Heated Debate, Sunday afternoon

"You called me Buckles, stupid. You know wot' yer calling me. N' didn't mean that!" He shook his head with a smile. "Alright then. You might have me convinced." And in part he'd decided to do it as well anyhow. He had to. Not writing a name would not show much courage, and the last he wished was for that Maturin to think they were cowards.

He made a short nod and turned from Oxley half walking, half running to the companion way. Skipping a step every so often, used to that after all, he landed feet flat on the floor. And there he moved quickly past the many sailors and men alike towards their mess. He walked to the seachest he shared with Chase. He opened it slowly, lifted his folded slops and shirts and some of Chase's own clothes, dug deeper, past the small package that he'd gotten from home and more to the bottom of the chest.

"There." He murmured to himself as he pulled out some paper and the ink bottle with a quill ready for use.

Oxley watched as de Guarde hurried off and turned back to sickbay. He had two things to do - or one thing to do and one thing to ask Bridgens or someone to do. He tapped nervously at the door and waited for an answer.

Bridgens opened the door a crack and peered cautiously out at him. His look darkened as he recognized the marine drummer who had gotten them in such furious trouble with the visiting doctor. "What do you want?" he asked sullenly.

He looked apologetic, remembering how furious doctor Maturin had been with Bridgens and Mister M'Clure. "Wanted to say sorry. And, Mister Crozier dosed hisself earlier, from a bottle in his wooden box in the dispens'ry. An' I thought you should know, that's all."

Bridgens stared at him in horror as if he were raving. "Dosed himself? With what? Here, what do you mean, dosed himself?"

Oxley sighed. "He was up, earlier, an' made me help him into the dispensary, didn't he? And asked for his wooden box. I didn't know what he was goin' to do, or I wouldn't've given it him. An' he had summat out of a bottle from it. I dunno what, though I can show you the bottle. An' he wrote summat in the Day Book afore letting me bring him back in here."

Bridgens turned and walked back into the sick bay, leaving the door open for Oxley to follow or not as he chose. M'Clure was busy changing the bandage on Joyse's shoulder, so Bridgens himself examined the day book.

"What's it say?" he asked himself aloud, frowning at the nearly illegible scrawl. He could just barely make out "Thos. Crozier" in the space for the patient's name - wandering in and out of three such spaces, to be precise. "Say, how'd he get in? Weren't the door locked?"

Oxley followed him in nervously, hanging back a little. "He had another set of keys, though I dunno where he got 'em from. Made me try 'em in the door till I got it unlocked."

Bridgens frowned. "Where's the keys now?"

Oxley shrugged nervously. "Dunno. Think he's still got 'em. Least, I gave 'em back to him and I didn't see anyone take them off him again."

The former midshipman took his papers and ink and stored away the rest of the clothing and personals. It took a little longer than he'd expected. With the retrieved under his arm and in hand, he began his way back to where he'd left Oxley to wait.

He was startled when he didn't find him standing in wait though, neither anywhere close to the spot. He paused and then noticed the door open and coming from it, the voices from inside. He recognised one as Oxley and the other as Bridgens. No sound of Maturin though. Wich was good news.

Bridgens cast a doubtful glance at the sleeping surgeon lashed into his swinging cot. "Maybe in his breeches pocket... Feel and see if you can find 'em." Bridgens himself went on the other side of the cot and slipped his hand between its fabric side and the patient under the seven square turns of rope.

Oxley shrugged and stepped over to the Doctor. Muttering, "Sorry, sir," as though Crozier could hear him, he slipped his hand in to pat along the surgeon's side. There was something there and he frowned, trying to get a better grip. "Got 'em," he said, pulling the bunch of keys out.

"All right." Bridgens looked over his shoulder at M'Clure who was still occupied with a poultice for Joyse. Better safe than sorry: he explained his errand in detail, explained that he would not touch or tamper with anything in the dispensary except to look at the single bottle identified by Oxley. With M'Clure's approval, Bridgens headed for the dispensary with the Day Book in his hand, nodding his head for Oxley to follow him.

Oxley noticed de Guarde as he followed Bridgens out of the sickbay. "I'll only be a moment, mate," he said. "Thought I should tell Bridgens about that dose Mister Crozier gave himself, that's all. I'll be right back when I'm done, all right?"

Bridgens gave De Guarde an even darker look than the one he had given Oxley.

Oxley realised he was still holding the keys and passed them over to Bridgens, shooting de Guarde an apologetic look. He waited for Bridgens to unlock the dispensary door.

"Right, you said it was in a wooden box?" Bridgens asked as he went inside. He tried to look nonchalant, as if he let himself into the dispensary unsupervised every day.

"Yes. That box, there on the table," Oxley said, indicating the item in question.

De Guarde had entered, or atleast moved somewhat closer once he saw Oxley there. Partly it was to see why the boy went to be there at all, listen in on it, so to say. He wasn't too far though, enough that he'd have felt unwelcome, enough that he'd seen the unfriendly look and had himself shrug in response. Then slowly move further in, following the example of the saying - curiosity killed the cat -.

"Oh. The 'pothecary case," Bridgens said haughtily. He was looking through the keys when he saw that wretched little squeaker who had so angered the doctor. "Get out! You're not allowed in here!"

Oxley looked up. "Go on, I said I'd be with you in a moment." You've already made enough people upset and uncomfy for one day, he thought, though he didn't say the words aloud.

"That's it. It's one of the smaller keys opens it," he offered helpfully, as though Bridgens didn't know that.

De Guarde looked stunned where he stood. He'd been hearing those words often enough. Especially around the sickbay, but he'd not expected - not with Oxley being in there and allowed to be at least - that he'd been told to leave yet again. He hesitated and made a rather vague :".. Jus' waitin' fer.. Oxley." And nearly sounded as if it actually upset him that he was being told out.

But then Oxley seemed to say the same, and he took a step back with a sullen expression on his face.

The step backward was enough, and Bridgens shut the dispensary door in his face.

Oxley frowned at that. "Was s much my fault as his, what happened earlier," he said, clasping his hands together to show he wasn't going to touch anything. "An' I am real sorry for it."