Jameson and the hundreds of other men walked up the boarding ramp to enter the aircraft carrier ship, the dapper male pausing to read the name painted on the side of the ship.

HMS Courageous

Jameson felt Shawn grab his arm tight, the Brit glancing over at the Irishman to see his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Is the poor chap alright? Jameson wondered as he patted Shawn's arm reassuringly, the male quickly loosening his grip with an embarrassed smirk.

On top of the deck were several tanks and planes, Jameson's gaze lingering on them as the crowd moved below decks.

The living quarters felt cramped to Jameson as everyone filed in, the area filled with bunk beds with simple chests at the end of them.

"You want top or bottom?"

Shawn's voice brought Jameson out of his musings, the mute blushing slightly as he gestured at one of the bottom bunks.

"Figured you were a bottom." Shawn winked, causing the dapper male's face to heat up more as he looked away.

Inside the ship was also a mess area where the men could eat, a gym for exercise, a walled off area that served as the bathroom, an infirmary, as well as a small library much to Jameson's excitement.

"This boat's pretty nice." Shawn whistled in amazement, many other men seeming just as impressed.

"Alright men, listen up!"

The murmuring in the crowd instantly faded as the men looked around, a group of well dressed commanding officers standing in front of them.

"I am Air Vice-Marshal Sir Keith Park, I command fighter group eleven, which is the people from the London district." A man graying hair and a small mustache barked, his brown eyes sparkling as they scanned the group of new recruits.

"That's a hell of a name." Shawn remarked under his breath, Park's gaze landing on him as he spoke.

"You, come up here." Park instructed Shawn, the Irishman glancing over at Jameson before confidently striding up to the commanding officer.

"What's your name son?" Park demanded, Shawn standing stiff as he looked the man in the eyes without fear.

"Shawn Flynn sir!" Shawn snapped back, Park eyeing the male warily as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"You're Irish, what the hell are you doing here? Didn't you know that Ireland declared to be neutral in this fight?" Park retorted.

"I know sir, but I'm not about to stand back when there's a fight going on for other people's freedom." Shawn replied firmly, a small smile gracing Park's face as he patted Shawn on the back and gently nudged him back towards the group.

"Now I know not all of you are from London, but your fighter command squads have instructed me to instruct you. We will begin training tomorrow morning bright and early, see you all on deck at five." Park stated before leaving, the men going over to the bunk beds to claim which one would be theirs.

"Hey Jameson, I've been thinking....can I call ya Jamie?" Shawn grunted as he climbed up to the top bunk, Jameson smiling as he nodded in response.

"Great! I'm taking a quick nap, wake me up for dinner Jamie." Shawn winked, rolling over so his back was facing Jameson.

The dapper male rolled his eyes as he went to the small makeshift library, finding a nice book to read before settling into an armchair.

The mute missed having his radio since he enjoyed music so much, yet he knew that he would end up missing a lot of things during the war.

Before long, Jameson's stomach started grumbling loudly, the male reluctantly returning his book before going to wake up Shawn.

The Irishman was sitting up in bed with his arms wrapped around his knees that were curled into his chest, his expression distant.

Jameson hesitated before reaching up and lightly tapping Shawn's arm, leaping back in surprise when the Irishman cried out and nearly fell off of the bed.

"Jesus, don't scare me like that." Shawn chuckled, climbing down while Jameson shot him an apologetic expression.

"C'mon, let's go get some food." Shawn muttered, leading the way to the mess area where some men were already sitting and eating.

Laid out on tables was packs of rations, everything canned with can openers that doubled as spoons beside them.

"Canned bacon? Jamie, I don't think this is real bacon." Shawn remarked, eyeing the tin of canned bacon warily as he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Jameson laughed silently as he picked up his own ration pack and can opener, the two finding an empty table to sit at.

"Ya know, I think this is gonna make me miss bacon soup." Shawn sighed absent mindlessly as he used the can opener to open the canned bacon, Jameson shooting Shawn a confused frown.

"Right. Well, I've been working at Joey Drew Studios Inc for awhile and they had a lot of bacon soup lying around. Ever since I played what was a hilarious joke in my mind by painting crooked smiled on some dolls, they've fired me and have been trying to kill me so I don't talk about the secrets of the company." Shawn explained through a mouthful of bacon.

Tried to kill you? Jameson scribbled into his notebook, his eyes wide in shock while Shawn chuckled coldly.

"Yeah, Joey's a sick son of a bitch. Doesn't matter now, I escaped the company and I won't have to worry about them." Shawn promised, falling silent to continue eating.

Jameson sniffed at his food before shrugging and taking a bite, nearly spitting it out since it tasted strongly of salt.

After eating, the two men returned to their bunk beds, the men changing out of their uniforms into pajamas that they had brought with them.

"Night Jamie!" Shawn called out to Jameson as he climbed up into his bed, Jameson noticing a black cartoon doll with pointed ears and a crooked smile on its face in his hand.

Jameson laid down in bed as Shawn tossed and turned restlessly above him, the dapper male thinking of what training would hold for him tomorrow as he finally drifted off to sleep.