Think before you blink and you might just make it

It'd been nice if them super heroes put on a police uniform rather than goin' off on their own, but Gotham was a million years ago, so I don't know what I'm saying any more.

[Private to Hoffman]

Where'd you wander off to, anyway? [He doesn't like you, particularly, but in fairness, he doesn't like much of anybody, and he's curious.]

[Slater is in no condition to go to work or do anything much at all. Returning to himself, he was left with a vague feeling of Del Boy's feelings and as odd as that would be in of itself, what Del had been feeling made him feel even worse.

It was only when he realised that his bottle had been empty that he pulled himself together enough to reach for his communicator.]

[Private to Hannibal]

That was your sister, right? Didn't make it, did she.

[Private to George]

Seeing as you're up. Get me a bottle of Paddy's whiskey. Actually, you know? Make it two.

No questions.

[A tubby, smiling (if a little nervously) man with a big coat appears on screen. It's askew, because Del Boy and technology are not a good mix. It's frankly a wonder it's not smoking or something. He shrugs his coat into proper position.] All right? [His voice is too loud for it, and he shifts.

Then a smirk.] Here, anybody know 'Roy Slater'? Grumpy old sod... [He spots a picture off to the side.] Looks like this?

Right then. [There's a big old pause here because a) while that sounded firm, Slater's no clue where he is and b) he's not entirely sure this thing can hear him and he's not just talking to a telly. He's revealing his nervousness by rolling a metal slinky back and forth in his hands.] Yeah. Uh. Where am I and... well this ain't home. Not even London, no traffic, so maybe anybody tell me how I got here?

[Shortly after flood hits, a little old lady peers out the door before shuffling out. Why would her son do this to her? She doesn't want to be on a spaceship. She wants to be at home. Ruby wasn't meant for space barges and she certainly doesn't know how to work communicators.]

I wanted to be Bluebeard.

[Rolls his eyes, got me again!.] As a kid! All right? As a kid.

[Private to Randal]

Here, what you do to Howie? It's like he's plottin' a coup against ya, mate. [He's only doing this because he actually likes Howie, and this is the Barge, so something's up.]

[When the lights went out, Slater just sat in the dark. He didn't bloody care. Alone, on a ship in space, with people getting murdered and blown up, he wanted to go home. That's all.

All he'd ever done was steal some diamonds. And he went to prison for that. So what was he being punished for? Because whatever that kid said, she was just a girl, what did she know? What was she doing here even?

So he just sat in the dark, brooding, not hungry, not caring, if anything, glad that his room looked like a room in a proper bloody prison. His communicator was left on, whatever chattering going on failing to really grab his attention.

Eventually, he let out a sigh, pulled himself up off the ground and groped for the door. His eyes were pretty adjusted, with the light from the communicator, still chattering, so he didn't feel too strange.

He kept to the walls and took the steps, one by one up onto the deck. Once there, he found himself a corner where he could see people coming and going and sat there, on the ground again, watching though not looking particularly interested and not meeting anyone's eyes.]