22 May, First dog Watch - later in the evening

"Needs jus' a bit of fixing, here and there and then it should serve you fine." He grinned glancing at the coat. It looked worn, yes, but it would do. Just add the buttons, make a few adjustments. He couldn't wait so excited he was at the idea, though he knew patience would be well needed for the next days.

"So, you've got all ye need?"

"Aye, it'll suit nicely," Tom said, holding the coat up. "Dunno why you need a spare coat when you still got a good 'un on yer back, Oxley, but if you fix it up, it's yours."

The ruse would hold, he knew. As long as the three of them weren't seen together too many times. He wished he could remember why there was that one cuff missing, though!

"Wait a minute - need summat for meself out me own sea-chest," Oxley said and darted across the ship to his own sea-chest, where he started flinging things about in his search for the buttons he'd taken off his first coat when it had finally got worn out. Buttons, and his old cross-belt, which was in better condition than he'd expected it to be. Well, that was something, at least, though it would take a bit of work to bring it up to Sergeant Quinn's standards.

There was the packet of buttons, tucked into the corner right at the bottom. He shoved the small canvas bag into his pocket and rolled the cross-belt itself up small, so people couldn't see exactly what it was that he was holding, put everything back in the sea-chest - though he was in too much of a hurry to be neat - and closed the lid.

"A'right, mate," he said and came back over to where de Guarde and Tom Shepherd were. "Never hurts to have a spare, Tom, mate. Y'knows that," he said, winking at them both.

"Yer jus' want ter be perfect fer the next time ye marines need to turn out all perfect. Which ain't a bad idea. No." He chuckled , seeing that the ones present paid little attention to the boys. They were just going about their business of course. Mending coats, getting coats, just like the marines to do that.

Perhaps none could suspect that it was anything out of the ordinary anyway.

Tom grinned. "Oh aye, a spare don't ever hurt, no. C'mon then. Might's well get this fixed up, eh?" He nudged De Guarde with his elbow and added, "Dunno what you'd know 'bout bein' perfect, all a-covered in tar an' all like you are!"

"Perfick, huh? That'll take some doin'... 'sides, who;s got the time to be perfick all the time, anyhow? Ain't possible, that," Oxley said cheerfully, hauling out his package of buttons and passing them over to de Guarde. "You jus' be careful with them, though. I mean, I know you wanted to see one up close, like. Ain't any way I'm goin' to let you go off with me coat like you done with me stick, after all. They's me spares, them." He was grinning so hard his jaw was starting to ache a little.

This whole thing was going to be great fun - especially if they could pull it off properly.

"Oh shush, we wasn't made to look perfect, just do our job that way." He nudged the Shepherd back and grinned. "So's I know it where it counts, lobster boy." He clasped down on the bag that was held out to him, with the buttons and all and nodded.

"Run off with them the way I did with the sticks.. you say?" He asked innocently as he made way for the trio to head back from the eyesight and earshot of the present men.

The Tar had made off with one of Oxley's sticks? Tom sputtered a laugh. "That'll teach you, Oxley. Leavin' your sticks lyin' about. Now c'mon. Foley oughta be sittin' idle in the wardroom some'res. He'll set your new coat t'rights nice'n sharp, like."

"Din't leave it layin' around, neither," Oxley retorted, and gave a rueful shrug. "It don't matter now, anyhow, does it? What matters is them, and these things." He indicated the jacket and crossbelt. "So... who's goin' to go inta the wardroom to tell Foley he's wanted for some sewin' and all that?" he asked, looking between the other two boys.

"Hey, wasn't there a Tar that snatched a hat of yours, Tom?... or was it.. your brother's?" Great, he couldn't remember who was the one loosing it, but he did remember Fingers darting of with it.

He studied the coat briefly and then turned to attention when Oxley had asked his final question. "Hmm.. well, I dun' mind who's going. Can go, if you want, though if'un he doesn't mind a Tar invading his space."

"Nah, lads," Tom said, privately amused at the thought of De Guarde ambling into Cartwright's cabin. "I got it. An' it were Andrew what got his hat nicked clean off his own head."

Chuckling to himself, he trotted forward into the wardroom, seemingly careless of the trouble he'd be in if he was caught by one of the sea officers.

"You be careful there," Oxley said belatedly, as Tom headed aft. He rolled his eyes. It didn't matter what he said. Both Shepherd were exactly the same when it came down to rushing into things recklessly, in Oxley's opinion. He just hoped that he wouldn't run into anyone who was going to cause problems for the other drummer.

"You drummer boys are mad you know that?" He chuckled as he saw the Shepherd run off. Right, seemed to have been the other one then! It was hard to know which of the twins it was, when if one was injured the other would make sure to look somewhat the same as his brother. Atleast he thought he would and would not have been surprised to be proven correct.

"Lets just hope all goes well."

"Hey in there. Master Foley!"

It was all Tom could do not to giggle fiendishly. This was too brilliant! With a light creak, the door to Mister Cartwright's cabin eased open and Foley peered out.

"What's all the noise for, boyo?" He asked.

Tom grinned. "Got somethin' needs tendin' to. C'mere and see!"

Mad or not, it was going to be a fun prank to play. He grinned at de Guarde as Tom Shepherd ran off to find Foley.

"'Course it'll go well. I ain't knowed a prank with them two lads that didn't go well," he said in a low voice, indicating Shepherd with a thumb. "Ain't no reason you can't pull it off, neither. You's all right, you know that?"

"I hope I'll not fail ye lot." He smiled, feeling suddenly nervous that he should present himself so perfectly in a role that the boys could now do with their eyes closed and their hands bound. Well perhaps they'd need their hands, but they were quite natural with it.

"So, this Foley.. he'll not tell t' others, right?"