A/N: Thank you lovely followers, reviewers and favs. Time for a little less angst and to explore how a young lad becomes an officer and a gentleman.

Storybrooke

Emma walked towards the sheriff's office in the cool morning air, her coffee in one hand and phone in the other. It just didn't feel right somehow, without a certain pirate swaggering by her side, so she couldn't resist sending off a txt wishing Killian a good morning wherever he was "lurking".

She'd decided to start early at the office for what she hoped would be a day that passed quickly.

At 8.30 she got her first phone call from a very concerned senior citizen, a certain Mrs Hubbard.

"Really," Emma snorted accidently out loud, which did not amuse said caller. It had resulted in a rather lengthy lecture about respecting your elders, before the woman finally got on with the purpose of her call.

She wanted to report a nefarious, swarthy looking tramp loitering in the bay below her cliff side home. The man had recklessly lit a fire, no doubt without a permit. He had been blatantly drinking in a public place and now…..now he was shamelessly skinny dipping in the cove without any thought to her or her poor dog's nerves. She was scandalised and demanded something be done.

Who was Emma to argue with a concerned senior citizen and so she diligently headed for the sheriff's truck. She took an extra set of handcuffs just to be on the safe side, having a strong instinct this "perp' could easily escape the confines of any restraints. Pirate!

While driving out to Mrs Hubbard's address she also said a silent plea that the "vagrant" was by some miracle or magic, still skinny dipping by the time she arrived out there to apprehend him.

Port Regal

Killian became aware of different noises to what he was normally used to in the early hours of the morning. These were the noises of people starting a new day on land, not the familiar noises of ports or ships; the absence of creaking wood or waves being sloshed against a hull felt strange to him. He also found himself awake in a ridiculously soft, clean and comfortable bed. It had been almost three years since he'd last slumbered in such luxuriance and was in no hurry to leave it.

Killian finally sat up and looked around the bedroom, now his room, in the dawn light. He saw artworks on the walls and recognised them as his mother's paintings or sketches. There were also recognisable touches of his father's masculine tastes to the room's decor. He bit his lip as he thought through the implications of being once again surrounded by the domestic familial possessions of a family he had felt utterly severed from for the last two years. It was a bit overwhelming, so Killian puffed out his breath and flopped back onto the pillows, pulling the coverlet over his head in retreat.

Liam also awoke at dawn and thought about what he needed to do as he prepared for the day ahead. Most of it focused around settling Killian into his new life. Liam went over their talks the night before. Once Killian had been able to compose himself, he had busied himself with preparing a simple evening meal from the provisions Liam had procured earlier that afternoon, saying it was something he had often been tasked to help with on Seafoam.

The brothers had then got onto the subject of the battle at Slate Harbour over supper. Neither could believe they were but a few leagues away from each other during that pivotal day. Liam was in awe of how calm Killian was as he divulged the tale of how he acquired his cheek scar and his near escape from the town. The angry youngster from a few hours before was no longer evident in the brother seated opposite Liam (and by the gods he was still so young in years, but so much much older than Liam was at that age). When Killian started showing signs of being tired, Liam helped him to what would become his room and placed Killian's travel sack containing his few worldly possessions in the corner. After some more reassurances and goodnights Liam then retreated with the family sextant out into the parlour. He'd sat in quiet contemplation for a few hours, staring at the familiar ornate instrument and mulled over his new role in life. He was now both a guardian and provider as well as the now (in all probability) most senior Jones in their small family. Much rested on his shoulders and he was grateful that he had indeed inherited his father's broad shoulders to carry out his new family and fraternal duties.

Once Killian was up and dressed in his informal naval uniform Liam took him out to explore the Port Regal he was most familiar with. Fresh pastries were a common enough breakfast fare for most, but to a boy use to stews, bread and hardtack, having something both so sweet and light was a rare treat. Killian had long forgotten that this had once been a regular delicacy for him in Ariston.

After they completed some errands Liam decided it was time for luncheon and was taking Killian towards his favourite establishment. They ran into some of Osprey's warrant officers and another ship's crew jauntily heading towards a tavern opposite them. The men gave greetings to their second in command and their newest recruit. One then winked at Killian and asked if he'd be joining the men. Liam laughed good-naturedly and then found himself suddenly having to grab his brother as Killian eagerly headed in that direction.

"Whoa where do you think you are going little brother?"

"With the others," Killian said as he looked up at his brother whose facial expression clearly indicated that wasn't going to be. "What? Father used to take me to places like that all the time when we were travelling."

Liam raised his eyebrows. "I doubt that Killian."

"Liam we slept in taverns and ate in places a bilge rat wouldn't want to stay in, as I keep saying I'm not some sheltered, naïve, poncey kid anymore."

"Killian that's not a traveller's tavern, that's a brothel." Liam said with some amusement.

"A what? Oh um right." He blushed at his badly timed act of naivety "best not go in there then, must be bloody scary places from what I can gather," he mumbled.

"Scary?"

"Yeah Bryson said the best ones make you scream at the top of your lungs and beg for mercy. Can't imagine why anyone would want to pay doubloons to put themselves through that."

Liam gave a hearty laugh and slapped Killian on the back, it was good to know that despite his brother having experienced the struggles of survival, war and violence he still had some aspects of total innocence left in his youth. No doubt Liam could thank the no nonsense Captain Teal for that.

"This way Killian, you are a Jones, an officer (almost) and a gentleman, so we go where the officers go, to the White Swan." Liam led him away from the other men to a more refined way of spending shore leave.

The White Swan was a bright, airy establishment with a large atrium surrounded by two tiers of verandas, where the diners could sit and relax, either in intimate dining areas or the more communal grand dining terrace. It was a favourite amongst the royal naval officers even during the kingdom's recent austere times.

Abruptly young Killian went from eating ship rations on a rough wooden bench to sitting at a finely laid table with its bewildering array of settings. He struggled at first, always wanting to grab the food with his hands or used only the spoon (stews had figured prominently in his life at sea). Liam patiently helped him remember his gentlemanly ways and even let him have a small glass of light red wine to celebrate his new rank as a midshipman. As he watched his brother try to remaster the lost art of fine dining, Liam decided it might be safe to broach the subject of Killian's future again.

"Do you miss Captain Teal and the Seafoam crew Killian?" he asked. Killian had seemed very at home with the merchant sailors.

"Aye I do," he bit his lip not wanting to appear ungrateful or disloyal "I do miss them, but I wouldn't want to be a merchant sailor for the rest of my life. I do want to be in the royal navy, though I can't understand why we have to wear such bloody daft hats," he said with a pout.

Liam smiled. "So Killian in a year's time you will be able to attend the Royal Naval Academy. Is that what you want to do?"

Killian frowned "How…..how will we be able to afford it Liam?

"I have the means Killian."

"But how. We lost nearly everything, didn't we?"

"Aye almost, but I earn a good living and well I managed to find some of the family silver Father and I buried before the…..well before the estate was looted and burned." Liam had gently told Killian the sobering account of what he had seen upon his brief return to Ariston a few months ago.

"So we have to sell the only things we have left of Ariston?" Killian asked with sadness in his voice.

He realised they no longer had any likeness left of their mother (or father) and few momentoes of their former home.

"I didn't think you were that attached to our grandmother's silver flower vases?" Liam said to lighten the mood.

"Eeww! No definitely not," Killian made a comical face of horror at the ostentatious monstrosities. "That's a family heirloom that won't impress any lady to give her hand in marriage that's for sure; more likely scare her off with our bad taste."

He saw Liam's face twitch.

"Liam, were you going to use the funds for something else. Is there a lady in your life? Are…..are you courting?

Perceptive little blighter Liam mused.

"Aye there may be Killian, but a naval sailor's life is an uncertain thing and I'd like to be more advanced in my career before I settle down, at least a captain."

"Oh!"

Killian wondered if he hindered that in some way for Liam. Would Liam be best rid of him for an opportunity to start his own family, without a little brother in tow?

Liam could read Killian's face as easily as an open book so sought to reassure him once again.

"Killian you realise that if the war had not started you would have ended up at the academy anyway. We may not have a family fortune anymore but we have connections still, Father's reputation will guarantee you a commission."

"No! I don't want that. I want to get there on my own merit, not his," Killian said with a hint of bitterness, not aware of how his father's reputation had already helped him.

Liam sighed. He knew it was pointless to try and change his brother's mind at the moment. No amount of rationalising was going to heal that sore point. Hopefully time would heal its sting.

Not wanting to see Killian fall into one of his moods Liam changed tack.

"We need to get you clothes little brother, so how about we spend the afternoon getting you some new attire?"

Killian became conscious of his appearance. He had noticed they were not able to be as elaborately dressed as some of the other patrons and fortunately having naval uniforms hid the disparity.

He then smiled his rarely seen, gorgeous dimpled smile at the thought of having new clothes.

"I'd like that very much." He had been living in mostly hand me downs from some of the other ship boys since aboard the Osprey, feeling very much the poor relation.

Dress Code

Liam smiled as he viewed himself in his newly tailored jacket that he had ordered last time in port, a dark green with a subtle stripe through it. It highlighted his handsome features, broad shoulders and trim waist but as typical with Liam, it was also a clean, simple cut and practical. He could dress it up or down with his existing wardrobe as the occasion required.

Killian had been kitted out with the necessary layers of clothing he'd need on the open seas as well as some clothes for when on shore leave. He then went exploring for a jacket and vests amongst the available items for younger gentlemen.

When he emerged from the back room sporting his new clothes Liam couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh Killian! Beneath all that salt crust you are still our little Killy aren't you?"

Killian protruded his bottom lip out. "What do you mean? Someone with impeccable taste, brother."

Liam shook his head in amusement. He had grown up with his mother and her artistic friends often cavorting around the manor during their sessions in exotic clothes and fantastical getups. His father had retreated (hid more like it) to the study during these times if home, to content himself with reading the latest fashionable author of witty social satire or some tome on military history. Liam started hiding out with him too, when she tried to entice her son to join her. But had Killian been able to experience these soirees, Liam was certain he would've eagerly donned an exotic turban and silks, totally in his element amongst his mother and her friends.

The boy hadn't been able to resist picking out a richly embroidered copper coloured silk waistcoat and lavish dark jacket with more than a few embellishments on its sleeves and lapels. It did make him look a rather startling, handsome young man, with his long hair tied back in a matching copper ribbon. He always did have a touch of the theatrical. Liam though, knew what his brother needed right now was hard wearing, well made clothes.

"And where do you think you will be wearing that little brother?" he queried.

"Well I must get shore leave sometime."

"Yes but you need practical clothes Killian and you will outgrow these before you know it."

Liam had decided a week ago there was a lot more to being a parent, even in his older brother sense than he had realised. So Killian reluctantly left with a sensible dark dress coat, though at least it sported brass buttons, along with several plain waistcoats to go with his new shirts.

As they left Liam noticed Killian hadn't quite done his shirt up or donned his cravat.

"Killian, do up your shirt buttons."

Killian pouted "I don't want to."

You have a naval rank now Killian, no need to be showing off your luxuriant chest hair like a common sailor anymore brother," Liam teased him.

"But I've finally got a couple." Killian proudly pointed to two small, almost invisible chest hairs.

Liam raised his eyebrows, came to a standstill and then felt his stomach drop in mortification as he suddenly realised he'd probably have to give Killian "that talk' unless Captain Teal had spared him from the task. He blushed at the mere thought of it, remembering how his usually unflappable, confident father had stumbled his way through it awkwardly when Liam was on the cusp of manhood himself, despite their being from a rural estate where some of the more delicate points were no mystery at all.

"Right well," he stammered "just till we return to the ship Killian, then it is back to proper navy attire." He didn't want to dash that proud look on Killian's face; the boy had suffered much deprivation over the last few years so that was probably all he'd ever grow anyway. Liam rubbed his hand over his jaw. Yes, being a parent by proxy was not easy at all.

Walking down the street with their packages, Liam met some fellow lieutenants who were heading to a popular tavern for some entertainment. It was renowned for its musicians so he saw an opportunity to treat his brother further with good music and supper in the respectable place. The late afternoon entertainment wasn't a disappointment and soon the group of young officers were called upon to show their musical abilities to the crowd, which was one of the reasons they liked frequenting the place.

During a lull Killian dared to ask if he may borrow a musician's spare mandolin he had noticed leaning against a wall, suddenly feeling the itch in his fingers to play again.

It had been ages since he played but Killian braved the expected rustiness and was soon softly humming a ballad as he remembered the thrum of the strings beneath his nimble fingers. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he saw Liam look down and nod to him in encouragement. So he started to play a tune they both knew well. He had forgotten Liam's clear singing voice and was pleased to hear it again. Killian's voice was prone to turning into a squeak at the most unpredictable times, so he contently hummed in harmony to Liam's fine tenor.

It was the first time in over three years the brothers felt a sense of normality, though their lands and fortune were gone, their father's fate unknown, they at least had each other and a future to look forward to.

Later that evening Killian carefully unwrapped the clothes parcel and placed his new items in a chest of draws. He gasped as he unexpectedly pulled out the beautiful copper silk waistcoat. A note fell to the floor written in Liam's handwriting.

"Something for your coming birth date and the ones I've missed. Love Always Your Big Brother."