June 11th, Afternoon Watch: Mystery of the Missing Sugar Bag

Stephen was indignant at such accusations, but this was clear only in the short huff of air that preceded his words. "Then if you have anyone to blame it is me; it was under my recommendation, no, insistence that Mr. Kock leave his post. Doctor Gallien was responsible for nothing more than administering medication to treat the man" he glanced at the pair, "as any attending physician might."

"what you have here, Lieutenant, is Mr. Kock; unwell through no fault of his own, and Doctor Gallien who is serving His Majesty's ship as he ought - ensuring the well being of her crew. Really, if you are going to report anything to the captain then I think the truth would be more appropriate, opposed to what you assume. Those men have done nothing wrong."

Terry had come in during this conversation, despite not particularly wanting to cross Mister Deverel's path again. He wanted to be hauled there by the Marines even less, though, and kept quiet, looking between the men, even managing to offer the cook a small, shy, encouraging smile.

He ran his bare foot up and down the back of his other leg, not wanting to interrupt the men's conversation, despite the fact he needed to report to the officer.

Deverel thought he was being given alcohol just for the fun of it? Deverel was not thinking clearly – not that Kock could think any clearer; however, they were in the sickbay and there were doctors and such all around him. Clearly he was ill. Kock thought the man a raging goon. And that very goon could report to the captain for all Kock cared (of course if he was feeling well, he would not be thinking that).

He did not want to hear them all gabbling about him and the more they talked, the more his head wanted to dance. Kock took the pipe from Gallien and immediately began to inhale, though he would have preferred the wine.

He gave the young boy who he had seen earlier a nod as out of them all, he was the best.

Deverel took a deep breath, snorting through his nose like a bull. His cradled hand was burning, but his anger was greater than the pain at that moment. He turned it toward his chest so these fools of surgeons would not see. Damned if he was going to ask for their help.

"Very well, sir," he said coldly. "I'll include your admission of culpability in my report, and you may speak further with the captain himself. Button, come with me," he said, turning to leave.

Terry gulped, shrinking back a little against the bulkhead as Mister Deverel swung round. What the officer thought he'd done, he couldn't say. He was only a ship's boy, who ran errands and did his best as Mister Leat's servant... If he was in trouble, would Mister Leat send him back to the purser? He didn't want to go back there.

He followed the Lieutenant, trotting to keep up with him.

Russell breathed deeply, he stood there silently with his lips firmly pressed and his nostrils flaring, clearly anticipating the very moment that Deverel stepped his pretty little foot out the door so that he could release his irritation. Damn pompous muckworm, he thought.