T-plus 50 hours

[highfunctioning]

Sherlock had been among the first to leave the customs area, due in part to the fact that he didn't announce this plan to anyone. Just tried a door -found it unlocked. He didn't have time for decision by committee, nor for continuing to listen to them all snivel about being homesick.

The ship was dark and, just as the room he'd left, untouched for a significant length of time. He trawled in semi darkness and tried every door he bumped into with no success. He wasn't able to walk far enough in one direction to guess at the shape or size of the ship, which was incredibly irritating.

At last, a door yielded to him, and he walked a few steps into a room before cracking his shin on an unseen piece of furniture.

Oh bloody hell goddamn son of a bitch fuck!

As he reached out to see what needed to die, he bumped quite accidentally into the safety torch [so it seemed to him, having no buttons or sharp edges] which blossomed to light at his accidental graze. It gave him a good enough look at the room.

Welcome to outer space, furnished by IKEA. He for one didn't plan on staying, and as such wasn't all that interested in checking out the space loo. He grabbed the torch and moved on.

---MANY HOURS LATER---

Snarling and beginning to look damn rough around the edges [two days unshaven] Sherlock sat in a pile of debris in the hall outside one of the bedrooms. Space forks, space ottomans, and space chairs lay all around him, the discarded tools of his would-be breaking of the panel opposite him. It had seemed more likely than the ones in the customs room, but had rebuffed him thoroughly.

He had long since ditched the hooded shirt [it was part of the pile] and was gathering his strength for another go at the wall. Capitulation was not an option.

Comments

[highfunctioning]

I get that reaction a lot.

Now in total darkness, Sherlock tried to feel his way back to the torch he'd been carrying.

The villagers will probably be pretty irate if this is a widespread blackout. Though he doubted it from the strength of the shock he'd received -not enough juice there to power the whole ship, anyway.

[wholeworldoutthere]

And now Sherlock was crawling away from Klaus's offered hand. That made him frown, a frown which cleared when he noticed that Sherlock seemed to be feeling his way across the floor, as if he could not see a thing.

Oh yes, his frown cleared. He might not have his usual eyesight, but he still had better eyesight than a human. That was certainly good news, after his little show of strength.

Now that he'd realised the problem, he pulled a flashlight out of the pocket of his hoodie and turned it on. "Here."

[highfunctioning]

Now that he could see, Sherlock felt very silly crawling around on the floor in front of the vampire. Who else could he be? He was quite close to believing Mycroft's assessment of him as well, but that could wait.

He stood and snatched the torch, went back to fiddling with the wiring.

When in doubt, try everything.

[wholeworldoutthere]

Fine, then, not like Klaus absolutely needed the flashlight. He rolled his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and turned on his heels. "Try not to make anything explode," he recommended over his shoulder, although he did not sound very concerned.