Full Summary: Who knew how challenging it could be to run a funeral home with his brother while raising a daughter who's growing up way too fast?

In order to lift some of the responsibilities off Killian's shoulders, Liam hires a mortuary beautician so his brother doesn't miss out on the finer aspects of being a single parent. Killian's initially opposed to the idea of hiring someone to do a job he can easily do himself, but when they hire Emma Swan, she might just have the right touch to put some life into the funeral home and add a little light to the darkness that's been looming over the house since Killian's wife died.

Emma's been living in her camper, trying to find her roots while pursuing her dream to go to Hollywood. But when an opportunity literally knocks on her door, she decides to give Storybrooke a shot. As a cosmetologist, her job is to beautify people; she's just not used to her clients missing a heartbeat. But it turns out, a funeral home and the people who live there make her feel more at home than she's ever felt before. Besides, who needs glamor, glitz and celebrities when you can have doom and gloom and lifeless corpses? Not to mention a pain-in-the-ass boss who criticizes everything she does. My Girl AU.

A/N: I'm not sure what possessed me to write this, but I was thinking about this movie a few weeks ago and rewatched it. Then this fic happened. And don't worry, it doesn't follow the movie scene by scene, it focuses on the adults more than the children, so I can assure you, Henry doesn't die from bee stings. The fic will talk about death and embalming (while doing research and watching videos, I learned way too much about the embalming process) but that's to be expected with a story that takes place in a funeral home.

A shout out to Hollye for helping me brainstorm and for the name, Beatrice. I was trying to think of a good name for Killian and Milah's daughter, and she pointed out it could be a female spin on Bae. Also a huge thank you to Cathy and Marta for beta reading!

"Papa, did you hear the news about Henry?" Killian's eleven-year-old daughter climbs up onto the kitchen stool, her long, dark hair falling around her shoulders.

As he grabs the frying pan from the stove and transfers the scrambled eggs to a plate of buttered toast and sausage, he eyes her curiously. Whatever the news is, it can't be too bad, considering there isn't a hint of sadness or worry on her face. In fact, the way she looks at him with those big, sparkling blue eyes and an eagerness to keep his attention, reminds him so much of her mother, it makes his heart swell. And it doesn't help that she wears her mother's ruby red class ring around her finger.

Milah died of postpartum cardiomyopathy days after giving birth to Beatrice. Her condition had been misdiagnosed as a typical pregnancy in her third trimester. Symptoms such as frequent night-time urination, fatigue, shortness of breath even when lying down, low blood pressure, heart palpitations and swollen ankles had all been written off by her doctor.

Killian was so angry and upset after he lost Milah, he threatened to sue the hospital and called her doctor a quack to his face. Luckily, his brother was there to talk some sense into him. Liam may be a stubborn arse at times, but he's always been there for Killian. He'd been there to help Killian change his daughter's diapers when he had no clue what he was doing; he was there to help him plan his wife's funeral. He'd been there for Beatrice's first steps and her first words and every other milestone she's experienced. Of course, it helps that Liam lives here with them and is typically always available when needed. Still, Liam has never once turned his back on his brother or niece, and for that, Killian will be forever grateful.

"What news, Birdie?" he asks, placing the plate in front of her and planting a kiss on the top of her head as he runs a hand through her hair.

Beatrice grabs her fork and takes a bite of scrambled egg, mumbling her answer. "Henry found his mum."

"How many times have I told you not to eat with your mouth full?" Killian grabs a small glass from the cupboard and fills it with orange juice, cocking a brow at her. "I wasn't aware the mayor was missing."

She shakes her head as he sets the cup next to her plate. "No, his real mum."

Normally, Killian would argue and say an adoptive mother is a real mum in just about every sense of the word, but they're talking about Regina, who's not exactly what he would consider mother of the year. Henry spends most of his time here at a funeral home—where there's almost always a dead person in one room or the other—rather than at his own home, which says a lot. Killian fills his mug with fresh coffee. "Is that so?"

She cocks her head to the side and gives him a deadpan look. "Papa, would I lie to you?"

"Lie about what?" Liam's deep voice booms through the kitchen as he enters with the newspaper under his arm and a mug in the other hand. "Morning, little love." He drops a kiss to the crown of her head and nods at Killian. "Little brother."

Killian and his daughter both groan.

"It's younger brother."

"And I'm not little, Uncle Liam. I'm a young lady."

Liam chuckles and shakes his head as he takes a seat on the stool across from his niece as he looks over at Killian. "She may look like her mother, but she certainly gets her sass from you."

Killian rolls his eyes at his brother and grabs two plates, filling them with the breakfast he'd prepared.

"We were talking about Henry finding his biological mum," Beatrice answers her uncle, taking a sip of her drink. When she sets down the glass, she licks the orange juice mustache off her upper lip. "He found her through a website called , got on a bus, went to Boston and knocked on her door."

Liam sets down his newspaper, just as intrigued by this conversation as Killian is.

"Wait, you're talking about your friend, Henry..." Killian's brows are knitted with confusion as he hands Liam a plate of food, "...who's ten years old?" He takes the stool next to her, setting down his plate and coffee mug. "He just got on a bus and went to Boston? By himself?" His heart clenches at the thought of his daughter doing something like that. He doesn't even know what he'd do if that happened. He'd be so out of his mind with worry, he'd end up in an insane asylum. But he guesses that's the difference between him and Henry's mother, Regina.

She bobs her head. "Yep. When Henry didn't return home by his curfew, Regina called the Sheriff to report him missing. But by the time Graham showed up, Henry returned with his mum."

Killian exchanges a look with his brother. "That's bloody frightening to think about." He looks at Beatrice. "If you ever did something like that, I'd have a heart attack, and your uncle would be planning my funeral."

Beatrice rolls her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Papa."

"Call it whatever you want, but it's true."

"My niece is right. You're a drama queen," Liam teases, taking a sip of his coffee.

Killian scowls and shoves a forkful of egg into his mouth. "I am not a drama queen."

Liam looks at Beatrice sternly. "He's right about one thing, though. If you ever went missing, we'd go crazy and turn Maine upside down looking for you."

She sighs dramatically. "Don't worry, I'm not going to run away."

"How did Henry even get the money to pay ? Wouldn't that require a credit card?"

"He stole our teacher's card from her purse."

Killian's mouth falls open in shock. It's unlike Henry to do something like that. "Which teacher?"

"Mrs. Nolan."

"Well, it's a good thing he stole from someone as nice as her. I doubt she'd press charges."

"According to Henry, his mum is going to the school with him to pay her back."

"Well, that's decent of Regina to do."

Beatrice shakes her head. "Not Regina. Emma."

"You mean Henry's biological mum?" Liam asks before taking a bite of toast.

"Yes. Henry told me via Google chat."

"Well, if you ask me, that's the least she could do, considering she gave up her own child," Killian grumbles into his coffee mug.

"She was seventeen when she had Henry. She was trying to give him his best chance."

"Giving him his best chance would be keeping him, if you ask me. Regina doesn't give two bloody shites about him."

"She's the mayor. She has the weight of the entire town on her shoulders. That's a tremendous responsibility." Beatrice grabs the jar from the middle of the kitchen island and places it in front of her father. "And that's a quarter in the swear jar."

Killian sighs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Bloody hell." He'd started the swear jar years ago to prevent sailor talk around his daughter, from both him and Liam. But obviously, it doesn't work very well.

"That's fifty cents," Liam points out with a shit-eating grin.

Killian grabs two quarters and tosses them onto the mountain of coins already in the jar. "It's a miracle I'm not broke by now."

Beatrice shrugs. "You could always stop cursing."

Liam stabs a piece of sausage and points it at her. "The little lady's right." He shoves the sausage into his mouth as Beatrice rolls her eyes.

"It's young lady."

"So is this Emma staying in Storybrooke now?" Killian asks curiously.

"I think so. She almost went back home, but Henry begged her to stay. Regina wasn't happy about it, but if there's anyone who can make demands from the queen of Storybrooke, it's her ten-year-old son."

"Must be nice to just pick up everything, quit your job and leave everything else behind at the drop of a hat," Killian says sarcastically. "Some people actually have responsibilities."

Beatrice shrugs. "She's a hair and makeup artist. She could probably get a job anywhere."

Liam arches a brow, his interest piqued. "A hair and makeup artist?"

Killian scoffs and waves a dismissive hand. "Please, that's the most useless job there is."

Liam cocks his head, glaring at his brother. "You of all people know that's not true. Don't you do hair and makeup on your clients and make them look presentable to their loved ones?"

"Aye, but that's different. I cover up injuries and wounds, reminders of what killed them. Living people don't need makeup; they only wear it to look pretty." Killian goes back to eating his breakfast as Liam continues to glare at him.

"There are many reasons people wear makeup. Whether it be to feel better about themselves, to look nice for a special occasion, hide blemishes or rosacea, or because they simply want to. Emma helps people do that." Liam wags a finger. "And you know what, depending on whether her experience and qualifications align with our needs, we could use her."

Killian looks up at his brother and furrows his brows. "Use her for what?"

"For our beautician opening."

Killian freezes, the hand that's holding his fork pausing mid-air. "What beautician opening?"

Liam holds up the newspaper and points at the Classifieds section. "The one I posted an ad for."

Killian reaches across the bar counter, rips the paper from his brother's hands and scans the classifieds.

Sure enough there's a posting for a beautician for Jones Parlor. Killian lowers the paper, glaring at his brother. "Why do we need to hire someone for a job I already do?"

Liam looks over at Beatrice and clears his throat as though he doesn't want to say his reasons in front of her. He returns his eyes to Killian. "I just think it will take some of the load off your shoulders, that's all."

Running the funeral home is supposed to be a team effort. Even though Liam carries out most of the administrative tasks, including the hiring, and Killian does more of the grunt work, the decisions should be both of theirs, not just Liam's. Killian points at himself, a mixture of anger and disbelief spiraling through him. "But you didn't discuss this with me."

"Because I wanted to find someone good for the job first and prove to you how handy that person would be. I knew you wouldn't approve otherwise."

"It doesn't matter if you found someone or not. I won't approve either way. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of the makeup and hair."

"I know you are, Killian. That's not what this is about."

Killian shrugs. "Then what's it about?"

Liam waves off his question. "Nothing. Just forget about it. You're right. We don't need to hire an outsider." He grabs the paper from Killian and folds it up. "I'll have the ad cancelled."

"Thank you." Killian returns to his breakfast, stabbing aggressively at his eggs.

"So where is Emma staying now?" Liam asks Beatrice curiously. "I doubt Regina is letting her stay with her and Henry."

"In her camper."

Killian arches a brow. "A camper?"

"Yeah, you know, an RV. Like the one we rent every summer to go camping in."

"Aye, but isn't there a zoning law against parking a camper in the streets?" Liam points out.

"Regina said she could park in her driveway overnight, but that she would have to move her camper elsewhere come morning. Besides, she's best friends with Sheriff Graham, so I'm pretty sure he wouldn't fine Emma if Regina asked him not to."

Killian scoffs and lifts his coffee mug to his lips. "Best friends? More like…" He refrains from finishing his sentence by taking a sip of his coffee. Even if Beatrice knew what fuck buddies meant, it's not appropriate to say it in front of her. Besides, that would probably cost him more than a quarter to the swear jar.

"More like what?" Beatrice asks curiously.

Damn.

He should know by now not to speak his mind in front of his daughter. She's too smart for her own good.

"More like a special friend," Liam replies for him.

Beatrice's dark brows scrunch together in confusion. "What's the difference?"

"A special friend is just like a best friend, except they engage in...more adult-like activities," Liam explains carefully.

Killian takes another sip of his coffee.

"You mean they're friends who see each other naked without being boyfriend and girlfriend, right?"

He chokes on his coffee and gapes at his daughter as Liam dissolves into hearty laughter. "How do you know that?"

She rolls her eyes and takes a drink of orange juice. "I may be eleven, but I'm not a nitwit."

"She has a point there, Killian. Our lass is no dummy."

"I know that, but I haven't taught her about the birds and the bees yet," Killian reminds him.

"Aye, and perhaps you should've before she heard about it from her friends."

"She's too young. She's not getting married until she's at least thirty."

"You don't know that. Besides, you need to prepare her for the real world. Because you and I both know, not everything is unicorns and rainbows, even when you're young."

Killian sighs as he cleans up his coffee mess with a paper towel. But Liam's right. He and Killian were both young when their mum died of cancer. Their papa dealt with his loss by opening up a funeral business. He thought he could numb his own pain and loss by focusing on others' pain and loss. After he died, his two sons took it over. Killian and Liam both know Brennan died of alcohol poisoning, but they made Beatrice believe he died of a broken heart, which isn't too far from the truth. When Brennan realized he couldn't numb his pain and heartache, he turned to alcohol. He might as well have put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. It would've been quicker and less painful. Now the brothers run the funeral home together. Liam helps the families of the deceased plan and prepare the funeral arrangements while Killian acts as the mortician, or as he prefers, undertaker, performing embalmings, making the bodies presentable to their loved ones and preparing them for burial services. Or as the brothers like to put it—Liam takes care of the living and Killian takes care of the dead.

"Would you two stop fighting over me?" Beatrice presses the pads of her fingers to her temples. "You're giving me an aneurysm. It's bad enough I probably have cancer."

Killian buries his face in his hands and shakes his head. One of the "perks" of raising a daughter in a funeral home is that she's learned many ways people can die, so she always thinks she has some type of illness herself. Killian likes to think it's her way of empathizing with the dead, much like he empathized with the deceased before he studied mortuary science and learned to have compassion rather than empathy. So instead of focusing on death and loss like his father did, he focuses on the positive outcomes, like the fact that the deceased no longer has to suffer or that a donor recipient will get to live when they receive an organ from their donor. Or that one doctor's negligence resulted in his wife giving her life to a beautiful baby girl.

Killian stands from his stool and gathers the dirty dishes. "Now, what makes you think you have cancer this time?"

"Because my left breast is developing at a significantly faster rate than my right."

He doesn't even dignify that with a response, and all Liam can do is chuckle.

Killian shakes his head and drops a kiss to her forehead. "Okay, I think it's time for you to go to school, love."

A/N: A fun fact: If you've seen the movie, you know there is no swear jar; I wrote about the swear jar for sailor talk because of The New Girl and because I knew Killian would be dropping his bloody hell bombs in front of Beatrice and so I thought it would be funny for his daughter to call him out on it and tell him to put a quarter in the swear jar. Well, after I wrote about the swear jar, I was reading trivia about the movie and I kid you not, I learned the cast had a swear can for "trucker talk" as Dan Aykroyd called it, so I just thought that was funny that I thought to include it without knowing it's something they actually did while filming.

Anyway, thanks for reading!