Sylvie shifted in her chair, trying to get comfortable. The hotel she had chosen in Dover was comfortable and had given her connecting rooms so that she could keep an eye on her brood. Roger and Trevor were quite good about taking care of Mavis, and even Doreen when she wasn't fussing. But Brian, her newest, he needed to be near her. A crib near her bed served for that, Brian was a hungry boy and often needed to be nursed in the middle of the night. The trip to Dover had been a risk, but given how healthy he was, Sylvie was sure he would be fine.

Her husband, on the other hand, he would need to be taken care of. Sylvie could still remember his letters, hoping that she would have a girl and relieve him of the burden of being a masculine ideal for yet another son. He would have preferred to have another girl who resembled her mother, all dark curls and fair skin.

When she had informed him of the birth of their third son, he had wisely not mentioned his previous wish.

But he had begged for them to come for a visit, he missed them all so dearly. Mavis and Doreen needed to have their Papa there to listen to all their stories and Roger and Trevor should see his new ship. For his actions and service, he'd been promoted to command of a destroyer and he was inordinately proud of the fact. He'd be returning from a patrol in a few days and had managed to get leave, hence her presence here.

But when Sylvie stepped down into the hotel lobby, her children trailing behind her, she noticed that the other guests appeared far more on edge than she had been expecting. The chairs near the windows were all abandoned, and people clustered as far away from the door as they could. She paused near the front desk, "Excuse me, but what is going on?"

The managed swallowed, "We've had reports of German aeroplanes nearby, or maybe a zeppelin. I'm not sure which, things were rather scrambled."

Sylvie glanced to the high windows, "Well, perhaps we should have a look. Can you have tea set up on the verandah this afternoon? And bring some pen and paper, I should like to have a look around." She didn't wait to hear whatever protestations were coming, for her children needed to exercise.

There was a local park nearby, just the thing for the boys to run around. A few local children were already there, and quickly absorbed them into a game of tag. The girls were still a bit too young to join in the rather rough match, but Sylvie managed to find them a bench out of the way. Mavis had a primer with her and worked on sounding out her words with Doreen's help, leaving Sylvie to tend to Brian.

He had been the smallest of her children at birth, but he seemed determined to make up for that. After only a month he had put on a good amount of weight, enough that her arm was often sore if she held him for too long. But he was a darling little thing, wispy brown hair and bright eyes that seemed to take in the world. His brothers were pleased to have a third boy to play with, while his sisters were less enthused. But her husband, oh she knew he would grouse about his future responsibilities but he would love Brian like he loved the others.

Being in the Dover Patrol meant she saw Bertie more often, but did she ever worry about him. In his little torpedo boat he had at least been fast enough, and small enough, to not draw the attention of any U-boats, but now he commanded a destroyer. She still remembered Bertie relating the attack on the ship Will had served on, how they made a tempting target. The loss of one escorting destroyer would free up a gap for a U-boat to attack the troopships she was guarding.

It was far more dangerous, hence the fact that his pay had improved. He sent the majority home to her, keeping only a bit of pocket change for himself, and that amount had grown in the past months. Still, it was not as much as when he had worked for White Star. Anna's supply of food was a godsend, especially with five to clothe and care for. As much as Sylvie wanted the war to end for her husband to come home, she also wanted his higher salary to resume.

Brian didn't notice the way she bit her lip at the thought that passed through her mind, content to enjoy the weak winter sun while his mother worried. Sylvie couldn't help but be concerned that once the war was over, White Star wouldn't hire her husband back. Bertie had proved himself as a sailor during the war, he was a Captain now and likely would want to be bumped up in rank. But the specter of Titanic hung over him in the Line's eyes. Will was evidence enough of that they would do to someone associated with that ship, it was only by the grace of God that Bertie had been demoted and not fired. She knew it did little good to worry about that now, when peace was still a dream, but she couldn't help it.

Without a job, Bertie would go mad. He loved sailing, sometimes she would tease him that he loved the sea more than her. If he was removed from a job that he loved, it would break his heart. Of course, they would figure something out, she and Bertie could be quite resourceful when needed. But she wanted him to do what he loved. Sylvie shook her head, those were thoughts for another time. Now she needed to collect her children and head back for tea, keeping an eye out for those German aeroplanes.

The sky was clear as they stepped out onto the verandah of their hotel, the only guests taking advantage of the sunny day. Her boys were perfect gentlemen, pouring for their sisters and waiting their turn to fill their plates with jam sandwiches while Brian dozed in the basinet that had been left. It was while Sylvie was pouring her own cup that she heard the first thrum in the air. At the start it sounded like nothing so much as a buzzing fly, only it kept growing louder and louder. More buzzes joined it, drawing the attention of her children. Roger was scanning the sky, "Is it a zeppelin, Mother?"

"Aeroplanes, my dear." Sylvie stood, going to the railing. "Much smaller and faster. But we have nothing to fear, they won't want to get us."

Trevor joined her, looking for any sign of the planes. "Why not?"

"Because, then your father would be quite cross and attack them like he did the zeppelin." Sylvie crouched down, pointing out the small dot that was slowly growing larger. "Besides, they want to try and sink the ships in the port. They don't care about us."

"Will someone stop them?" Mavis had joined in, tracing the line of planes as they approached. A sudden popping filled the air, black bursts of smoke in the air and the rat-a-tatting of machine guns. Mavis grabbed at her skirts, "Mama!"

Sylvie wrapped an arm around her daughter, "Hush, child. Those are our guns, they're protecting us. There's nothing to fear from them."

"It's okay, Mav." Roger came over, "Let's see if we can count the planes. Maybe they'll get one, wouldn't that be grand?"

Sylvie clapped her hands, smiling. "An excellent idea. I want you all to count the planes, then we can try and figure out where our guns are. We can show your father a map, he'll be very proud to see it." What followed was fifteen minutes of hushed conversations between her children, debating if they had counted the same plane twice or if a gun was located on a ship or on a pier. Sylvie kept track of it all, tracing out a quick map of Dover and marking down their guesses. Soon enough the aeroplanes were chased off, one sputtering smoke and flying decidedly lower than his fellows.

When they sat down to dinner later it was all the children wanted to talk about, and they were still keen on it the next day when they flocked down to the harbor. She could see Bertie standing there proudly beside his new destroyer, the Falcon, but the dignified officer quickly turned into an excited father as he collected his children to him. Roger and Trevor were spun around, Mavis and Doreen had their turn, and then Brian was hoisted up for inspection. He smirked at her, "He's a big lad."

"He's been growing." Sylvie teased, stepping forward to kiss him. "He was a bit small when he was born, but he seems determined to grow like a weed."

Roger was pulling at his father's trousers. "He didn't even cry when we were watching the aeroplanes yesterday!"

"Watching the aeroplanes?" Bertie's brow furrowed for a moment and then his eyes went wide with realization. "You mean the Germans? I heard about them trying to bomb the city yesterday."

"They couldn't do anything!" Trevor grinned, reaching up to grab his father's hand. "Can you show us the guns on your ship, Papa? We were watching the guns fight the planes yesterday."

Bertie looked over to Sylvie, his eyes narrowed. "We will be talking, privately, after our tour." Sylvie simply smirked as he began to lead them all on a tour of the ship, kindly keeping away from any areas where ladders were required as her foot was not in the mood for those at the moment. The children bubbled over with questions, the boys demanding to see the guns enough that Bertie eventually sent them away with one of the gunnery officers. The girls were quite happy when a steward asked if they would like to help with laying out lunch for all of them in the wardroom, and Bertie refused to put Brian down.

He was still bouncing the baby when he led Sylvie to his cabin, larger than the others but still small. He joined her in sitting on the bed, cuddling Brian closer. "Cooie, you know I love you, but you're going to drive me mad one day."

Sylvie almost sighed to hear his pet name for her drop from his lips, what he had called out when he wanted her attention when they were courting. "The planes didn't get anywhere near the hotel, we were perfectly safe."

"You'd have been safer hiding away." He bent over, gently pressing a kiss to Brian's forehead as the boy started to doze. "I don't know what I would have done if they'd gotten you when I was so close but unable to do anything."

Sylvie reached over, not to touch her son, but to turn her husband's cheek towards her. "Would you have preferred the children show up crying today? That have nightmares about what might happen to their father every night? I already have those, I wouldn't wish it on them."

"What does that have to do with not hiding from bombs?"

"I want them to see that their father, and men like him, are fighting to keep us safe." She kissed Bertie then, holding him close. "And that they're very good at fighting, especially their father and his shiny new ship. Then they won't be scared if it happens around us again."

Bertie sighed, leaning against her palm. "You make it sound so sensible, yet I still think you're mad."

"I'm not the only mad one in this family."

"I know, Brian here is asleep in front of a commanding officer." He chuckled, cuddling the baby closer. "He's going to face a court martial if he keeps this up."

Will dragged a hand down his face, dearly wishing that he was not onboard the Unicorn. Spending the night of his birthday in his bunk by himself was less than ideal, he would much rather have preferred his bed in the house, the curtains drawn tight and Ana enticingly bare of any nightgown. They only had a few days left together before she went back down to Southampton, but Beatty just had to throw a wrench into their plans.

How was Ana supposed to know that the estate she purchased had caught the interest of the Admiral?

They had spent a wonderful weekend together touring the place and hearing all the repairs and changes the architect she had hired wanted to make. It was an old Victorian house, gray stone and an old Gothic tower that dominated the structure. It had been in disrepair for quite sometime, glass broken and wood slowly rotting in the sea air. But it sat on a large park, surrounded by fields and woods. The old owner had not sold Ana the rights to his tenants, he had simply moved to a smaller house nearby.

Ana hardly cared though, she was too full of ideas. In her mind, within a few years, the dreary old place would become a warm and welcoming home for their family and friends. Will listened happily to his wife rattle off which rooms would be combined, what furniture she had in mind and all the things she wanted. The architect had followed her as she traipsed through the dusty rooms, frantically noting down all her requests. When he had ventured his concerns about finding a workforce given the war, Ana had simply smirked and replied, "So long as you don't mind veterans, I believe I can arrange for that."

The work would start once spring had truly arrived, and Rinamara House would begin its transformation. Will had innocently mentioned it during a dinner between all the various admirals and captains, only to have Beatty frown in consternation and quiz him about the details. It was only through gossip that Will learned his wife had unknowingly grabbed the estate from under Beatty's fingers, so he wasn't much surprised when his leave request had been suspiciously lost, only being approved this morning and beginning tomorrow.

Ana had sent a wire, assuring him that she was content and would postpone her departure for a few days in order to see him. But it meant that he was enduring a rather lonely birthday, after attending the small party his officers had thrown for him in the wardroom. A purr brought him out of his thought though, and he found himself chuckling after glancing over to the carboard box in his office. Inside, cushioned by a number of blankets, Sam blinked up at him as her kittens nursed.

It had been a shock to the officers when they had come across Sam in the wardroom, licking her new babies clean. What had ensued was a number of discussions on how no one had noticed Sam was actually a Samantha and who had gotten her pregnant. The most likely culprit had been that tom they had pulled up during Jutland, and a search had taken place. The father was much better at hiding then the crew was at finding him, and eventually they had given up. Will had offered to house the kittens, it was his responsibility as the captain.

Nettles had laughed that that, "Aye, our cat lost her virtue on your watch." A good deal of laughter had ensued at that, along with discussions that the tomcat had to do right by Sam and marry her. Even Bertie had joined in, writing out a marriage license to the joy of the others. Whenever that tom was found, he was not going to enjoy what would happen.

But Will had to admit the kitten were quite adorable, and he had caught Sharpe bringing a discreet saucer of milk to his cabin during the day. Once they were weaned, Will planned to gift a kitten to several of the officers. It would be good for them to have something. He stood from his desk, groaning as he gave Sam a scratch and headed for his cabin. Sam gave a squeak though, giving Will pause.

The lights were oddly flickering, a strange pattern. Will reached for the switch, turning them off and thinking to spare the bulbs from whatever electrical surge was coming from the engine rooms. But the lights kept flickering, and when Will breathed out, he could see his breath. Which was exceedingly odd as the heater was going at full blast.

"Willie, calm yerself." His mother's voice was soothing, and Will glanced around. His eyes slid over one spot by his desk, then flicked back as she suddenly appeared. She gave him a smile, "We had thought tae give ye a visit on yer birthday."

Will blinked, still unused to seeing his mother again. "We? Is Da with ye?"

"Aye," Jeannie smiled, looking somewhere beyond him. "He's still getting' used ta everthin'. Samuel, show yerself."

The lights flickered faster, the temperature dropped and Sam began to growl. Will could hear his father's voice, distorted like he was speaking through glass. "I'm tryin', but I cannae manage it!"

"Just calm yerself," Jeannie looked over to Will, "Speak tae him, Willie. Help him focus."

Will glanced around his office, unsure of where to address his father. "Da, it will be fine. It's good tae hear yer voice again."

His vision swam for a moment, his father's eyes appearing. "We've been walking yer ship, Willie. She's a fine one."

"I count myself lucky tae be in command."

"Ye deserve it, lad." Samuel's eyes flashed, his form appearing for a moment. "Ye deserve all this and so much more."

Will swallowed, "Thank ye, Da." In the space of a blink, Samuel stood before him. Just as Jeannie appeared free of pain and age, Samuel looked to be in his prime. A navy suit, a strong body and a steady gaze, his father appeared much as he had when Will had first started serving under him. He blinked away the sudden mist in his eyes, "It's good tae see ye, Da. I wasnae sure I would see ye again."

"Appearin' is difficult at the beginnin'," Jeannie came forward, taking Samuel's hand. "It gets easier with time."

"Speakin' with ye makes it easier, lad." Samuel leaned into Jeannie, "I'm sure it'll come with time."

"I'm sure." Will did his best to ignore the way his heart twisted at seeing his parents together again, young and clearly as in love. It was almost enough to make him forget they were dead. "Ana has said that her da comes to her in dreams, he says its easier."

Jeannie frowned slightly, "Easier, but with the risk of nightmares for ye. I'd rather not give ye any."

"Nor I," Samuel nodded. "I would rather struggle tae appear for ye. 'Tis the least I can do." He flickered and cursed. "Damn, it's hard tae stay."

Jeannie was already beginning to fade. "'Tis simply practice, dear. We can keep workin' on it."

"Ye can come at any time." Will reached out, his hand passing through his father's. "So long as ye don't scare my officers, or make them think I'm mad." Sam gave a yowl from her box. "Or upset Sam there."

Samuel was laughing as he faded away completely, "Yer wife is right, we are in dire need of more names in this family."