Lestrade stormed down the halls of this crazy bloody ship, scowling. He hated it here. Almost everyone who annoyed him in real life was here, and he couldn't do his job. What use was Sherlock Holmes if there weren't cases to toss at him? And Moriarty... Good God, something had to be done with that lunatic. At least John was here to keep Holmes in line. He hadn't seen anything yet that would do that for Moriarty.
The whole damn thing gave him a headache. Maybe it wasn't his problem. Someone owned this ship, maybe he could foist it off on them.
He turned a corner and ran straight into a reject from a historical reenactment. Oh, Christ. Just what he needed, more weird.