"Awesome?" Peter asked, unsure about that word, though it sounded as if it meant that something was very good. He took the marshmallow between his finger and gave it a gentle squeeze, laughing at the spongy feel of it between his fingers. "A marsh mellow?" he repeated, laughing again at the sound of the word before popping the entire thing into his mouth. He chewed and nodded his head enthusiastically at the sweet, spongy taste of it. "S'good!" he mumbled around a mouthful of the sweet, sticky stuff.

"Awesome is a word that means even better than good," Ash explained with a grin as he scarfed down the whole thing in one go. She dropped a marshmallow onto the top of each cup of cocoa. "Let it melt a bit, and then you can drink the cocoa through the sticky goo." She glanced over at James. "You okay there, baby?"

"Aye, just making sure Miss Poopy Pants is clean," James replied, before returning with Cora on his arm and a bottle in his hand. He claimed a seat at the table before offering Cora the bottle, the little girl greedily latching on.

"I've never seen a new one up close before," Peter said, as he took up his mug with both hands and sipped at the hot cocoa, leaving a little brown mustache above his upper lip. He made an appreciative sound at the taste of it. "Mmm, it is awesome, Mama!"

Sliding down into a seat at the table with her little family, Ash sipped from her own cup, smiling as Peter enthused about his cocoa. "I'm glad you like it," she chuckled. "Haven't decided what we're making for dinner yet, but it'll be an adventure all on its own with me cooking." She wasn't a bad cook, just a noisy, messy one. "So what is the verdict on taking a bath' Not as bad as you thought?"

"No, it was fun!" Peter enthused, though it was uncertain he would feel the same once he realized he had to repeat the task every other night or so. "The bubbles were fun and it smelled nice, too!"

"I'll buy you some bubble bath that doesn't smell so ....girly tomorrow," James promised. "And we'll have to get you some clothes, too." And that was just for starters.

"There are lots of bubble baths," Ash agreed. "You can choose one that just yours, that smells just the way you want to. And my mother wants to meet you, too. She's invited us to dinner tomorrow." She flicked a curious glance at James - was that a good idea, or a bad idea"

James met her gaze with a light shrug. That all depended on how much Ashlyn's mother wanted to smother the boy. "Tomorrow is a bit soon," he said, though he supposed word was going to get around Maple Grove quickly about Peter's arrival and it was probably better he met her sooner, rather than later. They hadn't been prepared for a small boy to come into their lives so unexpectedly. "How are you feeling, Peter?" he asked, surprised to find himself actually concerned for the boy's well-being.

Peter shrugged, as he gulped down half the cup of cocoa. "A little tired," the boy admitted. It had been a long day, after all, and he had run the gamut of emotions.

"I'll call her," Ash promised, unable to resist stroking her fingers through Peter's now soft, clean hair as she leaned back in her chair comfortably. "Maybe she could pop by for a visit tomorrow, and we can arrange dinner some other time" After all, we've got a lot of people to show you off to, little man."

"Whatever you want, Mama," Peter replied, agreeably, slurping down the remainder of his hot cocoa. "Can I have some more, please?" he asked, holding the mug out once it was emptied, a sweet smile on his face.

James exchanged glances with Ashlyn again, one dark brow quirked upwards. He saw no harm in letting the boy have another cup of hot cocoa, seeing as he'd never had it before, but then they didn't want him to spoil his dinner either.

She laughed softly. "Just this once, you can finish mine," she told Peter, nudging her half-full mug toward him. "Cocoa's a treat, so we only have one cup at a time usually. But today's a special kind of day, so you can have half of mine." Smiling, she gently wiped a trickle of chocolate from his chin.

Peter beamed a happy smile back at her, as bright as sunshine, already in love with his new mother, though he had only just met her a few hours ago. What wasn't to love about her" Winning James' heart might be a little more of a challenge, but so far, the ex-pirate had been nothing if not kind and caring. "Thank you, Mama!" he told her, lifting his chin so she could wipe the chocolate from his face.

Ash grinned back at him, moving to rise to her feet to inspect the contents of their cupboards. She flashed James a cheeky smile on her way past, dipping to kiss his temple affectionately before applying herself to the prospect of dinner. "What about ....spaghetti carbonara?" she suggested after a quick perusal of the shelves.

"What's sketti carbo ....carbo ..." Peter attempted to ask, stumbling over the long word, even as he furrowed his brows in concentration. The long word just didn't want to come out of his mouth properly. If he didn't know what spaghetti was, there was no chance he was going to have any clue about the different dishes that could be made with it.

"It's a type of pasta," James explained, not quite realizing that wasn't going to tell him much.

"This stuff," Ash said, pulling the packet out of the cupboard. She pulled a piece free, leaning over to hand it to him. "You can't eat it like that, but when you cook it, it goes soft and chewy. Carbonara is the sauce I'll make to put on it."

Peter examined the piece of uncooked spaghetti, which didn't look very appetizing to him the way it was. "It looks like a stick," he said, breaking the piece in half and in half yet again.

"It does," Ash agreed with a grin, half filling a pan with hot water and setting it on the stove. "It doesn't taste too good like that, either." She measured out the spaghetti using the age-old method of how much fits in my hand, and set it into the water to do its thing.

That sounded almost like a dare to Peter, and he was not one to ignore a dare. He bit into the stick of uncooked spaghetti, pausing a moment to weigh the flavor while he chewed. "It tastes like a stick," he decided once he'd swallowed it.

On the opposite side of the table, James chuckled. "You're not supposed to eat it like that, Peter."

Laughing, Ash tipped a salute to the boy now crunching on raw pasta, whisking together the various ingredients for the sauce as bacon lardons sizzled in a separate pan on the stove. "I promise it tastes better cooked," she assured him, glancing over at James curiously. "How is her highness doing over there?"

"What is that smell?" Peter interrupted as the scent of bacon cooking reached his nose. He'd never smelled anything quite like it, though he and the Boys had hunted for wild boar and other wild animals on the island.

James pulled the bottle from Cora's mouth and laid her over his shoulder to coax a burp from her, setting the bottle on the table so that Ashlyn could see just how well their little piggy was doing. "I almost forgot to burp her!" he replied with a chuckle at their daughter's fondness for her dinner.

"I'm very glad you like it," Ash beamed back at him. No fear of him eating too quickly with spaghetti, either - each forkful took a fair amount of effort to get to his mouth. She looked at James thoughtfully. "So I guess we're going into town tomorrow to pick up a few things the little master here needs?"

"Aye, seems that way," James replied, not unhappy about the prospect, but not necessarily overjoyed about it either. The fact was he was even more perplexed about the newest addition to the family than the new addition himself.

"It shouldn't be too hard," she commented, pausing to wipe sauce off her own chin. "Clothes, shoes, toys, and a couple of things to brighten the bedroom' Does that sound like the right kind of thing?"

James arched a brow, mostly at the suggestion of toys. What kind of toys do you buy for the boy who refused to grow up" A boy whose favorite toy was probably a dagger" A boy who could fly and had had a fairy for a best friend" But James didn't comment on that, as he had other more pressing concerns. "Are we putting him in the guest room?" he asked, curiously.

"His bedroom, yes," Ash corrected him gently. She tilted a curious glance toward her husband, not entirely sure what was going on there. He was the one who had brought Peter home and told her they were going to be the boy's family now, but James seemed to be struggling with the permanency of that declaration now.

"Aye, his bedroom," James echoed, still not quite believing it. How long before Peter decided he didn't want to grow up and flew out the window" Or until he tried to chop James' hand off again, in a fit of anger" And yet, there was a part of him that felt sympathetic toward the boy. He just couldn't quite wrap his head around it yet. Beside them, the boy had grown quiet - a little too quiet - and James turned his head to find Peter resting his head on his arm and quietly snoring.

Ash followed his gaze, a soft sound of amusement leaving her lips at the sight of the little boy fast asleep on his own arm at the table. "Oh dear," she smiled, shaking her head. "I guess I should put him to bed, huh?"

James thought about volunteering to do it himself, but he still had Cora on his shoulder, and he thought it was more important for Peter to bond with Ashlyn than with him. "Aye, it's been a long day," he said, softening a little at the sight of the little boy asleep at the table.

"For you as well, you know," she pointed out gently, leaning over to brush her lips against his temple. "Won't be long." Rising, she carefully drew Peter up, looping his arms about her neck to lift him and tuck his legs around her waist. "C'mon, sweetheart, bedtime."

Peter muttered something indistinct under his breath as Ash picked him up, while James watched, that perplexed look still on his face, despite Ashlyn's reassurance.

"It seems you have a big brother, Cora," he told her as he picked her up to change her diaper and get her ready for bed.

It was more of an effort to carry a sleepy boy upstairs and into his own bedroom than Ashlyn had realized, but somehow she managed it without dropping him. He landed on the bed with a bit of a thump, but thankfully the pillows were soft enough to absorb that impact as she carefully guided his legs underneath the covers. Her fingers gently stroked his hair from his brow as she watched him, leaning close to kiss his head. "Good night, little man," she whispered to her newfound son. "Sweet dreams."

At any other time, Peter might have asked her to stay and sit with him awhile and tell him a story, but tonight, just like any other small boy his age, he was too tired to resist the pull of sleep. By the time Ash returned, James had already tucked Cora into bed and was working on cleaning up the dishes.

As she wandered into the kitchen, Ash picked up the cloth to dry the dishes as he washed them. "Out like a light," she told her husband. "So ....what?s bugging the captain?" She eyed him with a gentle smile. "What happened over there, Jamie?"

James practically winced at her question, though he knew it was coming. He wasn't sure if she was asking about what had happened most recently in Neverland or two centuries ago. "He chopped off my hand and threw it to the croc is what happened," James said, unable to correlate what had happened then and what was happening now.

"Hey." Putting the cloth down, she touched his shoulder, urging him to turn and look her in the eye. "That's not what I asked. And if that's really how you feel about that little boy, how dare you offer him a home with us" Sort it out, Jamie. Talk to me."

James sighed, knowing he had to sort his own feelings out sooner or later or he'd never be a good father, not only to Peter, but to Cora, too. "Do you know what Barrie wrote in his book?" he asked as he turned to face her, the dishes forgotten for the moment. "He wrote that Captain Hook hates children and children hate him. That's me, Ash. I'm Captain Hook."

Ash stared at him. "So help me, James Radcliffe, if you justify throwing that kid out to another family because of that book, I will slap you so hard," she warned, though there was little heat in her voice. "It's done. I know the book's a lie. You know the book's a lie. Hell, I bet even Peter would point out the lies. So forget the damned book, would you? It has no bearing on this situation. This is about you and him, the reality."

"He still cut off my hand, Ash," James said, remembering how delighted Peter had been when he'd noticed that hand had been healed somehow. Could it be Peter felt remorseful about it' James wasn't sure Peter was capable of feeling remorseful about anything. "I've been thinking about whether this was meant to happen all along."

"Yeah, he cut off your hand," she said, and given the brittleness of her voice, that was something she was struggling with, too. "But I can't exorcise that memory, Jamie. That's something you and he need to talk about. And no, he might not feel sorry for it. Because he's a child - children don't understand consequences very well, and as far as he's concerned, it's all fine anyway, because you got your hand back. His understanding of what happened and how it affected you is going to be very different to yours."

James sighed again and dropped into a chair. "I know. I know what he told me, and I know he's lonely. He said his mother abandoned him when he was a baby and that Tinker Bell brought him to Neverland. Gods, it sounds preposterous talking about it, doesn't it' But I've been there, Ash. And if that's true, then he never had a choice, did he" He never had a mother or a family to love him. What if he's telling the truth' What if all these years, that's all he's wanted" What kind of monster would I be to tell him no?" He ran a hand through his hair, clearly perplexed and struggling to reconcile the past with the present.

"You're not a monster, Jamie," she told him, crouching down between his knees, her arms on his thighs as she looked up into his eyes. "But if you can't handle him staying, then ..." She hesitated. The thought of hurting a child was painful, but Peter wasn't her son. Not yet. James was her husband, the father of her daughter. "We'll have to make the decision tonight, before he gets too attached to us."

"Aren't I?" James echoed back at her. "All these years I've called him a demon child, when he's only just a little boy who's never had a mother or father to teach him right from wrong. How can I turn him away when ..." He trailed off, needing a moment to steady his voice. "He's lost, Ash. Broken. Maybe we both are. Maybe we need this. Maybe this is how we heal, how we go on. Maybe I just need to forgive him. I don't know. He asked me to be his father. Me, of all people. Maybe all he wants is to be loved. I just ....It will take time. That's all."