“You know, when I told my dad to build something for Liam that wasn’t a mod, I didn’t exactly have this in mind…” Celine said, bemused as she watched her young son zoom around wide open halls in his toy hoverspeeder.

  Aris giggled, her arms outstretched pretending to chase him. “He’s just like his parents. He can’t keep his mind out of the sky,” she said, good-natured teasing in her voice.

  Over the past few of years since Celine first arrived to the walled city, she and Aris had grown remarkably close. She made the transition from Celine’s handler, to Liam’s nanny, but more than that, she was Celine’s closest confidante next to Ben himself. They spent hours together talking and laughing over the antics of the young Prince — and his goofball father.

  Celine still spent quite a lot of her time as an instructor for new modders and engineers, but when she wasn’t in class, she was hanging out with Aris and Liam, or flying with Ben when they could find the time.

  “Unca! Unca!” Liam cried, racing across the empty hall.

  In the shadow of the doorway was Alex’s silhouette, one arm behind his back.

  Liam jumped out of his toy speeder and tottered over to Alex, clinging to his shins, never even noticing that they didn’t match.

  Aris slowed her pursuit after Liam got out, and sauntered over to where the two boys stood. Celine thought she could see a little smirk curling Aris’s lips.

  Alex’s arm swept forward, an extravagant bouquet of flowers clutched in his fist.

  “Fresh-picked from the Perimeter,” he said, offering them to Aris.

  Aris’s eyes went wide looking at the flowers, but Celine saw something else there. The part of her lips, the little slump of her shoulders.

  “Does this mean we can all stop pretending we don’t see what’s going on here?” Celine teased.

  Aris stammered, taking the offered bouquet.

  Alex took her free hand in his, his eyes shimmering with a plea. “What do you say? Can you bear the thought of being publicly attached to me?”

  Aris seemed to mull it over for a moment, dipping down to inhale the floral scent and hide her growing grin.

  “I think maybe I can…” she said.

  Alex didn’t waste a moment before he wrapped his arm around her waist and drug her in close, pulling her into him.

  “Oh!” Aris squeaked only a moment before his lips descended on hers.

  Footsteps behind her made Celine turn, spotting her husband approaching. He stood at her side and curled an arm around her hips. “This again?” he said, clearly amused.

  “Shush,” said Celine. “It’s romantic.”

  Ben pouted, his voice a low whisper. “I’m romantic! Remember that time I took you to the aurora on Felleria? Or that incredible meteor shower on Vandu?”

  Celine covered his hand with hers and patted it fondly, her head resting on his shoulder. “Of course I remember.”

  He squeezed her hand back, the way they always did, silent communication of love and support.

  Just that moment, the little Prince spotted the newest arrival. “Papa!” Liam cried, running as best he could on his wobbly chubby legs. Ben scooped him up, wrapping him in a big bear hug, and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

  Liam giggled and clung to his Papa, his face shining with glee. Celine was certain her heart was actually going to melt.

  “I think Mommy needs to go for a flight,” Ben whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “What do you say, buddy?”

  Celine could barely suppress the giggle that came from her son’s eyes widening to the size of moons. It wasn’t often they took him — he was still so young, but he wouldn’t always be.

  “Yes!” Liam squealed.

  Ben and Celine laughed together. He definitely had the flying bug, too. No getting around it.

  Ben cleared his throat and looked over to Aris, still wrapped up in Alex’s arms. She’d tried to pull away when she saw Ben, but Alex held her firm, clearly not going to let her hide their affair any longer.

  “Aris, you’re relieved of your Prince monitoring duties this evening. Go have fun,” he said, a teasing edge in his voice.

  Before Aris could manage a response, Ben took his Queen by the hand and carried his son with him, heading toward the hangars. He turned to her, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. “See? Romantic.”

  Celine rolled her eyes, her grin growing of its own volition. She kissed him, a thrill going all the way to her toes. “The most romantic,” she agreed.

  And they lived happily ever after...

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  Chapter 1

  Wendy

  “Are you two sure you’ll be alright?” Wendy asked, pulling socks out of their drawer to refold and put away neatly. She frowned, looking around the cramped dorm room, searching for something else to straighten, but they’d spent all day unpacking — her following behind the twins to re-organize everything. She didn’t want to call it too soon, but it seemed like maybe her job was done. She rolled her neck, stiff from carrying boxes up four flights of stairs all day, and thought about a nice hot bath when she got home.

  “We’re fine, really,” John said, nudging her shoulder to push her toward the door.

  She narrowed her eyes, hands going to her hips. “What are you two planning?” she asked. They were far too eager to be rid of her.

  Michael sighed and stood from the creaky bed, his tall lanky frame dwarfing her with its shadow. “Nothing, dear sister,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “It might be hard for you to understand, but we’re just really excited to be on our own finally.”

  Wendy offered her brother a smile. The reminder that the boys were on their own — that they wouldn’t be under her roof where she could watch over them anymore — was a knife straight to her heart. But she sucked back the tears, determined to not make a scene. She was happy for them. They were finally growing up and going out into the world. And she’d finally have some peace and quiet. As much as she loved her brothers, she didn’t love the chaos that seemed to follow in their wake.

  “We’re just going to chill, do some studying... Classes start on Monday, you know,” John said with a teasing lilt. She’d mentioned classes starting at least a dozen times while they unpacked throughout the day.

  This time, Wendy’s smile was genuine and she nudged John’s arm playfully. “Don’t sass me,” she said, wrapping him in a fierce hug, ignoring her aching body. “You guys may have grown like weeds in the last couple of years, but don’t forget I’m still your big sister.”

  “Never,” Michael said, taking his hug with a grin before gently herding Wendy toward the door.

  She looked around one last time, the sterile walls they couldn’t poke holes in, the generic college furniture and a window that didn’t even open. But there were signs of the twins everywhere now, too. Comics and figurines, science textbooks for classes they wouldn’t take for years, and a handful of framed pictures she’d made up just for the occasion. Wendy didn’t want them to forget how much she cared about them. They always had a place with her if college didn’t work out.

  “Go,” John said with a laugh. “You’ve got a newfound freedom, too, you know.”

  She gave them each another quick hug before they practically pushed her out of their dorm room.

  The whole way home, Wendy felt moderately guilty about the thought that wouldn’t leave her head — she almost hoped college wouldn’t work out. Then the twins would always be close-by where she could keep a watchful eye on them. She knew that was selfish and she should be happy for this new chapter of their lives.

  She was going to try to be happy for them, at least. And for herself.

  The townhouse seemed far too empty without them bickering and thundering down the stairs like elephants. How two teenaged boys sounded like a whole army, she’d never understand. It was quiet and dark and Wendy flipped on a light, soaking in the strangeness of it all.

  You have a newfound freedom, too, you know.

  John was right, of course. John was always right, but Wendy didn’t know how to handle that. She’d never been free to do her own thing. It had always been her, taking care of the twins.

  She went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. As the flames licked the underside of the pot and the water began to heat, she stared at the pictures on the fridge — the boys, so tiny and fragile, still with hospital bracelets on, then a bit older, in oversized lab coats and goggles, doing experiments in the kitchen. One of those experiments nearly burned down the house. There were still scorch marks on the ceiling if she looked in just the right spot.

  Wendy sighed. It seemed impossible that they were grown-up and off to college, living on their own already. Some people thought that day would never come — and for a while, it seemed very likely it wouldn’t — but the twins had tenacity and determination unlike anyone else Wendy had ever met. They were never going to accept defeat, even as kids.

  The kettle whistled and Wendy poured the hot water over her tea bag, leaving it to steep as she went to run a bath.

  She’d fantasized all day about what to do with her first night of freedom: a cup of tea, a hot bubble bath, and that book she’d been neglecting on her nightstand for four months. There would be no loud music, concerning bangs, or explosions to interrupt her relaxation — and honestly, after a day of moving and unpacking, her tired muscles could use the soak.

  As the water filled the tub and the bubbles grew, Wendy decided to treat herself, lighting a few scented candles and turning on some soft soothing music. Medicine for the soul.

  Sure, not having the twins around would be hard and lonely sometimes, but she was bound and determined to explore the bonuses of living alone. It might be bitter, the boys moving out of the house, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be sweet too.

  She grabbed her mug of tea and walked toward the bathroom, book in her other hand, her chest already loosening from the stress of the day. But as she walked by her computer, Wendy paused, hovering behind the desk in an intense debate with herself.

  I shouldn’t...

  Just a little peace of mind, though...

  But you should trust them!

  One little peek won’t hurt.

  If the twins were really studying like they said they were, then there wasn’t any harm in checking in on them. Wendy opened the lid of her laptop and moved the mouse to wake up the screen. Then she stared at the wallpaper — a picture of Hong Kong at night, lit up like a carnival — for a long moment, steam from her tea wafting upwards as she debated this serious breach of trust.

  She was only doing it to look out for them, she rationalized, pulling up the Track My Phone app on her computer. The twins didn’t know she’d installed the app, it was all very discreet from what the guy at the phone store told her. At first, he thought she was trying to catch a philandering husband, but Wendy quickly laughed that off. There had never been any romantic prospects — let alone something serious enough to lead to a husband. She’d always had her hands full trying to make sure the twins didn’t singe off each others’ eyebrows or steal junk from the neighbor’s garage for their latest contraption.

  She smiled, thinking about the robot they’d built with Mr. Carruthers’ scrap — it was meant to be a butlerbot, one that could bring her tea and soup while she was under the weather. Of course, thirteen year-old boys — geniuses though they may be — were not always good at thinking things all the way through.

  Wendy had been a snotty sniffling mess when they introduced the uncoordinated butlerbot and not two minutes later, she had hot soup in her lap and an angry neighbor threatening to have her brothers locked up and sent away for their delinquency.

  She sighed. They always had good intentions, but they needed her to provide perspective. They needed her to watch out for them. No matter how old they got, they were still her baby brothers.

  Without debating it anymore, Wendy opened the app and pulled up their phone locations, lifting the mug to her lips as it loaded.

  Her mug clattered to the desktop, sloshing hot liquid over her hand and making Wendy hiss as her eyes narrowed in on the map.

  They weren’t at the dorm. She absently wiped the desktop with a tissue from the nearby box, frowning at the screen while cleaning the mess.

  Maybe they just went to get some food... she thought to herself, trying to give her brothers the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they wanted to explore campus, she reasoned.

  Before doing anything rash, she whipped out her own phone to text them. Still settling in okay? Find anything we forgot yet?

  Michael texted back first: You? Forget something? Not likely. We’re fine, really.

  Then John: Hitting the books hard. Wouldn’t want to be unprepared the first day of class. Stop worrying.

  Yeah right, Wendy thought with a scowl. They were up to something. They clearly weren’t home studying and they were lying about it.

  She stared at the screen for a long time, watching the dots of their phones move down the map, turning a corner and heading to a seedy part of town. Wendy pursed her lips and pushed her mug away, standing to go drain the tub and blow out the scented candles, killing the warm glow she’d created.

  So much for relaxation.

  Without answering them, Wendy put on a sweater, grabbed her keys and locked the door behind her. She was going to keep her brothers safe if it was the last thing she did — even if she was only protecting them from themselves.

  Chapter 2

  Peter

  “That no-good dirty, rotten scoundrel!” Peter cursed, slamming his fist on the table as the newest advertisement for The Jolly Roger Hotel and Casino played merrily on the screen in front of him.

  Tink sent him a questioning look, one eyebrow raised, her lips pulled into a frown of boredom.

  “Did you see this?” he asked, gesturing wildly at the screen as she filed her nails. Tink shrugged.

  Peter enlarged the screen and restarted the advertisement for Tink’s benefit, but she seemed even less interested as it played on.

  “The greatest show in all of Neverland can only be found at Jolly Roger!” the narrator of the ad said as it drew to a close.

  Tink looked up from her nails, scowling, her face turning crimson. “What did that say?”

  Peter rolled his eyes. “You missed the important part again,” he said, rewinding back thirty seconds to a clip of the show. “There, you see?” He pointed, jabbing his finger at the screen like it was the cause of his torment.

  Tink stood and sauntered over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders as she leaned over his back and squinted at the screen. “Is that Curly?” she asked, her eyes growing wider.

  “And Slim, and Monroe,” Peter said, pointing to them each in turn.

  He watched as his old friends performed their familiar tricks — Slim and Monroe taking turns in a death-defying spinning wheel that rotated high above the stage. A short clip of Curly showed him juggling balls of plasma, the energy glowing hot and blue in his hands. Peter gritted his teeth as the images twisted the knife in his gut.

  “I thought they went missing?” Tink said, pulling back from the screen, her hands still on his shoulders, sliding down toward his chest. Peter shook her off, standing and pacing.

  “Clearly they’re not lost anymore. Hook’s got them at his casino — in his show!” Peter thrust his fingers through his hair, letting out a groan.

  “My best performers, poached right out from under my nose!” he roared, circling the empty green room. Their show was failing with one performer after another disappearing and now this. They weren’t disappearing, they were going to greener pastures.

  Tink’s eyes went wide, her face reddening again as she folded her arms and pouted.

  Peter sighed, his head drooping. “Come on, now. You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, a pleading note in his voice. “You’ll always be my star, Tink, but amazing as you are, you’re not a one-woman show.”

  She turned her nose up at him, huffing.

  “It’s not personal, Tink, but we need more performers, you know that. We’re barely paying our bills as it is and we haven’t sold out in ages.”

  Her eyes still blazed, but she dropped her arms. “What’s your plan?”

  Peter frowned, going back to the screen where Hook’s advertisement waited to be played again. “We’ve gotta beat Hook at his own game,” he said. “We’ve gotta get some new talent and pack the house again.”

  He waited for Tink’s inevitable question — what’s in it for me? — but it didn’t come.

  “Fine,” she gritted out. “But only because he had the nerve to say they have the best show in Neverland. Can’t have the best show without me,” she grumbled, her cheeks still pink.

  Peter grinned. “Most certainly not.”

  “But he’s been snatching up all the talent in Neverland. You’re not going to find anyone here,” she added, her resolve fading.

  Peter nodded. “You’re right. We’re going to have to go somewhere else — and I think I know just the place.” A sly grin spread across his face and as it did, Tinkerbell’s eyes narrowed, her lips pursing.

  “Why do I have a feeling I’m going to hate this idea?”

  “Showtime in five,” Peter said, peeking his head behind the flimsy curtain that cordoned off a changing spot for Tink.

  “What are you doing? You’re not even in costume!” he said, bustling in and thrusting her outfit toward her. “Come on, no time to waste.”

  “I’m not going out there,” she said stomping her heel with a pout.

  Peter sighed. Of all the days for her to be a diva...

  “Alright, I’ll bite. Why not?”

  Tink stood and examined herself in the full-length mirror, running her hands over her hips and backside. “Look at me!” she cried.

 

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