Pyrates of the West Coast

[Pew]

::Under the cloudless blue sky of la Margarita's harbor the light breeze did little more than stir the Spanish Ensign flying at the Main mast of the EL Acorazado.

The spainards continued through the night with their subdued conversation of what may be hiding within the holds of the Spanish men-o-war lying at anchor in the harbor.

As best I can understand, we hear grumblings of a young officer in the Spanish Navy. "We cannot stay here any longer. Too many pyrates know of us already."

Sensing the tone and barely being able to translate into english, my interest piques. I tilt down my tricorn as to not raise suspicion, yet make eye contact with Mr. Franklin. He sees me with my eyebrow cocked and knows.

"We need to hoist our anchor immediately," says the young officer. "Senor, you need to relax, no one know of what lies in our hold." replies the elder crewman of the one of the men-o-war. "The ElGarante is well manned and well guarded against any infidel raiding. We will be in port for a mere few days more."

Sailing from Vera Cruz held a great deal of danger and responsibility. It was here that much of the wealth of Mexico and Central America was shipped, before being sent to Spain. Every year a massive fleet of massive galleons and men-o-war, known as the plate fleet, arrived in Vera Cruz to transportthis acculmulated wealth across the Atlantic. And now the Watch Dog had stumbled across them reloading and refitting with supplies on their voyage back to Spain. La Maragarita's harbor was filled with treasure.

Mr. Franklin overhears the conversation as well and between the two of us, we are able to discern the young officer's fears. We move back towards the bar and recieve another fill of our tankards. Eric grabs my elbow slightly, "I 'ave spoken with some ole mates o' mine. They know o' someone with which we should speak." Leaving another coin on the bar, we head outside back towards the wharf.

The Red Curtain, the most elegant bordello in Margarita, was unusually rowdy. Large men with bulging forearms and hefty truncheons guraded the door and turned away everyone, including the usual clientele, who were quite unhappy, but not enough to argue. Luckily, Mr. Frankilin knew one of those men, and we were allowed entry.

Inside the place was a shambles. Furniture was strewn everywhere and coverd with all types of sailors, merchants and privateers in varying stages of inebriation. Those who were able to stand staggered about in search of liquor and entertainment. Some had actually made it halfway up the stairs before they passed out, much to the amusement of the scantily clad "hostesses".

Unperturbed by the festivities, the lady Ilex sat in a small room overlooking the harbor and carefully examined a chart she had just been handed by her small, rotund companion.

"You're telling me that THIS is supposed to be a map made by the Admiral Jean Comte d'Estrees of the wreck of his fleet here off of the Spanish Main?? My friend, the ink isn't even dry. This looks like those "Dutch" papers foisted off the Duquesne whelp. Surely you would not try to dupe me."

Mr. Franklin and I are led into the room. The small rotund man turns to look at us and continues his profuse defense, "OF COURSE NOT!" he protested. Quivering a bit like white pudding served on Christmas Day he contiues, "I wouldn't dream of it. I'll tell you what Lady Ilex, You 'old on to that map and use it as you see fit. If it leads you to the French wrecks, then I expects you'll come back and do the right thing by 'elpin out a meager servant . . . "

Sitting back in her chair, the lady pulls out a pipe out of her waist coat, lights in and inhales slowly. "I'll do with it as I wish." Looking through the smoke at Mr. Frankilin and myself, she says to the man in a charming tone, "Away now Don Francisco, beg me moment with these gentlemen." Don Francisco backs away from us, never turning his back but closing the doors behind him.

With a doff of my hat I slightly bow, "Me Lady Ilex, 'tis been awhile."

"Aye Mr. Pew, too long," she replies with a wry smile of past misadventures.

Mr. Franklin looks to me, surprised. He withdraws his tricorn and bows also. "Ilex, 'tis me mate from the Watch Dog, Eric Franklin." She stares at Mr. Franklin not quite knowing how to take him. She reaches under her desk and lays a pistol upon it. Ignnoring the gesture, I move closer to the desk.

"We know the plate fleet is in port," I say.

She stands and turns to the window, and replies, "Aye. Been 'ere for about a week." She looks to the Watch Dog. "Captain Hollande aboard?"

Looking to Mr. Franklin, he and I furrow our brows simultaneously. "Aye."

"Well then . . ." She smiles again.

"Me lady, we're only 'ere on accounts of ta resupply our ship."

She erupts in a howl of laughter. "Mr. Pew we've known each other for far too long . . "

She grabs her pistol from the desk, tucks it in her waistcoat, and walks towards the front doors. Turning back to us she states a reply to a question we never asked, "I'd love to speak with your Captain."::

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

It would have taken any normal person hours to file away the sea of parchment that was waiting for Tudor in the ward room. But with an efficency of speed she cleared the mess away. With even more speed she threw a few items into her gunny sack and headed topside once more, hoping the cutter would be ready to take her ashore.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: Mr. Lasseter smiled at the suggestion given by the Surgeon...::

A'right then... cutter's about up to us... I best make th' deck.... I shall see ye 'pon me return...

:: he gave a shallow bow and a slight wink, then turned to Armand...::

Come, Lad.... let us be off...

:: heading out and up to the deck, he made his way to the side, just as the cutter rounded up and was easing to a stop. Mr. Warren in the dternsheets called out as he saw the QuarterMaster...::

"Aye, Mr. Lasseter! Seems Mr. PEW an' Mr Franklin have gone astray! All else made it back b'fore we shipp'd out! Would you like us to head back an' see if we can find 'em?"

::Mr. Lasseter crossed his arms and thought, then looking over the side, ::

Nay Lad... we be headin' back ta shore right quick... All you Lads! Get yer gear stowed down, then get back 'ere ta sway out all this cargo... All you tha' got th' next liberty, help out an' make sure yer ready ta depart soon as I say! Not ta worry Mr. Warren... I'll not hold ye accountable o' th' lads wot gone amiss...

:: He then stepped up to the quarterdeck, pulled out the log, opened to a section, retrieved quil and ink. He wrote two names down, let the ink dry and replaced all in their respective places... Within a turn of the glass, all was arranged aboard the cutter...::

Right! All who's goin' ashore best be on th' cutter 'n five minutes flat... Otherwise yer swimmin' r' stayin' aboard!

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Just as she reached the deck, Tudor heard the Quatermaster call for the cutter to load up. She picked up her pace and hurried across the deck and started the climb down into the smaller boat. She was all but descended when a choppy wave passed by and threw her off balance, making the final decent alot quicker then she had planned on. Luckly, she ran into something stable, that helped her regain her footing. "Sorry -" She said brightly then looked up to see Armand smiling down at her

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

"Mademoiselle Smith...you must try to take more care. A fall of that nature could be very unbeneficial."

The Gascon made sure she was all right then looked to the upper surface of the frigate and spyed the Quartermaster getting ready to come over the side. Glancing to the Captain's Steward, he spoke quietly and indicated a space vacant next to where he sat.

"Perhaps it is best that you sit here so that I have no worry to your safety as we make for shore, oui?"

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Afternoon middle meal done and the mess all cleared i worried to the latter on those items of need might to be forgotten for the galley. No one should make mention since my completed list thinking back I don't even remember who it was I had given it too. a short nap before me shift I thought but first I should like to visit Mr Cage and see how his recovery is??? I mean I would certainly love to give this mans cause the effects of taking over the galley. Rumour has it he is a certified great cook be it that which God's grace need be we were. So be it I shall see his wellness then and see to it's prompt undertakings then. I pray he be better I does! And off to the infirmery I went, pretty much whistling a tune I had heard on the flute not so long ago.

[William Brand]

As the cutter offloaded the first round of crew members fresh from shore leave, William questioned them at length, beginning with the conspicuous absence of the Mister Pew and Mister Franklin. No one could say what had become of the two and William was sure to admonish Mister Lasseter to find them while ashore.

"Aye, Cap'n. I'll remind 'em of their obligations."

"Thank you, Mister Lasseter."

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

I knocked at the door. And waited abit....... yah de dah yah de dah yah de dah! such a strange and haunting melody it were. Well! I'm not going to just walk in so off I trod into the dark passage of the ship returning to me own abode. Changing into me wind gear I sat at my table thinking I would read a good passage and woke up on me bell! I ran topside to retrieve Siren from her shift. I scurried up the main mast and she went out t'other side pon me arrival goodaye I said and a nice smile she shared and handed me the long lense. I settled in and watched the birds all returning to shore from thier daily quests fer food at sea. I marked the moving sun as it were getting lower and as the wind slowed with its departure in the simultaneous partnership of days end. Dog watch on the Watch Dog it don't get much better than that.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon was quite satisfied with her charge's progress. Mister Gage had turned into quite the conversationalist of worldly means as his recovery gained purchase. His frame was filling out to a healthy vissage and the angry marks of livid contusion were all but phantoms. Lazerus had proven true to his name and had resurected himself; so pleased she had been that he had raised himself from prone position without overmuch discomfort, and was now walking with slow, but steady progress at her side. With support to one of his arms, they navigated the stairway, forgoeing the attempt at ladder, and emerged to the daylight of salt caressed upper deck.

The two stood their ground briefly as to announce silently a victory over the odds of ill favor and the Surgeon noted, at quick survey of wooden expanse, the dominate stance and bearing of the Captain as the Quartermaster dissapeared over 'wale edge. Aiding Lazerus closer to Holy Ground proximity, Tempest assured his seating on a storage crate then continued to William's side.

" I see that things are at a calm for the time being, Sir." Her focus shifted to the cutter briefly then with slight incline of chin, she centered on the man towering over her heighth. The ruddy features of the frigate's master seemed distracted with unsaid thoughts that were dismissed at her voicing and his smile of warm quality washed away any former hint.

" Good afternoon to you, Doctor."

" And to you, Sir. I have been told that you have gained success in early contact with the Don and I do wish you all the joy in the world for that."

" Thank you. But, we cannot count our chicks so soon."

" Very true, Sir...Very true indeed." Her attention drifted to the cutter for a fleet. " I thought it proper to inform you that Mister Gage has made great progress and is, as we speak, occupying a crate not over far from here. There is not overmuch more that I can do for him. It is of my sound judgement that he may be allowed to leave the Sick ward for private accommodation. Under the condition that he is not expected to fight with a hammock's over giving surface. It would prove quite difficult at this time for him to have to struggle with such. I wish him to be provided with aid when moving about for the time being, but do observe that he should be independant of such need in the course of a week's time."

[William Brand]

" I see that things are at a calm for the time being, Sir." Her focus shifted to the cutter briefly then with slight incline of chin, she centered on the man towering over her heighth. The ruddy features of the frigate's master seemed distracted with unsaid thoughts that were dismissed at her voicing and his smile of warm quality washed away any former hint.

" Good afternoon to you, Doctor."

" And to you, Sir. I have been told that you have gained success in early contact with the Don and I do wish you all the joy in the world for that."

" Thank you. But, we cannot count our chicks so soon."

" Very true, Sir...Very true indeed." Her attention drifted to the cutter for  a fleet. " I thought it proper to inform you that Mister Gage has made great progress and is, as we speak, occupying a crate not over far from here. There is not overmuch more that I can do for him. It is of my sound judgement that he may be allowed to leave the Sick ward for private accommodation. Under the condition that he is not expected to fight with a hammock's over giving surface. It would prove quite difficult at this time for him to have to struggle with such. I wish him to be provided with aid when moving about for the time being, but do observe that he should be independant of such need in the course of a week's time."

"This is excellent news, Doctor."

William's smile was wide and warm. He straitened a little as he stood and his shoulder, so recently recovered, audibly popped. His smile only widened, but whether it was from his shoulder or not, he didn't say.

"How are you, Tempest?"

He did not often call her by name and the question seemed more searching. It implied that he thought something might be wrong, or that he wished to be sure that nothing was by asking.

"Sir?"

"How are you, Tempest? You've been in the company of many wounded and sick individuals of late with little time on or off the ship."

"I believe I am well enough." she said, answering too quickly it seemed for his tastes.

He elaborated. "The health of my crew is of paramount importance to me. I cannot sail the ship without them, nor would I care to sail with men and women of poor health and failing morale. Since their condition is predicated entirely on your measure of them, you must occasionally be measured as well. Consider me the weights and measures man come to verify that you are an accurate instrument against which all others will be weighed."

He paused. Then placing his hand gently on her arm he asked her again. "How are you, my good Miss Fitzgerald?"

[Pew]

::Outside of the bordello, we walk in to the sunlight high over La Margarita, Franklin and I look for the cutter, only to see it docked beside the Watch Dog.::

"SHITE!!"

"Oh bloody 'ell Pew, Mr. Warren 'll 'ave me 'ead," Franklin started to worry.

The lady Ilex with us tilts her head down and laughs quietly.

"Quiet you." I say to her.

"Listen gentlemen, we have but a few more days while the fleet is at anchor, we . . " She is cut short by the sight of Mr. Lasseter and some more crew in the cutter of the Watch Dog returning to the wharf.

I finish her sentence for her, " we will inform our Quartermaster o' the fleet and let 'im decide our actions." Smiling, she hears the answer she's wanted . . . :

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

"How are you, Tempest?"

He did not often call her by name and the question seemed more searching. It implied that he thought something might be wrong, or that he wished to be sure that nothing was by asking.

"Sir?"

"How are you, Tempest? You've been in the company of many wounded and sick individuals of late with little time on or off the ship."

"I believe I am well enough." she said, answering too quickly it seemed for his tastes.

He elaborated. "The health of my crew is of paramount importance to me. I cannot sail the ship without them, nor would I care to sail with men and women of poor health and failing morale. Since their condition is predicated entirely on your measure of them, you must occasionally be measured as well. Consider me the weights and measures man come to verify that you are an accurate instrument against which all others will be weighed."

He paused. Then placing his hand gently on her arm he asked her again. "How are you, my good Miss Fitzgerald?"

The mental gears churned rapidly at the Captain's insistance of query and she wished secretly, that subjects were kept to those of order and duty. Once again she was reminded of her inabilities when in the square with William; that his preceptions of what was and was not, made it difficult for her to be evasive. Patting his large hand with one of her own, the Surgeon offered a smile upon features that were of stoic set under the norm.

"Sir, I should be the least of your concerns under current circumstances. What I have endured here is far less than that of the past, I assure. I was in Rosas when Noailles besieged in 1693 and Barcelona in '96...What occures here is pale by comparrison..."

Tempest's voice drifted to silence and her sight was drawn again to the cutter.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::gaining the sternsheets of the cutter, Mr. Lasseter gazed at the assembled crew, champing at the bit to head shoreward... Mr. Warren gave way for the Quartermaster to take the helm...::

No, Mr. Warren... yer master o' this craft... I've much on me mind... take us ta shore at yer leasure...

::He turned away from the tiller and found a spot to dwell on the leeward side of the cutter, away from the mast. He was deep in thought, yet ever vigilant to what went on around him... He noticed the crew in their glee to be headed to fulfill their urges, to release pent up pressures from the routine at sea... He also moticed an uneasy undertone as well... maybe from the dower look he had on his face, so he tried to relax, allowing a smile to play on his face as he tilted his head up to the sunlight... He looked back at the ship, seeing the Captain and the Surgeon at the rail, and in a low, low voice, barely audible, began to sing to himself...::

Mmmm.... when green eye's 'r smilin'.....

::lost in his thoughts and attempts to relax, he barely noted the time it took for the swift cutter to make the warf...::

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Why am I like this? was the only thought that was running through Tudor's head as she sat in stiff posture as the cutter closed the distance between the Watch Dog and the shore , not looking at Armand. She was entirely uncapable of relaxing around him, so instead she tried to fill her mind with chores she needed to see to once ashore. The cutter made it to the shore, and before it could even be tied off, Tudor jumped up out of her seat.

[William Brand]

"Sir, I should be the least of your concerns under current circumstances. What I have endured here is far less than that of the past, I assure. I was in Rosas when Noailles besieged in 1693 and Barcelona in '96...What occures here is pale by comparrison..."

"Why, Doctor, that is no answer at all. While it may be true that you are not my greatest concern when compared to all of my present concerns, you are the concern I am addressing, as the others cannot be answered for the present anyway."

She said nothing, and being in a talkative mood, he pressed forward. "I cannot speak of Noailles or Barcelona. I can only speak of matters within my own sphere. It is never fair of us to speak of things past when we are troubled in the present.

We may travel by constant stars, but the medium of our locomotion is a fluid as we are."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

She kept her focus to the cutter's passage to shore, a small hint of jaw clench appeared then retreated. Turning to lean against rail support, the green sights centered on his face.

" Why, Capitaine... All this flowered speech gives me the impression that you are dancing around some subject that you wish not to be brazen in approaching. What is it that you desire to know beyond what I have told. I would think that my answer has been of sufficant means, but am willing to entertain further."

[William Brand]

"Dancing? The same could be said of your answers, though I would have chosen the word dodging." He smiled and leaned on the rail. "No, Doctor. I put the question to you because I don't know what it is that I should ask. I'm just fencing at night. Swinging hither and yon in hopes of hitting something. You often gently parry away any questions directed at yourself."

He looked out at the cutter. He watched her watching it.

"Take the cutter for example. You might be watching its progress to the dock out of concern for Armand. Understandable. You might have some secret longing for Mister Lasseter. Or those flirtations that pass between could be nothing at all. Your concern could be for our young Steward, Miss Smith. A young woman in a strange land. Or, you may only have your eyes on the craft itself while your mind is entirely off on other shores. One could speculate for hours on the many things which may or may not be occuring in your mind. I prefer the pragmatic approach.

How are you, Miss Fitzgerald?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

::Just as Mr. Warren was about to give the order to tie off, Ms. Smith abruptly stood, as if to jump from the craft...::

Easy gerl... ye be un'appy in a small boat? we be on land soon enough...

::Slightly pink, she slowly regained her seat, as the QuarterMaster smiled at her, glancing to Armand and back...::

A'right Lads... first order o' business, offload all th' cargo, boat crew shall be posted as guards to I make th' trades... All else, yer off on liberty, with ONE caveat... any o' ye sees Mr. PEW an Mr. Franklin... you bring 'em back here on th' double - no, on the tripple... put 'em on th' cutter under guard til I get back...

::with grins all around, the crew started the chore of offloading the barrels, crates and packets onto the warf, the guards armed with musket, pistol, and cutlass took position as the rest of them took to their heels, headed for mischief... Mr. Lasseter stood, hands folded behind him, seeing the two Stewards awaiting his wishes...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

"Dancing? The same could be said of your answers, though I would have chosen the word dodging." He smiled and leaned on the rail. "No, Doctor. I put the question to you because I don't know what it is that I should ask. I'm just fencing at night. Swinging hither and yon in hopes of hitting something. You often gently parry away any questions directed at yourself."

He looked out at the cutter. He watched her watching it.

"Take the cutter for example. You might be watching its progress to the dock out of concern for Armand. Understandable. You might have some secret longing for Mister Lasseter. Or those flirtations that pass between could be nothing at all. Your concern could be for our young Steward, Miss Smith. A young woman in a strange land. Or, you may only have your eyes on the craft itself while your mind is entirely off on other shores. One could speculate for hours on the many things which may or may not be occuring in your mind. I prefer the pragmatic approach.

How are you, Miss Fitzgerald?"

" Mon bon capitaine, tu fair les quatre cents coups..." The Surgeon scrutinized his expression briefly then stood away from the rail, hands clasped behind her lower back. " A bout in the darkness can prove a dangerous thing...But I speak in a manner of boldness. To answer your question, Sir...I am well and thank you for your concern. C'est bien aimable de votre part, a vous."

The Surgeon gave a smallish nod of head.

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

.::Just as Mr. Warren was about to give the order to tie off, Ms. Smith abruptly stood, as if to jump from the craft...::

Easy gerl... ye be un'appy in a small boat? we be on land soon enough...

::Slightly pink, she slowly regained her seat, as the QuarterMaster smiled at her, glancing to Armand and back...::

A'right Lads... first order o' business, offload all th' cargo, boat crew shall be posted as guards to I make th' trades... All else, yer off on liberty, with ONE caveat... any o' ye sees Mr. PEW an Mr. Franklin... you bring 'em back here on th' double - no, on the tripple... put 'em on th' cutter under guard til I get back...

::with grins all around, the crew started the chore of offloading the barrels, crates and packets onto the warf, the guards armed with musket, pistol, and cutlass took position as the rest of them took to their heels, headed for mischief... Mr. Lasseter stood, hands folded behind him, seeing the two Stewards awaiting his wishes...::

With whispered apologies to the Quatermaster, Tudor sat herself back down. She pretended to not notice Mr. Lasseter's pointed looks, between herself and the frenchman next to her. She listened to the orders for the leave, then waited patiently as the crew unloaded.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

A wagon was arranged in which to transport the goods brought ashore with more ease. The cutter's company had grown steadily smaller as Liberty men departed for the choices of local fare. Standing near the Quartermaster, Armand slyed glances to their female companion and was amused by her reactions to the sights, sounds and scents of Spanish qualities. His mind was drawn to the Barcalona campaigne and how he had been much the same after the carnage had ended and the peace was signed. Spain was not without its pleasures and giving a glance to the obvious structure of bordello up the rise, he was sure that this cousin was much the same. It was locked in the purusal of memories, that a voice of bright and insistant nature called from near distance behind.

" Armand!...Mon dieu, mon ami! Armand D'esnumbuc!!"

The calling of name startled his train of thought and with conditioned reaction, the Gascon reached to the grip slung at left hip and turned slowly. The steely set of eyes warmed immediately to the caller's recognition.

"Merde'! Antoine! Antoine Grandjean!!"

The Gascon closed the distance to meet the other with a wide smile crossing his features.

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Watching from me perch high up in the crows nest I watched as the cutter made its depart and too the easy conversation of me captain and the surgeon below. When the cutter finally made its docking I went back about me buisness off shore noticing the ever increasing numbers of seabirds making lands return for their night to spend it being both off wing and water. I surmised that the next crew to make shore leave would most assuredly be with ships balance though I hadn't seen our master gunner and our smith nor carpenter I were wondering if they were taking leave in some game below maybe darts or bones? Ne'r to mind there were three ships all coming into port now and all three were with spanish flag though as anchored we were on the bays southern west slope they all came in from the north by north east (I cupped me hands to say) sails ho captain three across point approaching from the north sir. Wearing Spanish colors they be. One large galleon and two frigates it looks to me sir.

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

While her glances in ever which direction may have looked only like a frantic attempt to recover from sensory overload due to new sights and sounds, but in reality, there was very few details that were missed by her flitting grey eyes. Sadly the one detail she did miss was the man in the distance, who was eyeing up Armand quizzically. She nearly leaped a foot into the air when she heard the the Doctor's Steward's name being called.

Tudor watched amusedly as the stranger was recognised, and the warm reception he recived, wondering if there were going to be introductions.

[Pew]

::We stand near the wharf admiring the catch from the morning in one of the pescadores wagons. Looking back at the docks, I hear a familiar voice.

"Ahoy there Mr. Pew!! You and Mr. Franklin stand fast!! I want to speak with you both!", shouts Mr. Lasseter fromthe deck of the cutter.

"Now we be in for it", Eric whispers in my ear . . .::

[William Brand]

"Dancing?  The same could be said of your answers, though I would have chosen the word dodging."  He smiled and leaned on the rail.  "No, Doctor.  I put the question to you because I don't know what it is that I should ask.  I'm just fencing at night.  Swinging hither and yon in hopes of hitting something.  You often gently parry away any questions directed at yourself."

He looked out at the cutter.  He watched her watching it.

"Take the cutter for example.  You might be watching its progress to the dock out of concern for Armand.  Understandable.  You might have some secret longing for Mister Lasseter.  Or those flirtations that pass between could be nothing at all.  Your concern could be for our young Steward, Miss Smith.  A young woman in a strange land.  Or, you may only have your eyes on the craft itself while your mind is entirely off on other shores.  One could speculate for hours on the many things which may or may not be occuring in your mind.  I prefer the pragmatic approach.

How are you, Miss Fitzgerald?"

" Mon bon capitaine, tu fair les quatre cents coups..." The Surgeon scrutinized his expression briefly then stood away from the rail, hands clasped behind her lower back. " A bout in the darkness can prove a dangerous thing...But I speak in a manner of boldness. To answer your question, Sir...I am well and thank you for your concern. C'est bien aimable de votre part, a vous."

The Surgeon gave a smallish nod of head.

William nodded in return. He made as if to speak again, but instead, he excused himself from her company.

"Doctor."

He made his way below and began the necessary duties of cleaning his coat and brushing all of his gear with brush and polish. He did this all in a meditative silence.