Which made no sense at all, really, since he had been in his apartment, bent over a case file that he'd been forced to work on into the night in order to make sure all the loose ends were neatly tied up. The sudden change in scenery could mean only one thing-he was dreaming.
That settled, he surveyed the other people on the ship, none of whom he recognized. His dreams liked to give him new faces every time, it seemed.
"Evening," he said, then looked up. "Or...afternoon." He raised an eyebrow.