Planning for fun

"Allright, if that's so." He looked at Andrew again for a moment. So they had everything settled. Did they mean to go back to sleep or had the boys something else planned. He'd been awoken enough that other than a stray yawn or two, wasn't all that drawn to a hammock. Not just yet, but the latter was to be decided by the boys. And his guard was not up as much any more. Perhaps Thompson was right.

"Hoi." Andrew swatted Fingers' questing hand away from his drumsticks again. "Go getchyer own, mate."

The ship's boy grinned and turned his gaze toward Oxley, who had drumsticks on his crossbelt as well.

"That oughta be it for now, I thinks," Andrew added, looking around at the rest of the group.

Silently passing the crowd of boys, were three sailors. One yawned and the other two chatted away more quietly to each other. They glanced to the boys, which were not exactly in full view, and went onward, soon disappearing from sight.

De Guarde grinned at Fingers. The boy had tried it again, he right did. Which near prompted him to do, with Oxley's sticks just close enough. But he managed to fight that urge and he only tapped his fingers atop the wooden floor.

He dusted his slops and observed his feet, bare under the sunlight. They felt a
bit cold. He curled his toes and pulled his legs back under him, deciding to stand when the other ones would.

"Tomorrow then? Is all happening?" He asked just to confirm this, and pinched himself to be sure he wasn't just dreaming this all, to wake up the next day
with false expectations and a headache to boot. Well, atleast with the false expectations as something that shouldn't be expected.

Other than feeling the pinch, everything was still there, so he wasn't dreaming. Great!

"Get out of it!" Oxley said, swatting Fingers' hand away from his drumsticks. "Bad 'nough havin' one of you after 'em, never mind two of you. You're jus' as bad as each other, you two!" He grinned at the other boys. "Aye, it's all happenin' tomorrow. Startin' with the first dog watch. We'll meet up on the fo'c'sle, same's usual an' get into teams like we've agreed."

De Guarde burst into laughter at Fingers' expression when his fingers were swatted and also at Oxley's complaint. "..We'um done nothin' wrong, Tom." He said, then less certain he could just use that name directly, he'd added. "Oxley."

And to the later , all was good and agreed on, and he just hoped he wouldn't forget. There was a small chance of that though. He stood slowly. "We'um goin' ter ..back now? Or'um.." His voice trailed of, since he didn't really know what the other choice could've been.

"Aye, don't think there's anythin' else to decide. Though you can hang around a bit an' be friendly and chat about things, if you want to. Get to know us a bit better, that sort of thing." He shrugged. "That's up to you, though. Y'don't have to if you don't want."

"Stay ter ...?" He looked at Oxley incredulously. "...Oh.." He hesitated and looked around, at Fingers who would probably attempt another snatch, at Andrew and then at a few boys who were probably still a bit 'distant'.

"Sure, if ye'um all , allright with it." He made a faint grin and shifted in his seat. "Can we, um.. can we compete who's gettin' t' sticks sooner...between me n' Fingers?" It was a silly idea, but he was still a bit drunk and not only on alcohol.

"Not unless you want me an' Sticks to sit on you," Oxley retorted. "And of course you can stay. You're one of us, ain'tcha?"

"I bet you, neither you nor sticks could manage sit on either me or Fingers 'ere." He nodded to the boy, then looked at the floor. That was kind, and he wasn't used to respond to something kind. Not as used as to being unkind and responding to that. But he did grin then and looked up: "Aye, I'um one of you."

"Well, don't try it, less'n you want to find out you're wrong," Oxley said. "It'll be fun proving you're wrong, though."

It was strange the way De Guarde had reacted to being included as one of the boys. Almost as though he'd never been included, never been part of a group before. That had to be put right.

"That's a challenge, ain't it now?" He smiled and moved up, and in a position he'd be quick to go at Oxley for his sticks. He glanced at Fingers as if goading him to join in. Just for the fun. Two on one would've been easier though, rather than getting each at one boy.

He felt a strange yet so warm a feeling down in his chest that he knew he was really not only just drunk on alcohol but on the happiness, the later he could only explain with being right there and able to chat and have fun.

"Only if you want to be sat on, like I said," Oxley said, throwing a glance at Andrew Shepherd. If Fingers and de Guarde were going to gang up on him, Sticks had better give him a helping hand.

"Fingers..?" He looked hesitant for a moment, as if not expecting the boy to back him up, after all, why would he? He turned back at Oxley then:" Psh,.. I'm not 'fraid of you, I ain't!"

"Yeah. I noticed that!" Oxley said, before Fingers started eyeing him up. "You two are gonna be so squashed when I'm done with you!"

"Ain't going ter happen, that!" De Guarde grinned and then suddenly bolted for Oxley. He pushed forward and reached for one stick, while actually letting himself push against the boy to bring him out of balance. Surprise was what he could be using, for he was neither as tall or as strong as the other lad.

"Hey!" Oxley said, borne over by the impetus.

"Get him, lads!" Andrew cried, delighted by the prospect of a play-fight. He seized Fingers by the back of his grubby shirt and hefted him straight off the deck, tucking the squealing boy under his arm as if he was a sack of grain.

De Guarde saw the other boy already out of the game, but he thought that he saw him reaching out for the sticks all in the same time. Wouldn't put it past the squealing boy to try!

He pulled sharp at Oxley's own, hoping he'd gotten a handful, as he already began to make a turn to run for it.

"No, you don't!" Oxley said, reaching to try to grab de Guarde's wrists. At least Sticks had taken Fingers out of the way, which was something.

De Guarde pulled, trying to free his hands. "Yes I will and I'um doin' it already!" He answered with a grin then tried to twist his own hands as he'd known to be able to free himself from a grip. Another thing he'd learned to a fair effect.

"Fingers, try get Andrew's!" He called to the other boy.

"You's a young terror, you are, Buckles!" Oxley said as De Guarde managed to twist free of his grip. He was grinning, though and put a hand to his crossbelt to make sure his sticks were still there.

"Says one only when they'um loosin'!" He held his hand up triumphant. Though it wasn't a win altogether. Not a full one at least, he was proud enough to present a single drumstick clasped tight in his fist.

"Ha. I'll be comin' fer t' other one." But he took a step back instead. He didn't just want to risk loosing his first. As he stood there he looked like as sure like a canine inviting to a game, or a boy challenging the other, overconfident in himself.

"Losin'? Says who?" Oxley demanded, scrambling to his feet, grinning. "I still reckon I'm better'n you, though."

"Nay, yer not!" He looked at the stick he'd won, then at the one that was so temptingly there. "Look o'er there! A Frog!" He piped and then snatched with his other hand for the remaining stick. He still heard the squeals from his 'fellow in crime' who was squirming and doing a fairly fine job at trying to get around Andrew even with his small size, all taken into account.

Oxley managed to stop him getting his second stick, though it was close. "Am too!" he said and took a quick step towards de Guarde.

Though he'd been taken by surprise at being picked up the way he had, Fingers had quickly recovered himself and was wriggling as much as he could to try to get hold of one of Andrew' sticks. The drummer was bigger than him, which could be a disadvantage if Fingers wasn't careful.