Slacking off in the Sun

De Guarde blinked. "He's singin'" He whispered quietly then turned silent. The man was coming closer. They could not afford to be seen, but if they were Button who was on watch had the priority of remaining anonymous.

He sniffed the air and made a face. Not only was it not burning, but it did still smell down below.

"It's a shanty," Terry hissed back. Though why whoever-it-was was singing a shanty was beyond him - they were mostly confined to the merchant service, the Navy being more used to regulating things with a fiddler than a shantyman. "'T ain't a officer, then." Which was some small comfort - and it wasn't Mister Foxley, either, which was rather more comfort.

"Hush, till 'es gone." De Guarde whispered back holding his hand up. He was sitting on his legs, observing the path the light was taking and where it was strongest, thus betraying the whereabouts of the man.

"He's takin' 'is sweet time." He scoffed, quietly.

"You shurrup an' all then," Terry breathed, his heart thudding in his chest. He was taking an age about it, too. And now he needed the head, damn it!

"Fire round the capstan, fire on the mast,
Fire on the main deck, burnin' it fast.
Fire, fire, fire down below,
Fetch a bucket o' water,
Fire down below."

Williams set the lantern carefully aside and crouched down. He was oblivious to the rest of the hold.

De Guarde looked at Button and then after a few moments grinned. "Wait here. I'll draw 'im aways n' then you can skim up n'...after I'll follow." Somehow. He began to crawl forward.

"Need the... need the head," Terry whispered. "You sure, though, mate?"

"Need t' head?" He paused then he was even more certain that this had to be done and quick. "Aye. Certain'. Yer need t' get up without notice n' quick, right? I'll deal with t' rest." He smiled and patted Button on the shoulder. "..jus' you wait.. you'll prolly know when t' go fer it."

"Arrigh'," he said, grinning in the dark. He'd know, all right. He'd been aboard long enough to know the opportune moment when it presented itself.

De Guarde scampered forward. He did not know the hold as well as Button, but he saw somewhat better now, that there was actual light in it. He moved around one of the casks, had to climb over a pair, then some such supplies that would probably interest a carpenter more than they would a young lad. He squirmed on further then tapped his knuckle against the wooden barrel.

He was far enough from the hiding place now. The knock sounded deep, eerie.

Terry jumped at the sound of the knock, but he'd been expecting some sort of diversion. He knew enough not to run right away though. He had to wait for the man with the lantern to either investigate the sound or leave.

"Fire in the store room spoilin' the food,
Fire on the orlop burnin'..."

The dull thunk of something striking a barrel stopped Williams in mid-verse. He glanced up and looked around.

" 'F that's you, Taylor, yer a blockheaded git," the carpenter's mate remarked loudly.

There was no reply. Not for a short while and then another thump on another barrel. A knock. Two times. Then silence.

The boy already shifted even further away from where Buttons was and thumped the third barrel. Three times. He nearly knocked over a bottle..and empty one and then smirked. Slowly he brought it to his lips and blew into it till there was a soft whisper of a sound. Like the whine of the wind, which some would think alive. He blew into it again, then softened the angle so it turned silent, just to repeat the sound and then complete silence again.

Terry shivered. If he wasn't positive it was de Guarde doing that, he would have been out of there like a shot from a gun. He moved cautiously towards the entrance of the small hideout, ready to run at the first sign the man was moving away from him.

The hell was this? Williams came to his feet, knife appearing in his hand. They didn't have anybody stowed away down here. Did they?

"Know that ain't Taylor," he snapped. "He ain't so stupid's all that. There anybody down here what shouldn't be, they'd best clear out!"

"Come closer..." The boy whispered into the bottle, knowing the thing would distort his voice. "Closseeer.." He made the word longer then bit his lip so that he did not giggle. He tapped his hand against the barrel. He did have Taylor do what he wanted.

If he could get his full attention and have him approach, oh that would be so sweet!

Between the Tar's words and de Guarde's messing around - how was he doing that? - and his own need for the heads, Terry finally slipped out of his hiding place and ran for the companionway, thankful for even the little light provided by the lantern.

Mister McNish would have his hide if he didn't complete this assigned duty. Williams knew that. He knew also that there was at least one other person down here, aside from himself.

"Belay there!" The carpenter's mate barked, hearing feet running fast just beyond the glow from the lantern. It was a useless command. He could not give chase and he didn't expect whoever was running to obey either. Damn it all.

He kept his knife in hand and looked around again. This was insane.

De Guarde chuckled into the bottle, which sounded much worse with the help of the thing. It had even disturbed the lad, but he was glad that Button was running and running to his freedom and frankly also to the Heads.

He cut his laughter short and placed the bottle down. After a moment of consideration he took it again and stuffed it into his shirt. With that out of the way he began crawling in the opposite direction of the one he had moved to, up till then.

Terry heard the Tar's yell, but didn't stop. He really needed a piss, dammit! He'd have to ask de Guarde, later, what it was he'd done to get that weird sound. But that was later.

He raced up the companionway, grabbing at the large supporting beam to swing around in a tight circle to continue up to the messdeck.

Silence. That might be a good thing. Or it might not. Williams pursed his lips thoughtfully, then turned back to his work. If it was a stowaway, he could report it to the Master-at-Arms and the hold could be thoroughly searched.

It was simple enough to sound the well. There was an inch or two of water sloshing about, but that was to be expected. Satisfied, Williams sheathed his knife and picked up the lantern. Now to head topside again.

De Guarde waited. He heard the sound of Williams' footsteps become much quieter. He waited still more till he could heard the man no longer, nor his breathing or see his light. He blinked trying to have his eyes quickly adapt to the dark that suddenly surrounded him. He could not panic!

Steadily he went in the direction from which the light was last seen, feeling his way along the barrels. He remembered what Button told him, on how he found his own way around here and tried to mimick that.

Terry practically ran to the heads to relieve himself and get back down to where de Guarde was. He emerged onto the orlop deck, and nearly ran straight into Mister Foxley, who grabbed his arm.

"And where d'you think you're goin'?" the purser asked, transferring his grip to Terry's ear, which made him yell. "You've got work to do. I've a good mind to report you to Mister Bush."

That threat made Terry gulp as he followed the purser stumblingly to the stores room.

The lantern was gone. At last. He remained perfectly still, however, ears straining. The faint wisps of conversation he'd heard earlier seemed to be gone too. Hopefully a good thing.

Hales slowly untucked himself from where he'd been wedged between two water casks. If everybody was gone now, he could safely make his own escape, before someone else came traipsing down here. As much as he found comfort in the dark and quiet down here...

His foot knocked against something and he froze.

"Ow!" The something responded. Just... was he not suppose to be alone? What he felt on his side was far too big to have been a rat!

The lad felt toward the offending foot and went up, his eyes growing wider but no more seeing as they had been before. The damn darkness concealed who it was, but it was definitly something human, warm and alive! At least alive,... would have been damn right scary if he came across a scull of some dead stowaway!