My pleasure," he answered.

"Good bye, Suzannah. I'll see you later," Minda waved as she walked out. Simon closed the door behind her and regarded Suzannah silently for a moment.

"She's gone," he murmured as he stood with his back to the door.

"Huh?" Suzannah looked at him.

"I said, she's gone," he murmured again and walked up to her. "We're all alone."

Suzannah looked up at his face and smiled suddenly.

"So we are," she murmured back.

"Are you ok? Are you feeling well?" Tinkerbell gave both of them a quick once over. "You look pale," she told Babbling Brook.

"How long have you been here?" the Princess asked.

"Since this morning," Tinkerbell replied. "Oh, Babbling Brook, I'm so ashamed. I told Minda where Peter's house was and I told her about the Crock. I feel terrible."

"That's alright," the Princess soothed her. "What did they do to you?"

Tinkerbell was silent with hesitation.

"Was it that bad?" the Princess asked with concern.

"They said they would take the stereo out of my Fiero," Tinkerbell admitted in a low voice.

The Princess paused, then patted her shoulder, "Don’t worry Tink, everyone has their weak points."

"How are you feeling?" Roger asked Peter.

"I'm seeing single," Peter replied. Then he looked at a familiar figure. "Maybe not."

"Peter, what's going on here? Where's my sister?"

"Mikey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, you wanker. Where is she?"

"Calm down, Mikey. Your sister is on board Minda's ship."

"What's she doing there?" Michael demanded.

"I'd like to know myself. Minda's got nothing on her."

"It's your fault, isn't it?" Michael glared at him. "She's got her because of you, hasn't she?"

Peter sighed and looked at Michael.

"Where are you going?" Michael grabbed his arm.

"We're going to rescue your sister, and Tinkerbell and Princess Babbling Brook, and Andy from the ship, and hopefully end Minda's doings once and for all," Peter replied. "Now if you want to come along you can come along, or you can stay home with the Lost Girls and take care of them."

Michael looked a bit self-conscious but answered, "She's my sister."

Guilt and responsibility passed in their glance.

"Ok then," Peter turned away. "Chief, I think we're ready to start here."

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Andy demanded as he came to.

"We're on board Capt. Herman's ship," Babbling Brook explained. "Are you all right?"

"That polluted, bloody, wanking--"

"Yes, Simon knocked you out," the Princess agreed. "Can you sit up?"

"'Course I can sit up," Andy grumbled. "Who--?" he broke off as he looked up at Tinkerbell. "Oh, it's you. I was looking for you for two hours this morning," he told her.

"I'm sorry. I was kidnapped," Tinkerbell explained.

"That's no excuse," Andy murmured with an attempt at facetiousness. "Where are we?"

"We're here in the hold of the ship. You ok?" the Princess repeated as Andy stood up.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ok. I've been boshed before," he waved her away. He looked around the room. "Awful nice prison ship, isn't this?"

"Certainly is," the Princess concurred.

"Oh, it's very nice," Tinkerbell emphaszied. "I was going through it earlier today and I saw some of--"

"How are we going to get out of here?" Andy interrupted her.

He seemed answered as the key in the lock turned and four braves appeared at the door.

The Princess looked at Andy. "Maybe we're not," she replied.

Things were not going for the best up in the Captain's cabin.

"Well," Minda paused at the door of her cabin as she regarded the two Scorpios within. "What a very interesting interviewing technique Simon. I must say, I've never seen anything like it."

Simon looked at her but was quite silent.

"Hmm," Minda rubbed her chin. "They call it mutiny, don't they? Well, most mutineers I know walk the plank. But since you and I have shared such an intimate relationship in the past, I think I'll have to do something special just for you."

Simon got up and helped Suzannah to her feet.

"You never did like the bag trick, did you, Simon?" Minda looked him over. "Bring out a life raft!" she called out behind her.

Silently, some two dozen canoes paddled out towards the brightly lit yacht as Chief Lumpy and a few assistants stayed behind on shore with him to watch the progress of his warriors. Aboard one of the canoes was Michael, carrying a spear he had been issued and feeling ridiculously out of place. He figure he couldn't look as bad as Peter however who was skimming the water in front of the canoes and following an exceedingly erratic path. Some braves thought he was being marvelously clever by camouflaging the formation. Michael realized for himself that Peter was flying drunk.

Minda was too busy at the moment to keep a look out for approaching canoes, and so were most of her men. Simon, longtime first mate and Minda's personal cabin boy aboard the Misguided Soul, was going to be capsized and everyone wanted to watch. Moreover, with his unceremonious departure, she was sure to be choosing a new first mate and no one wanted to miss that either.

"So, have you got any last words, Simon?" Minda asked the blond sailor as he and Suzannah were tied together and the life raft was placed in the water.

Simon had been gazing straight ahead but now looked straight into her eyes and said nothing. He continued to look at her until Minda sighed, "Hmm, yes, I always did like those eyes of yours, Simon," she admitted. "Oh well, lower them into the boat," she waved a hand and stepped back from them.

"What's going on here?" Babbling Brook called as she, Andy and Tinkerbell were ushered onto the top deck. "What are you doing?"

"What are they doing here?" Minda looked at the trio.

"You asked that they be brought on deck, Captain," one of her men replied.

"Did I?" Minda wondered. "No matter, come on closer to the edge, I have something I want you to see."

"Tinkerbell!" Suzannah called as she and Simon were placed in the life raft below. "Help me!"

"This is terrible." Tinkerbell looked at Minda in horror.

"It does seem a pity," Minda agreed. "She could have become a cadet in training, started a fleet here," Minda regarded the figure. "Excellent clothes taste."

"Are you having second thoughts, captain?" one of her men asked.

"Me?" Minda looked at him in some surprise. "I suppose I am entitled." Pausing, she waved a hand. "No, get me some chocolate covered strawberries."

"How can you eat at a time like this?" Babbling Brook gazed at her in amazement.

"Chemical substances in the brain are activated by the gases in your stomach that cause a chain reaction sending messages from the stomach to the brain. The brain thus releases chemicals that stimulate the salivary glands and-"

"Thank you, professor Herman," Andy grunted.

"You're welcome Andy. Now shut up and watch," Minda directed.

"How did I get into this mess?" Suzannah said to herself as the raft was pushed away from the yacht and she and Simon were allowed to drift.

"You had a lot of fun," Simon reminded her.

"Not this much fun," Suzannah protested.

"Could have fooled me," Simon retorted calmly but urgently. "How tight are your ropes?"

"Very," Suzannah retorted. "There's no way you're getting them loose."

"Can you tread water?" Simon asked.

"Not for long and not with you tied to me. You're too heavy."

"I'm hoping that in the dark they might not see us. We don't have much time."

"We're miles from shore," Suzannah reminded him.

"You've got to be positive," he told her. "I'm not about to just die here if I can help it."

"Why did you do this in the first place?" Suzannah demanded.

"Because you're a very sexy girl," Simon replied after a pause.

"Sexier than Captain Herman?" Suzannah inquired.

"Oh, I'm not getting into that one," Simon stopped her.

"That's far enough out," Minda decided as she watched the raft from her boat. "Line up the sights," she ordered her crew as the strawberries arrived.

"Capt. Herman, I protest!" Babbling Brook spoke up.

"One more word and you're next, Babble," Minda told her dryly.

"Be careful now," she advised her men. "I want you to blow them out of the water not blow them apart. Fire!," she ordered.

As Tinkerbell and Babbling Brook both squealed and Andy winced from the explosion, the bazooka fired and the shell splashed in just east of the raft. The waves rocked violently and as Simon and Suzannah braced themselves, the raft teetered. After a few heartstopping moments, it righted itself and rode the ripples.

"Keep it the same distance now that the water's already choppy," Minda kept her eye on the raft in the searchlights.

"Captain Herman?" one of her crew interrupted.

"What is it?" she looked distinctly annoyed.

"Captain Herman! By the raft," one of the artillery men interrupted the interruption.

"Peter!" Tinkerbell cried.

"Where?" Minda looked out over the water. "Fire!" she yelled.

Alerted by the spotlights and the sound of the bazooka, Peter had skimmed up to the raft and was slicing the ropes with his dagger. Snatching Suzannah up in his arms, he flew off with her. The bazooka fired and the raft lifted up into the air and flipped over dramatically as Peter headed for the yacht.

"Simon!" Suzannah called.

Peter set her down aboard the yacht's roof and they both looked back at the water. The water was calming and the overturned raft lay limply on the waves, deflated from the hole in its side.

"Damn!" Minda cursed as she realized her quarry had gotten away. "Oooh, why you--" Minda waved her fist. "How dare you? You interrupted a perfectly good capsizing! I'll have your head for this!" Minda lost her cool for the first time any of her crew could remember. "Get that jerk!" she yelled.

"Got to run, love. Stay here," Peter told her.

"But--" Suzannah called out as he flew off, then gazed back at what she could still see of the life raft, disturbed.

As several of Minda's crew raced to engage Peter, the Indian forces were closing in on Minda's ship. In the general confusion the three prisoners were pretty much forgotten. Andy punched his guard, and with the advantage of surprise managed to lay him out. Tinkerbell wrenched free and flew away. Babbling Brook was not so fortunate. Being unable to fly was a hazard, and she kept pulling free, running a few feet, getting caught again and struggling further. Tinkerbell and Andy, who was now also airborne, came up behind her guard together and each sent a kick to the man's head. Babbling Brook was free.

"Look," Andy called as he looked over the side to see the canoes crowded by the yacht. "It's Chief Lumpy's men," he pointed out.

"Dad?" Babbling Brook called over the edge.

"Help us up, Princess!" one of the braves called back. With Andy and Tinkerbell's help, rope ladders were swung on board and from all sides braves appeared on the ship to fight Minda's crew.

Michael continued to feel lost in the proceedings but was spurred on by his concern for his sister and particularly a desire not to be left alone in all this. He climbed on board and was nearly thrown back over the side by one of Minda's crew. A squaw knocked the man out from behind however and he fell at Michael's feet. Before he could react she was off tackling another fellow and he stood with his spear, wondering whether or not it was safe to stay in that spot.

"So there you are you tall, skinny, sub-intelligent excuse for a well-dressed man," Minda found Peter at her sword tip. "I'll tear you to shreds."

"I'd be careful about who you call sub-intelligent," Peter snarled back at her, batting her sword away.

"If you're referring to yourself, I think not," Minda countered as they circled one another. "Besides, any man with any amount of intelligence knows that when one's shirt tail is out one looks not only incredibly sloppy, but incredibly stupid!" Minda yelled at the end of her sentence.

"I'd hardly credit you with the greatest taste in men anyhow, looking around me," Peter jabbed forward.

"Coming from a bodyless toothpick like you whose IQ and dick size are probably both just as small, you are one to talk!" Minda parried the lunge and moved back around him.

"Coming from a wanton slut like you, I don't think the word 'taste' runs in your family!" Peter slashed forward viciously.

"Wanton slut? It takes one to know one," Minda backed up with his lunges. "At least I come from a family you slobby bastard, you!"

Michael had picked his way across the deck, losing his spear and gaining a sword. As he spotted two of Minda's crew he ran down what he could of the deck and tried to hide between two storage bins. Instead a crewmember faced him, and from behind him appeared one of the braves.

Michael stood frozen as the two began to duel eachother right in front of him. As the crewmember finally fell, Michael did what any sensible fourteen year old would do in a similar situation. He passed out.

Babbling Brook had made her way to the top of the yacht where Suzannah waited in misery.

"Hello again," the Indian princess greeted her as Suzannah helped her struggle on the roof. "You know, I think I saw your brother on board here. At least, I assume he's your brother. I can't imagine where else he could have come from."

"Michael?" Suzannah grabbed her arm. "Michael is here?"

"Young guy, about my height, thin, pale, wears a lot of make-up and has blond hair with dark roots?"

"At the time, he was running away from two of Minda's crew," Brook recalled.

"I've got to find him," Suzannah began to climb down from the roof.

"It's dangerous," Brook stopped her.

"I'm going," Suzannah repeated. With a sigh, Babbling Brook started down too.

Andy meanwhile was settling a few gripes of his own out on the main deck. He was flying over the scene hitting people here and kicking them there as he saw spots of trouble. While doing so, he spotted an embattled figure fending off two of the men in blue unitards at once. Punching here and there, he made his way over to Peter and finally pulled one man off his client.

Peter finished off the second one as he saw Andy continuing to punch foward. "Hey Andy! It's me!" he warned.

"I know!" Andy replied and smacked him clear on the jaw. Peter stumbled backwards and nearly fell.

"What's going on?" he demanded as he struggled to hold the messenger at bay.

"This has got to be the worst day of my whole career as a messenger!" Andy yelled. "So far you've sent me all over the island, looking for your assistant, taking home your friends, kidnapped by your enemy, knocked out by her first mate, held prisonner by her crew, attacked and worked over in your fight and now it's 10:00 at night and my wife is probably calling pubs all over the island looking for me!" Andy stormed.

"Well, I've got a lovely day with a new girl ruined, no stories written, had to rescue a princess, plan an attack, lose my assistant, nearly have my friend killed, and worst of all I have a hangover!" Peter yelled back. "And I've had a rotten day too!"

"Good! Andy yelled and they both turned and punched two crewmembers who were nearby.

"I think that's him!" Suzannah pointed out as she and Babbling Brook followed Michael's path through the ship.

Up ahead Babbling Brook saw a young man retching over the side.

"Michael!" Suzannah ran up to him as he returned to his normal color. "I'm so glad to see you!"

The siblings hugged eachother as he retorted. "I feel sick. This mess is vile, it's disgusting--- it's gross."

"Yeah it is," Suzannah agreed.

"Did they hurt you?" Michael asked her.

"No," she demurred. "I just want to go home, Michael."

"Me too," he agreed.

"Ha, villainess," Peter grinned in a scoundrelike fashion. "Here we are again."

Minda lifted her sword in reply. "So we are Peter."

As they were about to parry, a wet figure appeared from the side of the boat where he had come aboard.

"Simon," Minda looked at him in shock." I thought you were dead."

"Wishful thinking Minda?" he looked at her, then pulled away a little and faced Peter. "En garde, Mum's little Nigel," he said derisively. "It's time you went home."

Simon lunged foward and Peter parried quickly, backing up all the time as Simon continued to drive foward. Stepping backward, Peter got his leg caught in a cable and fell over. The sword skidded from his grasp.

"Oh, I'll help you, Peter," Tinkerbell appeared, anxious from the sight of the many battles and excessive wounds she had been seeing. "I'll get it," she flew over to the sword.

"Stay out of this Tinkerbell." Peter called to her as Simon was distracted and he rolled out of his way.

"Excuse me, excuse me," she called to one of the crewmembers, who, while fighting his own battle was stepping on part of the sword. "Could you move your foot please?" she slapped his calf. As he did, Tinkerbell snatched up the sword. "Here, Peter," she tried to lift it and as it flew above her head the sword slashed through one man's arm and sent her over backward with its weight into another of Minda's crew. Both Peter and Simon had stopped and were simply watching her in amazement as she accidentally downed two men at once.

"Thanks a lot Bell, that'll be all," Peter assured her as he took the sword from her hands. "Go make sure Suzannah and Babbling Brook are safe, and see if you can find Mikey. He's on board."

"Oh no," Tinkerbell said. "I'll find them."

As Simon and Peter squared off again Minda stepped foward to help when she saw a man with his jacket and bow tie gone, and tux sleeves rolled up, finishing off one of her crew. He turned, sword still in hand, to face her.

"I need to have a few words with you, Miss Herman," he told her as he took her arm and her sword and ushered her below deck.

Up on the top deck, Peter looked around himself in exhaustion but relief. The crew members had surrendered. Simon was piloting the ship back to its dock. Chief Lumpy had been notified that his daughter was safe and the battle won. But one thing remained.

"It's not like Minda to run off in the middle of the battle," Peter shook his head. "Where is she Simon?"

"I don't know," Simon shrugged. "The last time you saw her was the last time I saw her. I don't owe her anything more," he looked down at Suzannah.

Peter looked around in frustration. The victory seemed hollow with his opponent absent.

"Peter," Tinkerbell touched his sleeve. "What about he Crock? Was he here? Did you ever get in touch with him?"

Peter and Simon suddenly looked at eachother.

"This way," Peter directed.

The door to the captain's cabin burst open.

"Crock?" Peter called, squinting through the tulle around the shell shaped bed. "Are you here?"

"We're here," returned a calm voice.

"What happened?" Peter asked impatietly.

"She's going to be my wife," Roger replied.

Peter stared. Then, with a slight sigh, he tossed his sword away and walked out of the cabin.

"They're getting married?" Tinkerbell echoed wonderingly.

"What an ending," Michael decided.

"Some of us should be so lucky," Suzannah agreed.

The night ended quickly after that. Minda's impending marriage so demoralized the rest of her crew that they all agreed to return to their homes. As the crewmembers packed, Andy took his leave, the Indians returned victorious to their camp and the rest of the invaders retired to Peter's beach house where the Lost Girls awaited them anxiously.

It was quite late the next morning before anyone was up and about. Suzannah woke early and found that Peter had come in and fallen asleep beside her after having gotten away from the girls. She thought to herself that Peter didn't look nearly so arrogant when caught in the innocent clutches of sleep. Still, it was not Peter that occupied her thoughts.

The household was stirring by the time Simon arrived there. Michael had gotten up and joined his sister at some breakfast and the Lost Girls insisted upon waiting on him. Suzannah made no comment but noticed her brother was somewhat embarassed. Tinkerbell conferred with Suzannah over some plans of Peter's she thought needed working out. The conference drew satisfactory results and Tinkerbell left to discuss her proposals with Chief Lumpy Detergent.

Peter himself did not get up until quite late. When he did get up it was to make an announcement that was to signify some drastic changes. Tinkerbell had returned with positive news and Peter decided the time had come to announce his restlessness and desire for something new.

"Tomorrow I'll be leaving Always-Always," Peter told the assembled Lost Girls, "maybe for good. I'm going to England to form a band, and Tinkerbell's going with me as my personal assistant. She, and I, have made plans for all of you. Minda's crew is returning to the island and the Indian tribe is going to form a youth organization for all of you, and form business sponsorship programs. I'm sure all of you will be--uh--most creative in that field," Peter regarded his little band of followers. "You'll be well looked after, both personally and professionally," he overrode the beginning protests. "The youth program will be something good for all of you, really," he added convincingly. "You can't live here forever, and neither can I."

Peter regarded the many faces.

"When will we see you again?" one girl asked.

"What will we do without you?" from another.

"Have you got a girl in England?"

"Will you write to us?"

"We don't want you to go!"

Peter calmed the group, making repeated pacifying motions. Tinkerbell too, attempted to soothe the girls as she told them all about her talk with Chief Lumpy and how Peter would be leaving his house unsold so that he could always return to it. Babbling Brook would be in charge of relaying all of Peter's business projects into newsletters so that they could all keep informed on his doings. Peter knew that the panic was not as bad as it might have been had there not been an underground movement in his band already. Some girls were revolting against him since discovering MTV and had been spreading photos and writing letters to Wham!.

As the clamor continued in the household, Suzannah wished to escape it by going outside. When she did, she saw a familiar figure heading down the dock towards the house. She found she was glad to see him, and moreover, was hoping he had come to see her. Sure that no one in the house wished to be bothered by an outside presence during this time of minor upheaval, she walked out to meet him.

As they met at the drive she wondered what Simon was going to make of his future, and even more, where Simon had come from in the first place. She didn't feel the need to ponder Simon himself.

Simon watched her walk out of the house to him with a sense of satistaction. He had been but 16 when Minda had taken him aboard her ship. In that time, he had known very few women, none intimately. It was almost seven years now that Minda had taken over the Misguided Soul from her mother, and he'd been with her almost all that time. Never since then had he something he could really call his own, not his clothes, his food, his quarters and certainly not Minda herself. It flitted through Simon's mind that this was something Roger would soon find out, if he wasn't intelligent enough to realize it at first sight. But here, here was something that could truly be his. Was it this he had realized when he looked at her and found something so familiar in her look, something that mirrored his own self there? Whatever it was, Simon didn't question it much. He felt something else too urgent now, but later, later he was soon to want to explore this with every bit of his own type of burning curiosity.

Peter looked for Suzannah and could not find her. He already knew that she wished to leave tomorrow and return home, but he felt he had spent pitifully little time with his guest--quality time that was. He was sure it would be an exhausting evening and he wanted to see her before too much of the day passed. Tinkerbell was still talking to the girls and enlisting them in helping their joint departure plans. Peter found no one to dialogue with but Michael.

"You had a good time here, Mikey?" Peter asked casually.

"Great time, Peter," Michael's drawl was ironic, not sarcastic.

Peter sat on a bar stool as Michael turned away from the refrigerator.

"You want a beer or anything? Help yourself," Peter gestured at it.

"No thanks, I was looking for the champagne," Michael poured himself a glass.

"Go for the good stuff, eh Mikey?"

"Michael," Michael replied plainly.

Peter looked at him; then he glanced at a bowl of honey roasted peanuts, the same one that never seemed to drain in the house.

"Is your sister mad at me, do you know?"

"You should ask her," Michael replied as he surveyed the glass jars filled with snacks on the counter. "I haven't really talked to her."

"You two close?" Peter continued looking at the peanuts.

Michael hesitated. "I like my sister. She's a real pain sometimes, she has a rotten temper and every once in a while she gets bossy, but she's a lot of fun too."

"I'll bet she is," Peter agreed, but his smirk was not lost on Michael.

"I like your girls," Michael said suddenly.

Peter looked at him in surprise, realization suddenly dawning on him.

"I like them too," he admitted. "I'll miss them. I'm glad Tinkerbell's going to see that they'll be ok."

Michael continued looking at him, abruptly changing his gaze and looking at some of the art in Peter's dining room.

"You're into Russian constructivism," he noted.

"I did that myself actually," Peter glanced at the works displayed there. "I like the colors."

"Really?" Michael commented interogatively. "I rather like that phase myself. You like pop art then?"

"Not exactly the same thing, but, yes, I do," Peter admitted. Glancing back towards the living room, he shrugged, "I guess it's obvious."

"I just noticed it all seemed to follow a pattern," Michael leaned foward on the counter looking past Peter's shoulder also. "You know much about Warhol's work? I mean, if you're going to talk pop art--"

"Warhol, yeah, he's done a lot of stuff--" Peter agreed, answering while still viewing the situation a little removed. Michael was not a child. And he was realizing that his companionship had been very limited for a long time.

Suzannah let sand trail out of her fingers and moved her palm over Simon's stomach, memorizing the skin her fingers traced. The sun that had beat down on her before was showing its afternoon colors and reminded her that was all to run out soon too.

She looked up at Simon, whom she suspected had been thinking the same as he looked across the water. His eyes narrowed from the glare on the surface and his body tensed.

"So, you're leaving tommorow with Peter?" he asked.

"I'm going home," she replied in agreement. She wanted to ask if Simon didn't have a home of his own to go back to, but there was just too much to be said and too little time.

"That boat's been my home," Simon remarked with false casualness. "I don't think I'd really want to be away from it for too long, or be away from the sea."

"What's going to happen to the boat? All the crew's leaving," Suzannah remarked.

"That's up to Minda," Simon replied nonchalantly.

"What do you want to do, Simon," she persisted.

"I want to sail," he replied after a few moments. "I want to see the world."

"Come back with me," Suzannah urged. The second part of the offer was left unmentioned.

"Maybe I shall," he answered, then made motion to get up.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Back to the boat," he replied. "It's mine you know."

"What?" Suzannah gasped in surprise.

"Minda gave it to me this morning." He suddenly grinned.

The name remained on Suzannah's tongue as Simon just smiled, partly at her, partly to himself. "And I am going to sail around the world with it. And you're going to come with me."

Suzannah looked at him. After a moment or two, she nodded.

"I'll be in Quatar."

"I know," he tucked her hand in his as they walked back to the house. "You'd best be waiting for me."

Peter relaxed, pleased with the fact that nearly all stood ready for his departure. Tinkerbell had outdone herself, he considered. Michael had accepted his offer to serve as a wardrobe/art consultant for him in his new career. Nothing might come of it, Michael not being his own man for a while, but he still felt the youngster's talents would be useful to him. While Peter did not admit it entirely, they were much alike.

"How're things going, Bell?" he asked his childhood friend.

"I think we're all ready," Tinkerbell replied, a little distracted. "I don't know about some of your girls though," she shook her head as she looked at him groaningly and Peter joined her laugh.

"Aaah, that's what you always say," Peter teased.

"Well," Tinkerbell shrugged and opened her eyes a bit as she looked at the ground.

Peter sat back and smiled. "Why do you put up with me, Bell?"

"What?" she looked at him with her usual polite and quizzical look.

Dusk found Simon back aboard the "Misguided Soul", returning to his cabin. He had expected to be alone, but when he reached his cabin he knew for certain that the person he had tried to avoid was aboard, and undoubtedly, by the sound of her humming, waiting for him. He recognized the tune. It was a song he had written for her, quite a long time ago at that, and she had remembered. Simultaneously he thought of returning to a time where he would be inspired to write a love song on the eve of a particularly special night, and just as suddenly felt a flash of desire awaken his memories. It would be lonely to slip away from the familiarity of his life with her, and he realized he knew what she wanted to say.

"You remembered," Simon said, a bit confused.

Minda had heard his approaching footsteps, a loud sound in the deserted vessel.

"When I turned this ship over to you this morning," Minda nodded around her, "it wasn't just because you were my cabin boy and the next in line for commanding it," she spoke slowly. "I wanted to ask you something. When I tried to kill you, why did you return to the ship to defend me?"

"I didn't come back aboard with that intention," Simon said after a while. "But when I returned -- I couldn't fight for the other side against you." As she moved he took her arm firmly. "This is what you want."

Minda studied his face carefully for a moment and answered simply, "Yes, this is what I want."

"Then there is nothing left to say."

"Simon!" Minda stopped him as he turned away to stand at the porthole.

"I've heard that lovers can be friends too. We were friends at one time, weren't we?" There was no answer. "Will I see you again?" she moved around him to catch his expression.

He looked over at her and held her face in one hand. "I haven't forgotten a birthday yet, now have I?"

'The smile' as he had always called it, appeared on her face and he held her close to him for a long while before kissing her -- not willing to let the moment slip away too quickly.

Roger's impatience was well concealed as he stood on the dock and watched his fiancee debark the Misguided Soul. A restlessness had hit him that he found most unnatural and yet anticipatory. As the dinghy came closer, he waved to her and grinned.

Minda smiled and waved back as she approached, but glanced over her shoulder as she came closer and caught the image of Simon by the rail, watching her go with that surface smoothness that so often did not conceal the flaring sensitivities inside him. But then, she would know much more about that than anybody.

Roger met her on the dock with an embrace.

"Simon's decided to take the yacht," she told him as she held him next to her.

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied calmly. "It would be a shame to sell her. Let's get going, I've got something to show you."

As they walked towards the silver Corniche that stood parked at the dock's end, Minda thought about how alike she had found herself to be with the man beside her. She had not been as surprised as the others when he had told her he was planning to retire, and wished her to accompany him in it. Strangers of the same mold were not really strangers at all.

There was a crowd gathering outside Chief Lumpy's office building.

"Good luck with everything," Babbling Brook told Suzannah and Michael as they all said farewells prior to their departure. "I'm sure the months will go by quick."

"I hope so," Michael drawled, "or we're going to have a murder in our household."

The Lost Girls, or many of them at least, had come to see them off. Many were at least as sorry to see Michael depart as Peter. Suzannah had not missed the fact that both Peter and Michael looked tired this morning and neither had been in their bedrooms the night before.

"Good luck," Andy wished Peter and Tinkerbell. "I've got something for you," he told Peter and handed him a note written on monogrammed stationery. Peter opened it curiously. Tinkerbell tried not to look interested and Peter showed it to her as an afterthought. "It's from Crock. He wishes us all a good trip and thanks us for asking him to take on that last assignment," he added to Suzannah.

"Are we ready to go?" she asked.

"I think so," Peter looked at Tinkerbell.

"I'm sorry to leave the Fiero, and all the nice friends we've made," she sighed as she looked around and nodded at a few people.

"I'll get you a new one, Bell," Peter promised her.

"Good-bye," everyone called as the group took off.

Suzannah waved to Babbling Brook and Peter decided to stop and buzz Chief Lumpy's window by knocking on it and waving merrily as they headed off. Andy flew with them a ways before waving them off as they left Always-Always.

"Bye!" he called. "Hang loose, Peter, and don't worry Michael, things change with time."

Michael waved back at him as his sister looked at him curiously.

"What was all that about?"

"Uh--nothing," Michael looked embarassed.

The compound appeared below them as if nothing had changed since their few days away.

"So, you're off to England?" Suzannah asked as she and Michael landed in her room.

"Look for me," Peter winked.

"What's the name of your group going to be. Have you decided?" Michael asked him.

"I think I'm going to call it 'JT and That's All'," Peter replied thoughtfully.

"Very descriptive," Suzannah agreed dryly.

"Take care of yourself," Tinkerbell nodded at them. "Eat well," she urged Michael.

"I will," Michael smiled back at her.

"You keep being creative," Peter rubbed a thumb along the side of Suzannah's chin. "I'll be seeing you for some ideas."

"I'm sure you will," Suzannah agreed as Peter bent forward and kissed her. He stepped back to the window and stood in it. "Bye kids."

"Bye," the siblings went to the window and waved them off.

"My goodness, where have you been?" Celina Darling exclaimed as she walked into Suzannah's room. "Did you know that there has been a national alert out? We didn't notice you were gone until this morning."

"Oh, we just got lost around the city yesterday," Suzannah explained. "We still don't know it very well."

"Don't go like that again. I thought I heard voices in here and I decided to come and see." Celina paused and then said "Sit down, I have some news."

"What?" they nearly chorused.

"I found out today that there is vacancy in the American embassy in Paris and they are thinking of sending me there. It's a step down in position but I thought it would be a better environment for the two of you." She looked at her daughter and added whimsically" And it would give you a chance to practice your French."

Suzannah's mind ran pleasantly with the memory of spoken French.

"How soon are we going?" she asked.

"Perhaps a month or two," her mother replied.

"It sounds great," Michael asserted as Suzannah got up and began fishing in her desk.

"What are you looking for?" her mother asked.

"I've got a story to write," Suzannah grinned.