1 June; Stargazing

"Can I 'ave mine back, then, please?" he asked. "I c'n go an' find yours if you wants a 'at to wear."

"But what if I like yours?" Chase gave up trying to get the hat to fit properly and spread his arms a little. "How do I look, lads?"

Grinning, Dyer shrugged. "Hats don't suit ya, really."

"It's too small for you, t's gotta be - I ain't got such a big 'ead as that," was Terry's own opinion. His head felt cold in the night air without it - he wasn't used to being bare-headed.

Dyer laughed at the expression of apparent shock on Chase's face. "You say he's big-headed, mate?"

He hadn't meant it quite that way, no. He shook his head. "No... I'm sayin' my 'ead's smaller'n 'is." Which only made sense - Terry was smaller than him in pretty much every way he could be smaller than an adult.

There was a chuckle from Tommy Edwin. "Don't be lyin' now, lad. Ain't like we don't a'ready know Cob's head's too big for his own good!"

"I didn't say that!" Terry looked from one sailor to the other and shrugged. "I... I don't reckon 'e 'as, neiver."

"Quit 'mbarassing the lad," Chase admonished. "My head's no bigger'n yours, Chicken."

"Zat so?" Dyer smirked, then stooped quickly and grabbed Button about the waist. He swung the boy up onto his shoulders. "C'mon then. Give it back!"

Terry giggled as Chicken scooped him up, and made a grab for his hat. Things looked different from up here and he wondered for a moment how the men coped with being up so high above the deck all the time.

Time to go. That's what it was. Since they were all playing and trying to get at Button's hat, now on Chase's head, nobody would much notice. This in all was a good thing, he thought, as he slowly scrambled back to his feet. It was a painstaking process which required enough of adjusting what the fabric was concerned and much of tugging at it and the like.

Once he was up he turned and made careful, quiet steps towards the companionway that would leave him below.

"Ha!" Chase sidestepped, barely, and scampered aft, grinning broadly as he went. Dyer was hard on his heels.

Tommy Edwin shook his head. "Mind you don't trip over nobody!"

"C'mon, mate, gissit back - it don't fit you so good!" Terry was trying not to laugh. Being carried around the weather deck on Chicken's back was pretty funny, after all. Though it'd be less funny if they disturbed the officer of the watch, of course.

Chase ducked around Buckles and put the companionway between himself and Dyer. "So what if it don't? It's nice'n warm!"

"'S why I want it back, please?" he asked, cajolingly. "I ain't used to 'avin' a bare 'ead, am I? Not like you!"

De Guarde tried stepping out of the way of Chase and then of Dyer with his top boy. Days before he might have told Chase to give the boy his hat and let it be. Now he thought it was not his business or right to do any of the sort and so he stood there quietly, watching them 'dance' around each other to take hold of the thing. He did not want to get in trouble for causing trouble. This ruckus could disturb an officer. He had enough of the unwanted attention. And next time, next time the punishment could only be worse.

That, and his injuries made him a not so lively jumper. But even if he were, he would have not told, 'ordered' Chase into anything.

Far from being disturbed by the noise, Deverel was amused. Let the men be stone-faced and church-sober when the captain was about, or any of the other officers, but for now the deck was Deverel's to do with as he pleased.

"Not joining in the fun, De Guarde?" he observed as the lad shuffled near. He might not know all the crew's names yet, but the previous day's events had certainly brought the name of De Guarde to his attention. "I hope it's not from fear of sea monsters."

De Guarde tensed hearing an authorative voice address him. He had not done anything now! He could swear he tried to keep out of trouble! His first thoughts come to mind, he blinked and turned recognising Jack Deverel. This one was the.. third lieutenant wasn't he? His left hand moved to grip at the cuff of the right sleeve.

"Sir." He addressed him with a timid, submissive tone. "I promise I am keeping myself out of trouble, sir. I am not afraid of sea monsters." He hesitated momentarily. "..I do not so much believe in them...I think."

Deverel answered with a grunt and turned back to watching the men.

"Go on, gissit back!" Terry said, settling himself a little more firmly on Chicken's shoulders. "You got your own, waddaya want mine for any'ow?"

So that was it. He had managed to displease another of the officers. He bit his lip looking at Button and Chase and Dyer and the rest of the lot. It was best to leave before he could draw the attention of Mister Leat or Mister Bush, or even the captain.

Silently he turned again, and just as quietly slunk of towards the companionway. He changed his mind only, as not to head for the hold where it was more than pitch black, but instead walk of to his little place under the stars. The very one where he and Oxley once fought and each gained a black eye. It was concealed, quiet, out of the way. He smiled faintly. All that, was good.

Upon reaching his spot he nearly had himself sit down, till he realiesed that to do that would make him yelp in pain. So awkwardly rolling himself on his belly and then curling onto his side he turned to gaze at the stars. They were lovely, bright, like diamonds on the finest fabric of indigo fabric, made so dark that it was nearly black. He could still hear the laughter and teasing, the joyous exclaims of the crew and what he thought was probably Dyer and Chase, with the younger protests of probably Button.

"It's on'y fair, ain't it?" Chase teased, dancing out of Dyer's reach. "I helped you, you help me. Ain't that how it goes?"

"Aww, c'mon, gissit back! You 'elped 'im too, but you ain't took 'is 'at, 'ave you!" His fingers closed on thin air as Chase moved out of his reach.

From his place at the wheel, Tide Evans laughed. "He wouldn't know help if it dropped on his head, that one."

"Who, me?" Chase paused to glance aft and was promptly tackled by a smirking Joe Preddie.

"Lemme down!" Terry said to Chicken, seeing his chance. If Preddie could hold Chase for a moment, he could grab his hat back.

"Not. Fair!" Chase pulled the hat off and flung it blindly toward the waist. It wasn't often they got to play about like this while on watch.