Ends with a Kiss (tack one from Not So All Alone) by Glacis. Rated NC17, no copyright infringement intended. Will make no sense if read without reading the other story first. Probably won't make much sense even then, but hey, it's smut. Sense is optional.

The house was still there (of course). The children were somewhat quieter. Marion still wore rose pink, though not much of it. George still wore blue, happily not much of that, either.

Unfortunately, from the sound of it, George's nightclothes weren't the only thing blue about him. He took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. He looked tired. His shoulders sagged.

"Oh, sweetheart," Marion told him, and Hook smirked at the fact that she didn't call him Darling. "I'm sure that something will come along. You're an intelligent, capable man--"

"Who can't string two words together when faced with a superior," George interrupted her, sounded quite sad indeed, and not a little frustrated. "How on earth am I to provide for eight children, a large dog, a house, a wife, an aunt, and myself, with no job?" he cried softly.

"Oh, love," Marion answered softly, no answer at all, then pulled his head down to rest against her bosom.

Hook licked his lips. It was a beautiful bosom, of course, but that wasn't the reason his mouth was dry. Oh, no. It wasn't even because George had lifted his face to Marion's and kissed her, and Hook could see tongues tangling. Or even because Marion kissed George back quite thoroughly, then wound her arms and legs around him, and they moved quite energetically together for some time while Hook watched avidly.

All right, perhaps that had SOMETHING to do with his licking his lips, but really, it was because he had A Plan.

As soon as Marion fell asleep, he would put it into action.

George, bless his oblivious heart, made it easy. Gently extracting himself from Marion's embrace, George shrugged on his heavy robe and walked over to the window, staring out blindly at the skies. To Hook's great good fortune, not only was this the window by which he hovered, but it was also wide open. Ah, the English and their unnatural attachment to fresh air, even in the full blast of winter.

Hook took full advantage of the circumstances. Swept down. Covered George's mouth with his gloved left hand, wrapped his right arm about George's waist, and carried him away.

George was so gobsmacked he didn't even struggle. He lay against Hook's body still as a statue, only the occasional squeak escaping the muffling glove to show that he still lived. Hook was so happy at his George-napping that he didn't even need to squeeze any more fairies to get them back to his castle, which was just as well, since George was a double-armful, and Smee was dead (and couldn't fly even when he lived), so Hook had no hands left with which to squeeze fairies if he had needed them.

Once back at the dank stone castle, not quite so empty now, Hook deftly tied George to the bed. Then he stepped back and looked him up and down in a proprietary manner. George, wide-eyed and rather myopic, stared back at him. Hook smiled. Posed, showing off his flowing hair and wickedly gleaming hook.

"What in God's name have you done?" George suddenly shrieked. "And who the bloody hell are you?"

Hook winced, shook his head to rid it of the aftershock of that sudden shriek, and waited for the last echoes to stop bouncing off the stone walls.

"Captain James Hook, at your service," he announced in suitably plummy tones. Then he caught himself and smirked. Evilly. "Actually, no, that's not quite right. You, George-my-Darling, are at MY service!"

And so he was. Repeatedly. Until George finally fainted from over-stimulation. As it had been rather a long time since Hook had enjoyed himself in such a manner, it took a few moments for him to realize that George was, in fact, unconscious.

"Blast," he grumbled. "One would think from your appalling lack of stamina, sirrah, that coming seven times in an evening is uncommon!" He thought about it, slowing moving his hips back and forth as he pushed into George's flushed and rather soundly used rump. "Ah, well, eight, including the opener with your dear wife. I suppose that is a bit -- Ooooh! Yes!" His train of thought was at once derailed as he emptied himself deep in George's body. Collapsing against the sweat-slick, slack-muscled heap of exhausted man beneath him, Hook smiled. "Satiation. Another beautiful feeling that irritating Pan will never enjoy." He so loved being a grown-up.

Unfortunately, he couldn't quite get the image of Marion out of his mind. Or the worry with which George had been burdened before Hook took him away from it all and loved the stuffing out of him. There was one thing about being a grown-up... Hook was well aware that problems didn't go away simply by ignoring him. He left that sort of wishful thinking to perpetual children with a knack for memory loss.

So, regretfully withdrawing from George, washing them both quickly and bundling the still-unconscious George in warm clothing (oh, but he'd done a wonderful job wearing George out!), Hook squeezed a few fairies from his hidden stash, and relied on extremely happy memories of riding George into the sunrise to fly them back to London. Slung over his shoulder, he carried a bag of loot from one of the innumerable rooms of plunder at the castle.

Hook had an Addendum to his Plan.

The window was still open, but Marion sat upright, wide awake, staring about the room in a puzzled manner, when Hook flew through the window. It was a tight fit, what with himself, his sword and hat, unconscious George, and the sack of gold, but he made it.

"Good heavens!" Marion whispered. She watched, eyes nearly starting out of her head (yet still looking quite beautiful) as Hook gently lowered George to the bed beside her. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

Oh. Perhaps he should have left the leather cock-ring back at the castle. And while he'd washed them down, it had been in a rather slapdash manner, so the scent of sex did still somewhat linger. Not to mention the finger-shaped bruises on George's thighs. And the large mouth-shaped bruises on his neck. And chest. And nipples. And belly. And...

"Good heavens," Marion whispered again.

It sounded distinctly different this time. Hook ventured a glance over at her. She still stared at George, but the shock was quite gone, replaced by a liquid heat that caused Hook to lick his lips and shift uneasily from foot to foot in an attempt to alleviate some of the sudden tightness in his breeches.

Then Marion looked up at him. The heat flared.

"Good god," she muttered, "you're enough alike to be twins!"

Before Hook could move, Marion was a breath away, her hands tangling in his hair, her eyes raking over his face and body with such force it felt as if they were physically touching him.

"Hello, Captain Hook," she purred, then reached over and bit him. On the side of the neck, right below his jaw, her face pushing into his curls.

It was Hook's turn to squeak. He was quite dizzy, what with all the lovemaking then the flying and now the blood rushing from his head to points south. "Do I know you, madam?" he finally managed to ask, sounding ridiculously breathy even to his own ears.

"Wendy's not the first girl in my family to go to Neverland," Marion informed him before licking his ear and scattering his thoughts completely. "And Peter's not the only one with a memory problem. I see you've finally learned how to fly."

"Has he ever!" George's voice came weakly from the bed, gathering strength with each word. "I say, Marion!" he then exclaimed, causing Marion to pull back from Hook's embrace.

Not that Hook remembered actually embracing her. Oh, but she was stealthy! And sneaky! She'd make a good pirate! She kept one hand on Hook's waist, drawing him with her as she bent to press her mouth to George's.

"Welcome back, my love," she told him as sweetly as ever. "Isn't Neverland quite fantastic?" She reached down with her free hand and ever-so-gently flicked the cock-ring with her fingertips.

George groaned.

So did Hook.

There was nothing to do but to do it, of course, and a pirate is always one to seize his chance when he sees it. Drawing Marion with him, Hook knelt on the bed and lowered his head to kiss George. George instinctively raised his hands to push Hook off; more quickly than the eye could follow, Hook caught both wrists in the curve of his hook and clamped them to the bed above George's head. Objections out of the way, he then took his time and kissed George quite thoroughly.

Marion moaned.

Breaking contact long enough to drag in a breath, Hook glanced up at her in suave invitation. "Join us, my dear?"

The words were scarcely clear of his lips before she was on the bed as well, snuggled up against George's front as Hook aligned himself down George's back.

Several good gropes, many long kisses, quite a lot of nakedness, more twists and thrusts than one could count, and all three of them were moaning. And groaning. And chanting endearments (in Hook's case, curses, but it sounded the same). And collapsing together in a happy, satiated mound, with George still in the middle.

Quite some time later, Marion was kissing Hook as George was licking the side of Hook's throat, hands were lazily roaming, and the sun was breaking over the horizon. Hook's eyes popped open.

"Blast," he mumbled against Marion's mouth. She disengaged her tongue from his and gave him a questioning look. "Looks like I'm caught here for the day. Can't go flying about in broad daylight. The fairies wouldn't cooperate."

"Not like I have to go into work anyhow," George grumbled into Hook's hair. The breath ghosting over his skin made Hook shiver.

"Oh!" he sat up suddenly, prompting twin complaints from George and Marion. Hook grinned at them, not the least bit evilly, although they kindly didn't tell him so. "That reminds me!"

He scrambled off the bed and grabbed his sack of plunder, hauling it back to the bed. Two sets of heated blue eyes watched every move appreciatively. If Hook had known how to blush he would have; as it was, he merely smirked and upended the bag to rain treasure down upon his two lovely Darlings.

"Good heavens!" Marion exclaimed for the third time that evening, but this time with happy shock.

"Well," George said slowly, running his hand through one of the piles of gold coins, "for a return such as this, I suppose I could do a pirate now and then." The look he slanted Hook was delightfully sinful, immediately followed by a politely smoldering look at Marion. "With your permission, my dear."

"Of course, but only if I get to play, too. Or at least watch." She smiled broadly at them both.

"Only fair," Hook agreed. "After all, I've watched you."

That earned him another hour's romp in bed. This time, he was in the middle. By the time Marion went to get the children up, Hook couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. Snuggling up to George, carefully pushing his hook beneath the pillow so as not to accidentally slash anyone, Hook smiled as he dropped a kiss on George's bare shoulder.

Thank God, he thought as he fell into exhausted slumber, thank God I grew up.

END (click here for tack two)