#reddwarffanfic

[pinktintedmonocle]

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served At An Undetermined Temperature - A Red Dwarf Fanfic

On the hunt for new sleeping quarters, Rimmer is finally forced to confront his past when a detour sees him and Lister end up in the very Officer’s Club where the infamous gazpacho soup incident occurred.

In this fic I’ve gone with the idea that there is more than one Officer’s Club on board Red Dwarf. That is something that for some reason I always just assumed to be the case, but after doing some research I’m pretty sure there is actually only supposed to be one.  But I like the idea that there are a few dotted around the ship and that Rimmer has always avoided stepping foot in the one where he was served the gazpacho soup, so I decided to stick with it.

“Do you think the reason they’re called shag pile carpets is because people shag on them a lot?” asked Lister, hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Rimmer frowned. “Can’t say I’ve ever given it much thought, Listy.  Possibly. Although why then are they called ‘shag pile’ and not just ‘shag’?  Where does the pile come in?”

Lister turned his head and looked at Rimmer with a grin.  “Maybe it’s ‘cause after you’ve shagged on one and you lie on it for too long after you get piles!”

“And on that note, I’m leaving”, said Rimmer.  He started to clamber to his feet but Lister grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back down.

“Rimmer, you can’t just love me and leave me!” Lister protested.  “Come on, let’s have a cuddle.”

Rimmer puffed out his cheeks in annoyance.  “We’ve got things to do Listy!  We can’t just lie down and canoodle all day.  We need to finish looking at the rooms on this floor and the next before we take an extended break.”

“It’ll just be a quick one!” said Lister.  “Five minutes, tops.  I swear.  Then we can get on.”

“Fine”, Rimmer replied, making himself comfortable on the plush carpet.  “But only five minutes!”

Lister turned and pulled the end of a nearby table cloth.  It rose into the air with a shower of dust (clearly Kryten hadn’t cleaned this room in a while, Rimmer noted) before it fell to the floor and Lister wrapped it around them.  He rested his head on Rimmer’s chest and was soon snoring softly.

Rimmer sighed, resigned to the fact that they were likely to be there for much longer than five minutes. He shifted slightly and grimaced. Was it possible for a hologram to get piles?  He wasn’t particularly keen to find out.  He let his head fall to one side and stared at the soft carpet.  It was deep plum, a rich and luxurious colour.  It was also, Rimmer realised with a frown, oddly familiar. He had a memory of walking on a carpet just like this, of glancing down at well-polished dress shoes as they sunk into dark purple softness.  When was the last time he had worn those shoes?  It was definitely before he died; in the memory he could see a crease in the leather along the toe line, a feature missing from hologrammatic footwear. But when had he worn such smart shoes when he was still alive?  There had been the occasional wedding or funeral when he was younger and still living at home, but his feet were fully grown in the memory.  There was only one time when he would have worn shoes like that as an adult; that night, that terrible, terrible night…

Rimmer swivelled his head around as far as he could with a still slumbering Lister on his chest, taking in as much of the rest of the room as possible.  There was a big table, now devoid of its cloth, with a dozen or so ornate chairs surrounding it.  On a sideboard were napkins tied with delicate purple ribbons that matched the carpet next to an assortment of spoons and crockery, as if in preparation for a dinner party.  Rimmer knew this, because he’d been to one of those very dinner parties on the worst night of his life.

Because this wasn’t just any room, it was the room, the room that Rimmer had avoided stepping into for the last thirty years.  It was the Officer’s Club where he had been served the Gazpacho Soup.

**********************************************************************************

Rimmer had been rudely woken in the early hours of the morning by a thud, a yell and a boot colliding with the side of his head, all in quick succession.  He had sat up wildly in the dark, yelling for Holly to turn the lights on, only to be confronted by the glare of a very disgruntled Lister who was sprawled out on the floor.  

Rimmer had blinked groggily, staring down at his irritated lover as he rubbed his temple.  “Listy, what are you doing down there at this ungodly hour?  Why are you throwing things are me?”

Lister scowled up him. “You rolled me out of bed again, smeghead!  I was havin’ a great dream about eating lamb vindaloo with Jim Bexley Speed in a campervan made of cheese.  He was just carvin’ a block of cheddar out of the wall so we could grate it on top of our curries when you flopped over and threw me to the ground!

“It wasn’t intentional!” Rimmer said defensively.  “You know what I’m like when I’m sleeping, I move around more than Jane Fonda during an aerobics session, I can’t help it!”

Lister hauled himself up, wincing.  “Yeah, I know, but it’s the third time this week, Rimmer!  I can’t go on like this, man.  The other day I was so knackered I dozed off in me cornflakes and got grated onion up me nose!”  He sat on the edge of Rimmer’s bunk and sighed deeply.  “This just isn’t workin’.”

Rimmer had felt his whole body stiffen and a feeling of cold dread trickled down his spine as he prepared for Lister to break up with him.  It’s fine, he told himself (it wasn’t), I don’t need him (he did), I can still function perfectly well without being able to kiss him whenever I please (he couldn’t).  

So it came as an immense relief when Lister simply said, “We need to find a bigger bed.  Like, now.  I swear, if don’t get me head down and have a proper kip soon I’ll be barmier than Holly after… well, I’ll just be barmier than Holly full stop.”

“Oi!” protested Holly, appearing on the vid screen with a frown.  Lister ignored him.

And so the pair of them had spent all morning traipsing around the ship, attempting to find a room where both of them were happy to lay their hat (“I don’t have a hat”, Rimmer had said, confused.  Lister had rolled his eyes.  “It’s just an expression, man.”)

This was easier said than done.  Every mattress that was squishy enough for Lister was far too soft for Rimmer, while every mattress that was firm enough for Rimmer had Lister claiming that it’d be more comfortable to sleep on concrete.  Lister’s favourite rooms were too bright and garish for Rimmer, while Rimmer’s preferred dwellings were so gloomy and spartan that Lister had sarcastically suggested that they might as well just go and live in the Tank.

After several hours of this, both of them growing more irritable with every rejected abode, they had ended up yelling at each in a random corridor for a good ten minutes before Lister had thrown himself at Rimmer and glued their lips together in a highly charged kiss.  Still stuck together they had stumbled into the nearest room and proceeded to have it off on the surprisingly soft carpet.  And after that came the conversation about shag-pile, shagging and piles before Lister fell asleep and Rimmer realised with a sickening lurch exactly what room it was they had just made love in.

**********************************************************************************

Rimmer closed his eyes tightly, screwed up his face and waited for the inevitable wave of nerve shattering panic to hit him.  Perhaps, if he stayed very, very still during this episode of mental anguish Lister wouldn’t wake up until it was mostly over and he had regained coherent speech and the full use of his limbs.  Was it even possible to have a completely silent and motionless anxiety attack? All of his previous ones had been quite obvious and all had ended up with him being committed to the ship’s psychiatric ward on a stretcher with his arms pinned to his sides.  What would Lister do if he woke to find Rimmer in such a state?  He imagined himself strapped on a bed in the Medi-Bay, Kryten trying to coax him to open his mouth just enough to put a holo-thermometer in it while Lister hovered anxiously by his bedside and the Cat just pointed at him and laughed.

In fact, Rimmer was so busy trying to make his panic attack as non-verbal and unnoticeable as possible that it was several minutes before he realised that he wasn’t actually having a panic attack.  But why wasn’t he?  This was the room in which all his hopes and dreams had been shattered into a million pieces, the room in which his aspirations to become an officer were taken away from him by a poxy bowl of icy vegetable broth. He remembered how excited he’d been when he finally got an invitation to attend a dinner in one of the Officer’s Clubs, one of those little pockets of exclusivity that seemed to be present on almost every floor, before he’d actually arrived and it had all turned to smeg. He had vowed to himself that night as he left the club in shame that he would never set foot in that room again and he had stuck to that vow for over thirty years.  Every time the others suggested a party in an Officer’s Club he had made sure they chose one of the other ones, any other one, just not this one.  He should be beside himself, wracked with unbearable anguish, but instead he just felt…indifferent.

There must be an issue with the hologram simulation suite, Rimmer thought, desperately trying to think of a reasonable explanation and immediately imagining the worst case scenario. Maybe Kryten is cleaning in there and unplugged my emotion banks so he could hoover, or the Cat has turned off the neutral processors so he could plug in his hot wax machine.  Or maybe my light bee is on its way out and isn’t connected to the mainframe anymore. In a few minutes I’ll probably just be a gibbering wreck in a hard-light husk and Lister will hate me for leaving him. Again.  Rimmer’s breath caught in his chest and he started to hyperventilate. He tried to reason with himself that, being dead, he didn’t actually need to breathe and could stop at any time, but that just made him think about being properly dead, being gone dead, the kind of dead that meant he couldn’t snuggle with Lister in the evenings, and that just made his breathing even more erratic.

Lister stirred, his nap distributed by Rimmer’s heaving chest. He lifted his head and blinked blearily at the hologram, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.  

“Rimmer!  What’s the matter, man?”

Rimmer tried to speak but couldn’t fit words in-between his shuddering breaths.  He pushed Lister off him, clambered to his feet and stumbled across the room before bracing himself against the table.

Lister quickly followed him and laid a hand on Rimmer’s back, rubbing soft circles into the hologrammatic flesh.  “Just try and breathe slow, Rimmer.  In through your nose, out through your mouth, yeah?  Try and relax, man.”

Although still caught in the throes of anxiety, the soothing motion of Lister’s hand calmed Rimmer down just enough to allow him to begin to even out his breathing and regain the power of speech.

“Panic attack”, he rasped. “I’m not, I’m not-“, he broke off as his breathing sped up again.  

Lister placed his other hand on Rimmer’s back as well and continued to rub gently.  ““Right, panic attack.  Do you know what caused it?”

Rimmer took a deep, shuddering breath.  “Because I didn’t have one!”

“Have one what?”, Lister asked, confused.

“A panic attack!”

“Hang on”, said Lister. “Are you telling me that you’re havin’ a panic attack because you didn’t have a panic attack?”

“Precisely!”, Rimmer snapped, before leaning further over the table and continuing to pant.  Lister’s ministrations on his back ceased and instead the shorter man grabbed Rimmer firmly by the shoulders and turned him around so they were facing each other.

“Rimmer, just talk to me, man!  What’s going on?”

“It’s this room!”, Rimmer wailed.  “It’s the Gazpacho Soup room!  It’s the room that haunts my nightmares and in which my dreams were cruelly snatched away from me and yet I can’t seem to care!  Which must mean that there is something horribly wrong with me and that soon I’ll shut down permanently and I’ll either just disappear completely or freeze in place and the Cat will use me as a hat stand!”

Lister blinked slowly as if trying to absorb a lot of information at once.

“What’s your middle name, Rimmer?”

“What”?, asked Rimmer, so perplexed by this non sequitur that he suddenly stopped hyperventilating.

“Well”, Lister explained, “If you’re really shutting down and losin’ parts of your mind there’ll be more missin’ than just the memory of how you felt that night.  So, what’s your middle name?”

“Judas”, Rimmer replied, not missing a beat.

“And the names of your brothers?”

“Howard, Frank and John.”

“The school you went to?”

“Io House.”

“The name of the company that runs the ship?”

“The Jupiter Mining Corporation.”

Lister’s hands moved down from Rimmer’s shoulders to his arms and he squeezed his biceps softly.

“And what do you think about Kryten?”

Rimmer huffed.  “He’s a square headed git.”

“And Cat?”

“Feline imbecile with the concentration span of a brain damaged goldfish.”

“And what about Captain Hollister or Toddhunter or Petersen?  How did you feel about them?”

“The undisputed champion of Mr All American Lard-Ass, insufferable posh goit, vile Danish gimboid with all the charisma of a particularly rude and putrid skunk.”

Lister took a step closer. “And how do you feel about me?”

Rimmer gazed down into Lister’s dark brown eyes and felt a blush rising in his cheeks.  “You know how I feel about you”, he said softly.

Lister stood on his tiptoes, leant in and pressed a gentle kiss to Rimmer’s lips before stepping back with a smile.  “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, Rimmer.”

Rimmer blinked in confusion. “But there must be!  Why aren’t I panicking?  It makes less sense than the plot of a Sylvester Stallone film!”

“It makes perfect sense, Rimmer!”, said Lister.  “You’re not panicking because of some electrical fault or because Cat has decided it’s time to remove his leg hair, you’re not panicking because I think you’ve just got over it.”

Rimmer’s mouth fell open in shock.  “Over it?  Listy, the Gazpacho Soup incident was the single most humiliating experience of my life, how on Io would I have just gotten over it?”

“Because you’re not that person anymore, Rimmer!”, Lister exclaimed.  “You were still really young when that happened!”

“I was thirty!”

“Thirty is still young!”, Lister protested, tugging on his dreads in exasperation.  “I mean, most people are still figurin’ out who they are at that age; nobody’s properly grown up by then apart from antiques experts and chartered accountants and I’m pretty sure they’re just born old anyway.  But you’ve been through so much smeg since then, man; you’ve been to an alternative universe where time runs backwards, you were a prisoner on a planet created by your own mind, you’ve battled GELF’s and simulants, you’ve learned that cloning yourself is a really, really bad idea and you even became Ace and went off to save the universe for a bit!  Your world is so much bigger now than a bowl of smegging soup!”

“But it was the worst thing that even happened to me”, Rimmer said weakly, doubt creeping in his voice.  “It haunts my dreams…”

“Yeah?  When was the last time you dreamt about it?  Last week, last year?  Have you even dreamt about it in last decade?”

Rimmer’s mind raced. When was the last time he had actually thought or dreamt about it?  It had seemed just like yesterday when the memory had rushed back to him while lying on the carpet, but now that he had calmed down it was starting to feel like something that had happened a long time ago to someone who wasn’t quite him.  When he had returned from being Ace it had been easy to slip back into his old ways, to wear his old persona like a cosy if slightly worn blanket.  But was that really him anymore?  He had seen and done so much since he’d died, both on board Red Dwarf and during his time as Ace, so many wonderful and horrific things, but he’d never really thought about how they might have changed him.  But he had changed, hadn’t he?  The person he used to be would never have been brave enough to amid his feelings for Lister, let alone start a romantic relationship with him.  He stared at Lister, eyes wide.

“Do you really think I’ve just gotten over it?”

Lister nodded and stepped forward again.  “Yeah, Rimmer, I really do.”

Rimmer’s shoulders slumped. “I never thought I’d get over it, not ever, and now apparently I have without even realising it.  I mean, they were my final words, Listy!  Gazpacho Soup.  I thought nothing as terrible as that night would ever happen to me, that it was the worst thing to ever happen to anyone in the whole universe.  But you’re right; after everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve seen, the way I felt about that soup just seems…pathetic.”

“Hey now!”, said Lister. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No!  Well, not exactly.”  Lister frowned.  “Look, when you’re young there’s always things that seem like they’re the whole world, you know?  Like they’re the be all and end all, the thing that defines you, and then when you get a bit older and look back it’s like, a bit embarrassin’ to think that you ever felt so strongly about something that doesn’t seem very important anymore.  But that doesn’t mean that you should be ashamed for ever feelin’ that way, because at the time it was that important and at the end of the day it’s those things that make us us, you know?  The way you felt about that soup then helped to make you who you are today, along with a billion other things that might seem a bit silly now but without which you wouldn’t the person standing in front of me. Because of all those things you became the person that I fell in love with, rather than someone I just wanted to punch in the throat.  Don’t get me wrong, you’re still a complete smeghead, but you’re so much more than that now.  You’re so much more than you were, Rimmer.”

Tears pricked Rimmer’s eyes and he blinked rapidly to clear them.  “When did you become so wise, Listy?  Or have you just been taking learning drugs and making your way through the philosophy section of the library?”

Lister hit him lightly on the arm.  “Oi! I’ve always been wise!”

They stood in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, before Rimmer spoke again.

“Did you really mean all those things, about me being more than I was?”, he asked tentatively.

Lister raised a hand to cup Rimmer’s jaw.  “Yeah, I did.”  He closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against Rimmer’s.  “’Cause it true.  After years of wadin’ through smeg and your own neuroses you’ve actually become an alright person, and I love you for that.”

Rimmer felt breathless again, although this time it was from pleasure rather than panic.  He leant into Lister’s touch.   “I love you too, Listy”, he said, his voice filled with tenderness.  “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything, more than my pet lemming or a well pressed uniform or a particularly thrilling game of Risk.”

They kissed, gentle and sweet.  Lister placed his other hand on Rimmer’s hip and one of Rimmer’s arms snaked around Lister’s back, pulling him even closer.  Just as the kiss began to intensify there was a loud rumble and Lister pulled away with a grimace, one hand falling to rest on his stomach.

“Think I need to get some grub.  Come on, we’ll pick this up later.”  He winked at Rimmer before walking over to his pile of discarded clothes.

Rimmer watched him go, eyes on Lister’s bare arse, before he tore his gaze away and looked down at his own body instead.  He realised with a jolt that he was also still completely naked.  “Uniform!” he barked and a fresh blue suit shimmered onto his body.

As Lister dressed, Rimmer turned his attention to the table.  When he had first set eyes upon it on that night it had seemed so grand and intimidating, an Officer’s table in an Officer’s Club, but now he saw there was nothing special about it at all; it was just a table, and a rather drab one at that.  Similarly, he could now see that the bowl of Gazpacho Soup had always just been a bowl of soup, despite the importance that he had attached to it at the time.  A bowl of cold soup couldn’t love you or hold you or comfort you on the long and lonely nights; it was just a stupid smegging status symbol, a strange and frankly quite disgusting dish adopted by the kind of posh goits who went to public school and became politicians and laughed at the poor behind their backs.  

Rimmer walked over to the very chair that he himself had sat in three million years ago and ran a hand over its dusty velvet back.  It was an odd feeling, to discover that you’d gotten over something that had once seemed so important without even realising that you had.  The Rimmers had not been the sort family to forgive and forget; they had been the kind of people who held on to every grudge and petty jealously until the day they died.  Great Aunt Susan had received a lifetime ban from family Sunday lunches at the age of eighty-seven for falling asleep during the main course and knocking a brimming gravy boat over a pristine hand-embroidered tablecloth belonging to Rimmer’s mother (although Rimmer had always suspected his Great Aunt was quite relieved to not have to attend the meal anymore; she was far too old for all the hopping, which is probably why she fell asleep in the first place).  His brother Frank had cajoled his rival for Janine’s affections into being the best man at their wedding just so the poor sod was forced to watch another man marry the woman he loved; Rimmer still remembered the way he had broken down in tears during his speech and had to be carried out by Howard and John while Frank sneered evilly, clutching the hand of his new bride.  The man who he had thought was his father had been the worst of them all, stretching his sons to ensure they could join the Space Corps just because he was rejected for being one inch below regulation height. There was, Rimmer realised, a distinct possibility that he was the first ever Rimmer to actually let something go. He allowed himself to feel a little smug about that.

“Hey”, said Lister as he wiggled back into his trousers, “Can you imagine the look on Captain Hollister’s face if he could see what we’ve done in here?  Having sex in one of his precious Officer’s Clubs before declaring our love for each other stark smegging naked!  He’d probably have a heart attack!  It’d be a good revenge for the way he treated us, wouldn’t it?”

Rimmer snorted in amusement. “Yes, it certainly would Listy! Just a shame it’s three million years too late.”

Lister grinned. “Well, you know what they say, Rimmer; revenge is a dish-“

“I may have gotten over it, but if you finish that sentence with the phrase ‘best served cold’ I will garrotte you with a napkin ribbon.”

“I was going to say ‘revenge is a dish best served at whatever smegging temperature you want to serve it at’!” Lister replied defensively.

Rimmer rolled his eyes. “People don’t say that, Listy.”

“Yeah they do!  ‘Cause I’m the only person left alive so whatever I say is what people say.  Besides, only proper disgusting things are served cold, like salad and that raw fish you get in fancy restaurants.”

“Sushi”, said Rimmer.

“Bless you”, said Lister. “Anyway, all the best things are served either hot or warm; curry, naan bread, lager.  Talking of which, think I’ll get Kryten to knock me up a chicken balti for lunch.  You comin’?"

“What, to watch you wolf down over spiced poultry with all the grace of a BEGG devouring a fresh pile of garbage?  I may love you, Listy, but there are some things I draw a line at.  Think I’ll finish looking at the rooms on this floor while you stuff your face.”

“No, you won’t!”, protested Lister, waggling a finger as he finished tying the laces on his boots and shrugged his jacket on.  “You’ll ignore all the decent ones and choose one that looks like a crypt.  Come on, quick lunch then we’ll finish lookin’ together.”

“Alright, fine”, Rimmer huffed.  He walked to the door and held it open for Lister.

Lister sauntered over and stopped in the doorway, pressing Rimmer against the frame and brushing his lips against the hologram’s ear.

“And you know, the faster we eat and choose a room, the less time it’ll be before you can bend me over backwards and shag me into a mattress.”  Lister stepped back with a wicked grin and started to walk down the corridor.  Rimmer gulped and took a moment to compose himself before following swiftly behind.

As they walked Lister reached out and gave Rimmer’s hand a reassuring squeeze.  “You OK now, Rimmer?”

“Yes”, said Rimmer, a rare but genuine smile lighting up his face.  “In fact, I’d say I’m more than just OK.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes”, said Rimmer. “I’m super.”

Thanks to @janamelie, @daveylisters and @ohhhyestottytottytotty for their help in figuring out how old Rimmer was during the Gazpacho Soup incident.

I was considering waiting until the 25th November to post this fic, but I’m been working on it for three smegging months and now it’s finally done I just really needed to post it and get it out into the world! (Or out into the Internet, at any rate). Hope you enjoyed it, dear reader, and hey – if you liked it you could always read it again on Gazpacho Soup day!

[pinktintedmonocle]

How Not To Kiss Your Lister In A Crisis - A Red Dwarf Fic

When Lister and Rimmer find themselves locked in a cell on-board a simulant death ship, Lister’s claustrophobia kicks in.  Rimmer attempts to distract him with a kiss.  Lister has some notes.

“I demand you unhand us right now, miladdo!” Rimmer screeched as the simulant dragged him and Lister down the corridor.  Their captor simply leered evilly at the hologram and continued to pull at the chains attached to the painfully tight handcuffs clamped around Rimmer and Lister’s wrists.

“We are employees of the Jupiter Mining Corporation, you can’t treat us like this!  If you don’t let us go I’ll send a strongly worded letter to your superior officer reporting you for gross misconduct!”

Lister rolled his eyes and then winced as the simulant gave another tug on the chain, causing him to stumble forward.  “Give it a rest, Rimmer, there’s no reasoning with it.  I doubt it even speaks English.”

“Perhaps it speaks Esperanto”, said Rimmer.  The hologram cleared his throat and spoke loudly and slowly.  “Vi odoras kiel krokodilo.”  He turned his head to address Lister.  “There. I’ve just politely asked him to release us from these shackles.”

Lister groaned.  “No, Rimmer.  You just told him he smells like a crocodile.  Anyway, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t speak English or Esperanto or any other language known to man.  Look, just be quiet for a minute will you?  I’m trying to think of a plan to get us out of here.”

Before Rimmer could reply the simulant came to an abrupt stop.  It spun a wheel handle on a heavy looking door and shoved Lister and Rimmer inside, chucking the chains in after them.  It then sealed the door behind them and thudded off back down the corridor.

Rimmer glared at Lister. “How’s that escape plan coming along, Listy?”

Lister pulled a face. “I’m working on it, man.  I’m working on it!”

Rimmer’s eyes flicked upwards.  “Any chance you could hurry up a bit?  I believe we got a deadline.”

It was then that Lister noticed the countdown clocks mounted near the ceiling on all four walls of the cell. A large red digital display had already started counting backwards from 05.00. As Lister watched, the display flashed 04.56.  Then 04.55. Then 04.54.

Lister gulped. “What’s it counting down to, do you reckon?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s something just lovely!” Rimmer replied, his voice strained.  “Maybe they’re going to treat us to a full roast dinner with all the trimmings and crumble for desert.  Or perhaps this room is a sauna and soon it’ll be filled with steam and afterwards we’ll have a Swedish massage.  Or possibly we’ll be blasted with some kind of radiation that’ll give us superpowers and bigger penises!  Or maybe, just maybe, and bear with me on this one as I know it’s a bit of a stretch, just maybe they are going to SMEGGING KILL US!”.  Rimmer screamed the last three words before throwing himself against the door.  “Let us out! I’m sorry I said you smell like a crocodile!  I didn’t mean it, you smell lovely!  Like freshly starched boxer shorts and camphor wood and well-worn leather!  All of the best smells!”

“It’s not there, Rimmer!” said Lister, exasperated.  He tried to place a reassuring hand on Rimmer’s shoulder but both his hands were bound in front of him in the heavy chains and he could barely raise them. “Look, just try and calm down OK? We’ll figure something out, just like we always do.”

“But what if we don’t?” wailed Rimmer.  “What if there’s no way out?”

“There has to be” Lister reassured him.  “There always is.”

But as Lister tried to assess their surroundings and come up with an escape plan, the words ‘no way out’ echoed in his mind and he felt his chest start to tighten.  Around him in the small cell the walls seemed to constrict and Lister’s breath started to quicken.

“What is it?” Rimmer barked. “What’s the matter with you?”

Lister closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing.  “The walls – the walls are closing in…”

“Are they?” yelled Rimmer.

Lister heard him shuffling rapidly around as if he was trying to see all four walls at once.

“Not literally, you goit!” Lister managed to say between breaths.  “It’s my claustrophobia!”

“Oh!” said Rimmer, sounding somewhat relived.  

Lister opened his eyes and scowled at Rimmer.  “It’s alright for you, you’re not the one in the middle of a full blown panic attack!” he puffed.

Rimmer looked slightly guilty.  “Well, is there anything I can do?”

“Distract me”, Lister panted.

“How?”

“I don’t know, just do the first thing that comes to mind!”

Rimmer tried to wring his hands, although it was made somewhat difficult by the cuffs.  “Nothing’s coming to mind!”

“Just do anything!” Lister heaved, feeling as if he was about to pass out. “Anything at all!”

Lister didn’t know what he had been expecting.  Maybe he had expected Rimmer to slap him, or start recalling a particularly exciting game of Risk he had played or to whip out a portable slide projector and start showing Lister several hundred photographs from his latest holiday in the diesel decks.  But the one thing Lister did not think would happen is that Rimmer would kiss him, which is why it came as such a surprise when Rimmer did exactly that.

**********************************************************************************

It had been a strange day, even by Lister’s standards.  The crew of Red Dwarf had thought their luck was in when they’d detected the derelict luxury cruise ship, and as they had got into Starbug and made their way over Lister had imagined all of the treasures they might find.  Perhaps they would have Michelin star worthy vindaloo’s, perfectly preserved for millions of years, or new games for the AR suite or even a guitar with more than five strings.

The others were equally excited to find out what goodies awaited so all four of them had boarded the ship.  They’d taken the usual precautions, with Lister, Cat and Rimmer all armed with bazookoids while Kryten scanned for life forms.  The ship was huge, but thankfully someone had drawn helpful red arrows on the floor which the boys from the Dwarf followed without question.  It wasn’t until Kryten had casually mentioned that a mechanoid who had been programmed to be a little more suspicious might think that the arrows were leading them into a trap that Lister had realised they were in deep smeg.  But before they could turn back something had bonked Lister on the head and he’d blacked out. He had come to sometime later to find the burly simulant guard handcuffing him and Rimmer before dragging them down a corridor.

And then had come the room with the countdown clocks and the claustrophobia and then, then, Rimmer had kissed him. Or at least tried to kiss him. The hologram’s lips were pursed and glued painfully tightly to Lister’s mouth without moving, so in fact it felt less like a kiss and more like an octopus had wrapped a tentacle around Lister’s head and was attempting to suffocate him with its suckers.

After several seconds Rimmer pulled back.  He cleared his throat loudly and then fixed his gaze upwards as if fascinated by a particular spot on the ceiling.

“There”, Rimmer said brusquely.  “Are you sufficiently distracted?”

Lister just gaped at Rimmer, his jaw open so wide that Lister half expected his chin to hit the floor like in the old cartoons he and the Cat liked to watch. After a few moments he regained the power of speech.

“That”, said Lister, “Was the worse smegging kiss I have ever had.”

Rimmer ceased his inspection of the ceiling and looked down at Lister in alarm. “Excuse me?”

“It was smegging awful, Rimmer!”  Lister exclaimed.  “It felt as if you were trying to render me unconscious using only your lips.”

“I was just trying to distract you!” Rimmer snapped back.  “I just did the first thing that came to mind, which is what you asked me to do!”

Lister cocked his head to one side.  “And the first thing that came into your mind was to kiss me, was it?”

“Well, I-I had – I mean – look, my options are somewhat limited in this small space, okay?” Rimmer stuttered.  “I could hardly have performed a Morris dance in here.  There isn’t enough room to get my knees up properly and I don’t have any bells or ribbons on me.”

Lister shrugged.  “Yeah, but you could have at least tried to make it a good snog, man.”

Rimmer looked perplexed.  “Why?”

“Why not?” asked Lister.  “I mean, why kiss someone badly when you could do it well?  Unless, of course, you don’t know how to kiss properly…”

“I know how to kiss, Listy!” Rimmer protested indignantly.  “I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent kisser when I want to be!”

“Oh yeah?” taunted Lister.

“Yes!” Rimmer shouted back.

“Prove it then!” Lister yelled.

“I will!” Rimmer screamed, before lunging forwards and once more covering Lister’s lips with his own.

This time it was different.  Rimmer’s lips moved against Lister’s, softly at first before becoming more insistent. Lister opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and his tongue met Rimmer’s, sending a shiver of excitement down Lister’s spine.  It was a little strange, kissing a hologram, but not unpleasant.  Lister’s tongue tingled pleasingly from the low level hum of electricity that ran through Rimmer’s body.  He was just thinking how he would like to tangle his fingers in Rimmer’s hair had his hands not been in chains when Rimmer used his body to push Lister back against the wall.  Rimmer’s bound hands found Lister’s and they stayed like that for a few moments, pressed up against each other while kissing and holding hands.

Eventually, Rimmer pulled back.  “Well?” he asked expectantly.  “Was that good enough for you?”

“I mean, it was better than before”, said Lister.  “But there is still some room for improvement.”

“Room for improvement?” Rimmer repeated, mimicking Lister’s accent. “That was a damn good kiss and you know it!”

“It was alright”, said Lister.  “But you could definitely work on making the experience a bit more pleasurable.”

“How?” Rimmer demanded.  “How would I improve my kissing, in your opinion?”

Lister opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say a word a loud beeping noise filled the room.

“What’s that?!” Rimmer shouted, his hands clasping Lister’s again although this time in panic rather than passion.

Lister looked up at the countdown clocks and swallowed nervously.  “I think we’ve reached our last minute.”

“Marvellous!” replied Rimmer sarcastically.  “And do you have a plan for how we’re going to get out of here yet?”

“Er, no”, Lister admitted.  “To be honest, I was a bit distracted by your decision to shove your tongue down my throat.”

“You asked me to distract you!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realise you were going to do it with your lips!”

They glowered at each other for a second before Rimmer’s shoulders slumped and his face crumpled.  “So that’s it then.  We’re destined to meet our maker in some particularly nasty manner on a simulant death ship where the crew don’t even speak Esperanto.”

“Not necessarily!” protested Lister.  “Kryten and Cat might have escaped and be on their way to break us out of here!”

Rimmer laughed humourlessly.  “What, a last minute rescue from crash test dummy head and that feline imbecile? We’ve got more chance of spontaneously turning into a sperm whale and a bowl of petunias.”

Lister shook his head in frustration.  “Hey, don’t be so negative man, you never know!”

There was another loud beep.

“Last twenty seconds”, Lister said quietly.  He looked at Rimmer.  “You know, if you wanted to practice kissing again I would be, like, willing to help.”

Rimmer stared at Lister in disbelief.  “What, now?”

Lister arched an eyebrow.  “Do you have anything better to do?  I mean, do you really want to die for the second time knowing that you still weren’t a very good kisser?”

Rimmer scowled, and Lister was just thinking that he’d misjudged the situation and Rimmer was actually going to hit him when the hologram’s lips met his for the third time.  

It was Lister who pushed Rimmer against the wall this time, trying to cram as much sensation as possible into what would more than likely be his final few moments of life.  As the countdown clocks hit the last five seconds the kiss intensified, becoming wilder and more desperate.

Oh well, thought Lister as the timer hit zero and Rimmer did something with his tongue that made Lister feel weak at the knees.  I suppose there are worse ways to go.

[pinktintedmonocle]

Blue Is Not The Only Colour - A Red Dwarf FanFic - Epilogue - NFSW

Three million years into deep space, Rimmer discovers that it is in fact OK to allow himself to be happy.

Epilogue

The next morning they were woken at six by the excruciatingly loud sound of a cockerel heralding the dawn.

“Smeg!” Lister yelled and nearly rolled off the top bunk before Rimmer caught him.  “Thanks man”, he murmured as he wiped sleep out of his eyes.

“Well, I have only just got you.  It would be very annoying for you to promptly go and break all of your limbs.”  Rimmer turned his attention to the screen on the wall, yelling over the deafening alarm.  “Holly you goit!  What the smeg is going on?”

Holly’s face appeared on the monitor.  “Oh good, you’re both awake.”

“Yes Holly, of course we’re awake!” yelled Rimmer.  “That alarm is loud enough to wake a stone deaf octogenarian with a heavy cold who’s taken an extra strong dose of Night Nurse!”

“Oh right, yeah, the alarm”, said Holly, as if he’d completely forgotten it was still ringing. “Should I turn if off?”

“Yes!” Lister and Rimmer shouted in unison.

The room fell blessedly silent.  Lister groaned and passed a hand over his face. “What the smeg was that, Hol?”

“It was your six am wakeup call”, replied Holly, “you know the rooster is my favourite.”

“Six am!”  Lister exclaimed.  “You know I don’t get up until eleven at the very earliest. What’s the meaning of this?”

“Oh right; Kryten and the Cat have just detected a derelict ship in our orbit.  They want to go on board and investigate.  Anyway, did you two have a good night then?”  Holly wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“That’ll be all, Holly”, Rimmer said firmly.  

“Fine.”, replied the computer, “although if you ever need any advice of a sexual nature, I have the entirety of the Karma Sutra memorised.”  The screen went blank.

Lister groaned again before he sat up and shuffled to the end of the bed and began to climb down the ladder.  Rimmer followed suit, and while Lister rooted around on the floor for his underwear the hologram willed his own clothes into existence.

“Hey”, said Lister. Rimmer turned to face his lover and Lister frowned at Rimmer’s uniform. “Are you really going to stick with that blue?”

“It’s the colour I always wear”, said Rimmer, “what’s wrong with it?”

Lister shrugged as he pulled on his trousers.  “There’s nothing wrong with it.  It’s just that blue isn’t the only colour and that purple really suited you, you know.  It made you look even sexier than you already do.”

Rimmer flared his nostrils. “Uniforms aren’t supposed to look ‘sexy’, Listy.  They’re designed to be smart and practical.”  Nevertheless, he closed his eyes and tried to picture the shade that Lister had liked in the lift.  When he opened his eyes his uniform was a striking amethyst shade and Lister was ogling him appreciatively.

“Looking good, Arnie”, Lister said with a grin.

Rimmer tried to look disapproving, but then realised he didn’t have to anymore.  He smiled back.

Lister finished dressing and pulled on his jacket.  “Ready?” he asked.

Rimmer nodded. “Ready.”

As they walked out the door, Lister stopped in his tracks and turned back to face the hologram. “Oh, and Rimmer?”

Rimmer stopped sharply just in time to prevent himself colliding with Lister. “Yes?”

Lister’s face broke into another grin.  “Love you.”

“Love you too”, Rimmer replied softly.

Lister leant in for a brief kiss before whooping and tearing off down the corridor.

Rimmer followed with a spring in his step.  For once in his life he had something to look forward to and he was determined to enjoy every second of it, whatever colour uniform he had to wear.

[pinktintedmonocle]

Blue Is Not The Only Colour - A Red Dwarf FanFic - Chapter 1 - NSFW

Red Dwarf is under attack.   All systems are down with no hope of recovery.  The crew is doomed.  And all Lister can think about is Rimmer’s new purple uniform. Fluffy smut for all your Rimster needs!  Set after The Promised Land – spoilers for that episode.

Inspired by one of my favourite fanfics that I’ve recently rediscovered after many years – Catcall by Kahvi and Roadstergal.  There’s a bit in that fic where Rimmer briefly changes his uniform purple and Lister really likes it, and it got me thinking…

Chapter 1: The Lift

“Status report!” screamed Rimmer, bracing himself against the side of the lift as the ship lurched violently to one side.  

Kryten’s face appeared on the screen in the corner of the lift.  “All principal and auxiliary systems are down, sirs, and all doors have been sealed shut.  Mister Cat and I are doing everything we can to reboot the engines but the GELF ship hit us pretty hard.”

Lister attempted to stand up just as the ship started to shake again.  He wisely decided to stay on the floor of the lift.  “When you say you and Cat are doing everything you can, do you actually mean that you are doing everything you can while Cat is preening in front of a mirror?”

“Oh no Mister Lister, Mister Cat is not currently staring at himself in a looking glass.”

“Really?” asked Lister, incredulous.  “You mean he’s actually helping?”

There was a pause while Kryten glanced over his shoulder.  “Well, not exactly.  At the present moment he is making a rather fetching pair of earmuffs out of one of those fur rugs we extracted from that luxury liner we raided last month.  And while that may not seem particularly helpful at present if we do crash it will likely be onto that ice planet directly below us, so at least Mister Cat will have something to keep his ears nice and toasty.”

Rimmer threw up his arms in frustration.  “Oh, well, that’s just marvellous, isn’t it?  The rest of us will perish in sub-zero temperatures, but at least if another crew ever stumbles across our frozen remains they’ll find a pair of perfectly persevered ears to take away as a memento.”

“Hey Rimmer man, just try and calm down OK?” said Lister.  “We’ll get out of this, just like we always do.  Isn’t that right Kryts?”

It wasn’t technically possible for Kryten’s face to turn the sickly green pallor that a human face often does in times of extreme peril, but as Lister and Rimmer watched the mechanoid they both thought that he seemed to be giving it a jolly good try.

“Well, actually sirs, I’m not entirely sure that we will be able to get out of this particularly sticky situation.  In fact, I calculate that our chances of survival are roughly the same as the chances of the UK entry coming in first place in the Eurovision song contest.”

Lister slumped forward and buried his face in his hands.  “So we’re totally and utterly smegged, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes sir, I’m afraid so.   With no systems online we have no way of –”.  Kryten’s image shuddered and disappeared on the screen.

“What’s happened? Where’s he gone?”  Rimmer demanded hysterically.

Lister just groaned. “We must have lost contact with the science room.  The missiles have probably fried the internal communication systems.”

Rimmer turned on Lister, nostrils flared to full capacity.  “It’s your fault we’re stuck in here, you know.  As soon as we got the attack alert I was prepared to take the stairs. It was you who said it would be quicker to get to the science room if we took the lift.”

“Well it worked last time on the Iron Star, didn’t it?” protested Lister.

“Barely!  It was a miracle we got out of there.”  Rimmer surveyed his surroundings, nose wrinkled in distaste.  “You could have chosen one of the Xpress lifts rather than a bog standard service lift. At least then we’d have somewhere comfy to sit while the GELF fry my light bee and turn you into kebab meat.”

The screen flickered back to life and Holly’s gormless face appeared.  “Hey dudes.  What’s happening?”

The ship rocked dangerously and Rimmer was thrown off his feet, landing on his arse next to Lister. “What’s up?” he screeched.  He managed to pull himself up into a sitting position and clung to Lister’s leg to stop himself from toppling over again. “You mean apart from being minutes away from certain death?”

“Oh yeah, I know about that” Holly replied calmly, looking somewhat bored.  “I meant, like, apart from that.”

Rimmer tried and failed to look commanding from his position on the floor.  He settled on just glaring at the computer screen.  “Hang on; if all the systems are down why are you still running?”

Holly shrugged, which was impressive for a being without any shoulders.  “Don’t know.  Think I’ve just got lucky and the GELF missed my hard drive when they attacked.”

“Is there anything you can do to help us Hol?” Lister cried desperately.  The lift was swaying back and forth continuously now and Lister was starting to feel very dizzy.  He gripped Rimmer’s arm for some support.

“Oh, not really” said Holly. “I could play some chill out music though if you wanted.  Or whale song; that is supposed to be very relaxing.”

“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Rimmer.  “Holly, can you access the Hologram Simulation Suite and change me from hard to soft light?  That way I can get out of this smegging lift!”

“Hang on!” said Lister. “You can’t just leave me here to die by myself!”

Rimmer rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic Listy, I’d come back for you.  But if I switch between hard and soft light I can go inside the systems that have been hit and see how bad the damage is.  Then if it’s fixable, I’ll report to Kryten and see if he can do some sort of system repair from the science room.”

Lister had to admit that as plans went, it wasn’t too shabby.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually” agreed Holly.

“Well, get on with it then you senile floppy disk!” snapped Rimmer.

“Oh no, I can’t actually do it”, Holly clarified in his usual monotone.  “The controls to do that were damaged by the missile.  I was just saying that it was a good plan, you know, like theoretically.”

“Brilliant!” wailed Rimmer, throwing his hands up in the air before quickly grabbing back onto Lister’s leg as the lift shuddered.  “I’m going to die on this smegging ship a second time, cowering in an elevator with a grotty spacebum who thinks cornflakes covered in grated onion and vindaloo sauce is a healthy and balanced breakfast.”

“Hey man, don’t take this out on me!” protested Lister.  “It’s not my fault those crazy GELF goits decided to bomb us again!”

In fact, Lister thought a little guiltily, it probably was partly his fault.  The GELF had never forgiven him for abandoning Hackhackhack Ach Hachhachac on their wedding night.  He fully expected Rimmer to point this out and continue his snarking, but instead the hologram deflated visibly and let out a long sigh.

“This is it then Listy, after all these years.  I’ll be dead and gone, rather than just dead. We both will.”

Rimmer leaned in a little closer to Lister, and Lister’s brain registered for the first time that Rimmer’s arms were wrapped around one of his legs, while he was clutching one of Rimmer’s arms with both hands.  The soft thrum of electricity emanating from Rimmer’s light bee was oddly calming, and holding onto Rimmer’s hologrammatic body made his hands tingle pleasantly.  He had just started to think about how well defined Rimmer’s arm felt beneath his grasp when Holly interrupted.

“I can change the colour of your uniform though, if that helps.”

“What?” Rimmer asked, bemused.

“Well, I can’t change you to soft light, but I can send a signal to your light bee to change the colour of your uniform from blue to red.”

“And how the smegging hell would that help?” snarled Rimmer.

“Well” said Holly with all the enthusiasm of a sixty year old Geography teacher on the verge of retirement who had just been told they had to teach fourteen year olds about sedimentary rocks for another five years before they could draw their pension, “When you’re soft light, your uniform is red.  So even though I can’t make you soft light so you can go and save the ship, I can make your uniform red so you can look like you’re soft light.  That way you can at least pretend to be soft light and helpful so you can feel a bit better about the whole situation, like, psychologically.”

Rimmer fixed the monitor displaying Holly’s face with a venomously seething glare of such intensity that it would cause any sane sentient computer to immediately start wiping its hard drive just to be rid of the memory of such a glare.  Holly however, being about as sane as an MP for UKIP, just smiled pleasantly back.

“See?” said the computer. Rimmer’s uniform shimmered from blue to red.  A tiny jolt of electricity went through Lister as the change took place.  It was actually quite pleasant and just slightly arousing, which, combined with Lister’s grip on Rimmer’s nicely muscled arm and the fact that the hologram’s hands seemed to be making their way slowly up Lister’s leg as Rimmer clung on for support, caused the beginnings of a stirring in Lister’s groinal region that made him very thankful that he was wearing his baggiest trousers.

“And it’s not just red I can do”, continued Holly, completely oblivious to the reactions of the occupants of the lift.  “I can turn your uniform any colour you want actually.”

Rimmer’s uniform started to shimmer it’s way though the rainbow and every shade in between, from reds to oranges to yellows to greens to blues to purples-

“Stop!” yelled Lister, startling Rimmer.  “Stop on that purple, Hol.”

“Alright”, said Holly. The flickering stopped and Rimmer’s uniform settled on a deep amethyst shade.  “It’s a nice colour that.  Good choice.”

“Yeah, it is.” agreed Lister, somewhat breathlessly.  In that moment Lister thought it was probably the most alluring colour he had ever seen, and given the Cat’s penchant for beautiful fabrics he’d pretty much seen every other colour under the sun.  But there was just something special about this colour; it complemented Rimmer’s pale complexion perfectly and brought out his soft brown eyes.  That and the fact that Lister had received several dozen tiny electric shocks every time Rimmer’s uniform had changed colour meant that he was now as hard as a rock.

Rimmer stared at Lister as if he had a polymorph stuck to his face.  “Have you gone completely loopy?  Has space rot finally taken hold of your brain after one too many beer milkshakes?  We’re on the verge of certain death and all you can think about is the hue of my clothes? I expect this kind of behaviour from that imbecile”, Rimmer jerked his head in the direction of Holly, “but I wasn’t expecting you to go completely senile for at least another five years or so.”

Lister shifted in a way designed to bring Rimmer’s hand slightly further up his thigh.  “Can’t I pay you a compliment before we die?” he asked huskily.

The lift shook again and Rimmer grabbed Lister’s other leg to stop himself from being thrown against a wall.  Lister felt quite faint; he honestly didn’t know how much more contact he could stand with the hologram before he either passed out or came in his pants.  Or both.

Rimmer frowned. “You’ve never paid me a compliment like that before.”

“I must have done,” said Lister, barely holding on to consciousness.

“You definitely haven’t. I would have remembered.” sniped Rimmer.

“Well, I’m paying you one now.”  The lift shook again and although Lister wasn’t unbalanced by this particular shudder he still took the opportunity to grab hold of Rimmer’s other arm. They were properly holding each other now and Lister couldn’t help but be aware of how close their lips were. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “I’m just saying that that colour really suits you.  It really, really suits you.  Although maybe not quite as well as the diamond light suit.”

“Oh?” asked Rimmer, who had been distracted from thoughts of impending death by the incredibly rare occurrence of someone saying something nice about him.  “And what was better about the diamond light suit?”

The whacking great codpiece thought Lister, although he didn’t say it out loud.  “It looked good, is all.”  And you looked good in it.  So, so good.  “Hey Hol, give us a moment will you?”

“Ok”, replied the computer. He paused for a second. “There.  That was a moment.”

Lister rolled his eyes. “I meant give me and Rimmer a moment alone Hol.  In other words, smeg off!”

“Oh right”, said Holly, sounding a little offended.  “You could have just said.  You didn’t have to be so rude about it.”  The screen went black.

“You’ve annoyed him now.” stated Rimmer.  “He’ll probably wake you up tomorrow at six with those cockerel sounds he loves so much.”

“There won’t be a tomorrow”, Lister said distractedly, thinking about the word ‘cockerel’.  In particular the first syllable.

“Oh God, I almost forgot!” Rimmer exclaimed.  “I’m going as mad as you.  Must be my memory files shutting down.  I’ll probably be nothing but a drooling mess in a few minutes!”

Lister could tell that Rimmer was on the verge of a full blown panic attack, so he removed his hands from the hologram’s arms (somewhat reluctantly) and grabbed his face instead. The lift gave another shake and somewhere in the distance several alarms started to sound.  It was amazing that the cables holding them in the lift shaft hadn’t snapped yet and sent them plummeting to their deaths.  Lister tried not to think about that.  Or the word ‘shaft’.

“Rimmer”, he said softly, letting his thumb gently rub circles on the hologram’s cheek.  “I know we’ve had our disagreements over the years-”

“We have disagreements every day, Listy”, Rimmer said, although he didn’t try to move away from Lister.  “Most days we’ve had at least seven before you’ve even had your mid-morning curry.”

“Yeah, I know man”, said Lister.  The lift was shaking uncontrollably now.  Lister titled his head forward slightly, his lips only an inch away from Rimmer’s. “But there’s a reason I like to wind you up so much.  There’s a reason I tease you until you get all flustered and your cheeks turn red and you stomp off and I watch your lovely arse as you walk away.”

Rimmer blinked.  “I’m sorry, did you just refer to my arse as ‘lovely’?”

“Yeah, Rimmer, I did. Because there’s something I need to tell ya, something I should have told you a long time ago but I was just too much of a coward.  Because the thing is Rimmer, I lov-”

All of a sudden the lift stopped shaking, the distant alarms grew quiet and the lights in the lift turned back to full brightness.  The screen flickered back to life and Holly’s face re-appeared.  “Is this a good time, or are you two still having your moment?”

Rimmer pulled away from Lister’s embrace and stood up, leaving Lister’s arms feeling horribly empty.

“What the smeg is going on Holly?” Rimmer demanded.  “Why aren’t we dead yet?  What about the GELF missiles?”

“What missiles?” asked Holly, looking puzzled.

“The missiles that hit the ship and were in the process of killing us, you goit!” Rimmer shrieked. Lister couldn’t help think that he looked very sexy when he got all worked up.

“Oh right”, said Holly. “See, the thing is that there weren’t actually any missiles in the first place.  Or any GELF ship.”

Holly’s words hit Lister like a ton of bricks and snapped him out of his lustful reverie.  He scrambled to his feet to stand beside Rimmer. “Hang on a minute, Hol!  What the smeg do you mean there weren’t any missiles or a ship?”

“It’s probably best I let the others explain”, said Holly.

The screen flickered and Kryten’s face appeared on it, looking guiltier than OJ Simpson.  “Oh Mr Lister sir!” exclaimed the mechanoid. “It’s so good to see you again. When we lost contact I was terrified you might have been knocked unconscious, what with the ship shaking so violently and things flying everywhere.”

“I’m fine, Kryts.  But what did Holly mean when he said there were no missiles or no attacking ship?”

“Hang on!” interrupted Rimmer.  “Why did you only ask Lister if he was OK?  What about me?  Why does no-one care about me?”

I care, thought Lister.  His cock, still half hard, gave a twitch of agreement.  In fact, one part of me seems to care about you very much.

Kryten pretended not to hear the hologram.  “Well, you see, Mister Lister sir, what we thought was an attack from a GELF ship turned out not to be a real attack at all but in fact just a very realistic simulation.  It seems that when Red Dwarf was being built it was fitted with newly designed emergency protocol simulation software.  The idea was that once every few months the immersive simulation would be activated so the crew could practice what to do in case of a GELF attack, like the fire drills I believe they used to have back on Earth.”

“Hang on”, said Rimmer. “I’ve never even heard of an immersive emergency drill before, let alone done one aboard Red Dwarf.  When we did a practice drill there just used to be a little alarm that sounded and we all pretended an attack was taking place and lined up in a corridor so a man with a clipboard could tick our names off on a register.”

“That’s because the idea was scrapped before Red Dwarf ever launched”, Kryten continued.  “There was another ship built to the same specifications that took off just before Red Dwarf, but tragically all crew members were killed during the first week of their voyage.  You see, they were so busy doing the simulated attack that they failed to realise that they were actually under attack and the ship was blown up. So the function was never used on Red Dwarf, although the controls to activate it remained.”

“So how the smegging hell did it get activated after three million years?” asked Lister.

Kryten shifted uncomfortably.  “Well, I believe Mister Cat may have been responsible for that, sirs.  You see, the button to activate the simulation is very large and red and shiny, and I believe he just couldn’t resist pressing it.”

The Cat’s face appeared next to Kryten’s on the monitor.  “Actually, I was trying to prise it off the wall to use as a brooch. Pressing it was just an accident.”

“So all that panic and stress we just went through was so the Cat could get a twinkly new accessory?” Rimmer threw up his hands in disbelief. “I nearly had a heart attack just so that feline imbecile could deck himself out like Liberace?”

“Well, sir, as you don’t actually have a heart you aren’t technically capable of having a heart attack –”

“Shut up Kryten!” Rimmer snapped.  “No one cares about your technicalities!  Holly, can you please just open the door to this damn lift.”

Holly’s face reappeared on the screen.  “Can do, Arnold.”  The doors of the lift slid smoothly open and Rimmer stalked out.

“I’ll be putting you all on report for this!”  Rimmer said as he started to walk down the corridor.  “There’s going to be so much paperwork to fill out.  It’s going to be marvellous.”

Lister watched the hologram’s retreating figure with mixed emotions.  It would be so easy just to let him go, to go back to their usual routine of sniping and gripping and repressed feelings.  But did he really want that?

“Hey Rimmer”, he called out. The hologram stopped in his tracks and turned back to face Lister.  

“What?” Rimmer said. Lister hesitated, trying to find the right words.  Rimmer tapped a foot impatiently.  “Well, spit it out.  I haven’t got all day.  Those forms aren’t going to fill themselves out.”

“Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?” Lister blurted out.

Rimmer blinked. “What?”

Lister took a deep breath. “Dinner.  With me. Tonight.  Seven-thirty.  Parrots on G deck.”

“But I don’t eat, Lister, what with being dead for the last three million years.  Or had you forgotten?”

“We can get Holly to programme some hologrammatic food for you.  Something dead fancy, like lobster or something.  I’ll avoid soup though, promise, hot or cold.”

Rimmer’s face creased in confusion.  “But why go to all the bother of creating fake food for a dinner that I don’t even need to eat?  Why would you-”

“It’s not about the smegging food Rimmer!” Lister cried, throwing up his arms in frustration.

“Then what is it about?” asked Rimmer, looking utterly perplexed.

“The fact that I’m smegging in love with you!” screamed Lister.

The silence that followed Lister’s statement was so absolute you could have heard a skutter drop a pin.

Rimmer went very still. “What did you just say?” he asked slowly.

Lister sighed.  There was no going back now.  In for a penny, in for a pound as his Gran used to say. “That I love you, you smeghead, alright? I have done for a while now, but I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to tell you.  But when we thought we were gonna die back there in the lift I realised that there is never going to be a right moment.  So I’m telling you now; I, David Lister, am in love with you, Arnold Judas Rimmer.  And I think that you might feel the same way about me.  And it’s time we talked about that.”

Rimmer opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out.  He opened and closed it for several seconds as if doing an impression of a guppy before he just let it hang open and stared at Lister in shock.

“So seven-thirty, yeah?” asked Lister.  “Then we’ll talk about it?”

Rimmer regained enough motor function to nod mutely.

Lister wasn’t sure if the nod was an acknowledgment of Rimmer’s feelings for him or simply an indication that he would see Lister at seven-thirty.  Hopefully it was both.  Lister smiled.  “Ok, see you then.”  As he walked away, he had a thought and called back over his shoulder.  “Oh, and wear that purple uniform.  It’s very sexy.  And maybe see if you can add a codpiece to it.”

As Lister turned a corner he heard Rimmer make some sort of high pitched choking sound.  As he sauntered away, grinning from ear to ear, he wondered if that was the kind of noise Rimmer might also make in bed. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before he found out.

[pinktintedmonocle]

Blue Is Not The Only Colour - A Red Dwarf FanFic - Chapter 3 - NFSW

Lister and Rimmer finally get down to business but the sex is somewhat hampered by the presence of Holly and the size of their bed.

Chapter 3: The Bunk

Lister strode purposely down the corridor, breathing deeply.  His heart was beating so fast that it felt as if it was attempting to escape from his body with all the desperation of a Tory MP trying to get away from a member of the working class.

When he got to the entrance to their quarters he took a final deep lungful of air.  He could do this, he could fix his relationship with Rimmer.  He had to fix it; the alternative of spending the rest of his life in a kind of cold war with the hologram, sharing nothing more than the occasional venomous look, was too painful to even think about.

Lister pressed the button on the wall and the doors slid open.  He took a few tentative steps into the room and paused by the table.  Rimmer was curled up in his bunk, his front facing the wall.

“Hey Rimmer”, he said softly.  “Are you asleep?”

“Yes.” Rimmer replied croakily.

Lister sighed.  “Come on, man, I just want to talk to you.”

The hologram huffed and turned over but pointedly avoided making eye contact with Lister.  “What do you want to talk about?”

“About us, Rimmer.  We need to talk about us.”

Rimmer snuffled and pulled the duvet cover up tighter around his chin.  “I don’t know what we’ve got left to talk about.  You’ve had your bit of fun at my expense.”

Lister frowned in confusion. “Fun at your – Rimmer, what are you on about?”

“Your big joke, Listy!” Rimmer spat back.  “I must say, it was a whopper!  Definitely a step up from your usual favourite gag of leaving one of your socks between the pages of Napoleon’s diaries so every time I pick it up for a spot of bedtime reading it flops onto my face like a tiny stink bomb.”

Lister just stared at the hologram.  “Rimmer, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rimmer swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up and strode over to the console by the door. He started pushing random buttons, eyes glued to the screen.  “Of course you do!  It’s the jape of the century.  Holly would be proud!  Convince poor sad Rimmer that you might actually return his pathetic feelings and ask him out on a date, only to feed him disgustingly flavoured food and then insult him until his leaves.  Hilarious! I’m surprised you’re not still crying with laughter about it!  I bet you had a good chuckle with Kryten and the Cat after I left.  I bet you were all slapping your thighs and howling with mirth.”

Lister’s mouth fell open in shock and it was a few seconds before he found he could speak again. “Oh Rimmer, you don’t really think it was all just a joke do you?”

Rimmer continued to pretend to work on the console.  “Of course! And how hysterical it was!  Side splitting, pant wetting levels of hilarity! Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some work to do.”

“Rimmer, it wasn’t a joke!” exclaimed Lister.  “Do you really think I’d be that cruel, that heartless?”

Rimmer whirled around to face Lister, his features contorted in an ugly snarl.  “Why not?  I mean, you don’t actually like me do you?  Nobody really likes me.  Nobody ever has and nobody ever will so I would appreciate it if you could just stop pretending and sod off.”

“I’m not pretending!” Lister yelled.  “I love you Rimmer, I really do!  I feel the same about you as you feel about me, and I’m sorry our date was such a smegging disaster but I really think we can work this out if we just talk about it!”

Rimmer scoffed and crossed his arms defensively.  “I was on to you from the very start of this gag and I only turned up for that joke of a date to see how far you’d actually take it.  I don’t have any feelings for you Listy.  I don’t know where you got that idea from but I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken miladdo!”

“I got it from you, Rimmer, just a minute ago!” countered Lister.  “You said that you thought I was trying to make you think I returned your pathetic feelings.  Except that they’re not pathetic and I do return them Rimmer!”

“Stop it!” screamed Rimmer, and Lister noticed that his bottom lip had started to tremble and his eyes had filled with tears.  “Stop giving me false hope!  Do you have any idea how painful this is for me, having you tell me that you love me and calling me your moon and holding my face like you did in the lift and asking me on pretend dates?  I can’t do this anymore Listy.  I know I’m already dead but it’s killing me, this constant cycle of making me feel wanted and then treating me like something you just scraped off the bottom of your boot after clomping around the diesel decks.  I can’t do it anymore, I can’t do it, I can’t-”

Rimmer’s rant was cut short by the sudden presence of Lister’s lips on his own.  Lister brought up a hand to gently cup the hologram’s face while he rested the other on Rimmer’s waist.  For several seconds Rimmer seemed to be frozen, his mouth not responding at all to the kiss.  Lister was just about to pull away when an arm snaked around his back and pulled his closer.  Rimmer’s lips parted to allow Lister’s tongue entrance to his mouth and they stumbled back, Lister’s arse colliding with the table.  Lister’s groan of pain quickly turned to pleasure as Rimmer deepened the kiss. The hologram spun Lister around and pressed him down into the lower bunk.  Lister could feel the beginning of Rimmer’s erection pressing into his thigh and the sensation made Lister’s own cock start to harden.

The kiss was desperate and messy and perfect; it was everything Lister had imagined it would be and more.  He hadn’t felt this happy since the day in the orphanage when he’d been told there was a family who wanted to adopt him.  He felt lightheaded and dizzy with what he initially thought was joy, but as his lungs started to ache he realised that it was more likely oxygen deprivation. He broke the kiss reluctantly, gasping for air.  He opened his eyes to find Rimmer staring at him in awed silence.  After a few deep breaths Lister’s face cracked into a wide grin. “Now do you believe me, Rimmer?”

Lister half expected the hologram to start shouting at him again, but instead Rimmer just nodded mutely before clearing his throat.  “Yes, well, I must say the evidence you have provided is quite convincing.  But are you sure?  Don’t you want to get to know each other a bit more before we take this any further?”

Lister rolled his eyes. “Rimmer, we’ve been getting to know each other for thirty years!  So just shut up and kiss me again, alright?”

“Alright” agreed Rimmer, and their lips glued themselves back together.  

As the kiss became more heated, Lister’s hands started to wander around Rimmer’s body.  He’d thought the hard light body felt good in the lift, but now that Rimmer was actually on top of him and they were touching all over, Rimmer’s body felt amazing. It was smooth and cool and that lovely low grade thrum of electrical current seemed to pulse in tandem with the beat of Lister’s heart.  As he trailed a hand down Rimmer’s slim waist he began to think about what Rimmer would look like naked.  He hadn’t seen his Rimmer nude since the psi-moon and that had been years before. Presumably the software that caused Rimmer’s face to age also affected the rest of him, and Lister found himself wondering exactly how Rimmer’s body would have changed.  As he contemplated this Lister allowed one of his hands to crawl slowly up Rimmer’s left thigh.  When he reached Rimmer’s groin he gently cupped his erection.  The hologram let out a small yelp and broke their kiss.

“You OK, Rimmer?” Lister asked.

“Yes, I’m fine – I - I just – look, can we just stop for a moment?” Rimmer stuttered.

After finally getting the object of his affection into bed after so many years the last thing Lister wanted to do was stop, but there was a look in Rimmer’s eyes that told him something was not quite right.  “Of course man”, he said.  

Rimmer rolled off Lister onto his side and propped his head up on one hand.  Lister followed suit and they lay nose to nose on the narrow bed.

“Look” said Rimmer, seeming more uncomfortable than a politician who had been tasked with having to read out a particularly large number on TV.  “It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you.  It’s just that I’m not entirely sure … how”.

Lister frowned.  “What do you mean?  Look, I know you haven’t had many partners but you have had sex before Rimmer.”

“Yes, but never with a man!” exclaimed Rimmer.  He looked down, clearly embarrassed.  “I don’t really know where to start.”

“Ok”, Lister replied slowly, trying to think of a way to put Rimmer at ease.  “How about you just think about how you like to be touched and then touch me like that?”

Rimmer took a deep breath. He mirrored Lister’s earlier move and rested his hand on Lister’s crotch.  Lister hummed his approval and Rimmer stroked Lister’s erection, softly at first and then a little firmer.  Lister gasped in pleasure and captured Rimmer’s lips in a deep kiss. As they kissed Lister put his own hand back on Rimmer’s crotch and lightly squeezed the hologram’s balls through his trousers.

“I think it’s time we took our clothes off.” Lister breathed.

“God yes.” Rimmer moaned. He scrunched his nose up in concentration and a split second later his uniform was gone.

“Smegging hell!” Lister exclaimed and let out a low whistle of approval.  Rimmer’s body was much as he remembered it; lean and muscular, toned to perfection after years of early morning star jumps and nervous pacing. There was a smattering of brown and grey hairs on his chest, a colour palette that was reflected in his pubic hair. Lister’s eyes widened as he stared at Rimmer’s cock.  Blimey, he thought, no wonder Ace got around so much.  

Rimmer cleared his throat. “Are you just going to gawk at me all night or are you going to remove your own clothes as well?”

Rimmer’s words snapped Lister out of his reverie.  He began to wiggle out of his own garments, a task made awkward by how close together they were in the narrow bunk.

“Give us a hand, would you?” Lister asked, his fingers fumbling as he tried to unbutton his shirt. “It’s not as easy for me as it is for you; I can’t just twitch my nose or snap my heels together and be instantly nude.”

“Right”, said Rimmer. He surveyed Lister’s body with the intensity of a general planning a complex battle strategy.  “You take the bottom half.  I’ll take the top.”

Lister nodded and shuffled out of his trousers while Rimmer made quick work of his shirt.  Soon he was down to just his pants, which he pulled off with a final flourish.  Rimmer leaned back in the bunk slightly and stared at Lister’s body.

For the first time since he’d kissed Rimmer Lister felt nervous.  He was aware that a diet of curry and beer combined with little exercise meant that he wasn’t exactly in great shape, or even in fairly OK shape.  In fact, the only shape he resembled these days was probably a circle.  As Rimmer continued to scrutinise him Lister braced himself for a crude remark so was surprised when Rimmer instead just said “You look amazing.”

Lister glanced down to check it was definitely his body that Rimmer was looking at.  “Really?” he asked.  “I mean, I’m flattered man, but your body is seriously incredible and mine is just, well-” he glanced down at his stomach and felt his cheeks redden. “A bit soft.”

Rimmer reached out and trailed a slender finger down Lister’s side, a sensation that made Lister shiver in anticipation.  “You’ve always been a bit soft.”

“Well, yeah”, Lister agreed with a grimace, “but I’m even softer than that these days.”

“I like it”, Rimmer replied. His hand skimmed down Lister’s hip and came to rest next to Lister’s cock.  “You’re gorgeous.  Just like I imagined you would be.”

“Come here, man”, Lister said breathlessly and captured Rimmer’s lips in his again before clambering on top of the hologram.  He started to grind against Rimmer, their cocks rubbing against each other.  

Rimmer let out a strangled gasp of pleasure and brought his hands up around Lister’s back to hold him closer but then quickly pulled back.  “Hang on; do we need to use protection?”

“Protection against what?” asked Lister.  “Look, I know I’ve gotten pregnant before but I think it’s pretty unlikely you’re going to get me up the duff.  A, you’re a man and B, you’re made entirely of light.  What would the baby be, a 40 watt bulb?”

“I didn’t mean pregnancy, Listy.  Look, I’ve never had sex with a human as a hologram.  I don’t know if it’s safe!  What if I ejaculate lightning and accidently fry you to a crisp?”

Lister looked down at Rimmer’s penis in alarm.  “Do you normally cum lightning?”

“Well, no” admitted Rimmer. “But you never know!  Perhaps we should use a condom.”

“Why?  If a seventy foot oak tree can be split in half by a single bolt of lightning then I don’t think a latex sheath has got much of a chance.” Lister deadpanned.  “Look, it’s fine!  Kochanski and her Lister had loads of sex and he was a hologram.  So it’s safe, alright?”

There was a polite cough from the corner of the room and both men turned their heads sharply to see Holly’s disembodied head floating on the screen.  “He’s right, you know.  It’s completely safe for a hologram and human to have unprotected sex.  No diseases can pass between them and when a hologram ejaculates nothing actually comes out.  It’s a bit like a radio play; it’s like being in the theatre but there’s bugger all to see.”

“Holly!” cried Lister. He rolled off Rimmer and clamped both of his hands to his nipples.  He realised, belatedly, that this meant his cock was still on full display.  Rimmer, apparently sensing his discomfort, used one of his own hands to cover Lister’s penis before using his other to cover one of his own nipples.  As a result they ended up in an even more compromising position than before. Lister quickly pulled the duvet cover over both of them.  “What the smeg do you think you’re doing?”

The computer seemed completely unfazed.  “Delivering important information to a crew member in order to validate a statement they’ve made.  Why, what are you two doing?  If it’s strip poker then I think both of you have lost.”

“Smeg off Holly!” Rimmer yelled, while Lister reached over the side of the bed and picked up one of his boots which he lobbed at the screen.  Holly ducked to the side as the boot hit the centre of the monitor, then turned to frown at the two occupants of the bed.  “Oi!  No need to get violent!  If you want me to leave you only have to ask politely.”

“Please leave, Holly” Lister asked through gritted teeth.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” said Holly.  The monitor went black and Lister let out a long breath and flopped down, burying his face in the pillow.

“Gimboid!” Rimmer screeched at the screen.  “I’ll cut your floppy disk up into tiny pieces, cook them in tomato sauce and feed them to the skutters on Italian cuisine night!”

“Rimmer man, calm down! He’s gone now” said Lister.

Rimmer rolled onto his back and glared up at the underside of Lister’s bed.  After a few moments his anger abated and he puffed out his cheeks in frustration.

Lister threw the duvet off and ran a hand down Rimmer’s chest.  “Why don’t we just pick up where we left off?”

Rimmer grimaced and looked down at his softening cock.  “I’m afraid that goit has killed my arousal.”

“No worries”, said Lister, a wicked gleam in his eye.  “I know just how to fix that.”  Before Rimmer could say another word, Lister ducked his head down to the hologram’s groin and swallowed his penis whole.

Rimmer’s cock tasted like nothing Lister had ever experienced before.  It was a little like licking a battery, but without the sudden electric shock; instead the electricity felt warm and pleasant and ticked Lister’s tongue in a way that made his own erection, also a little deflated from Holly’s interruption, regain its hardness.  Lister dragged his tongue slowly up the shaft to the head before teasing the slit.

Beneath him, Rimmer whimpered as his hips bucked.  Lister grinned around Rimmer’s erection and cupped the hologram’s balls, squeezing them gently.  After a few minutes, Lister pulled back with a wet ‘pop’ and looked up at Rimmer.  The hologram had his eyes closed and his face was a picture of ecstasy.

“Are you enjoying that Rimmer?” Lister asked cheekily.  “’Cause you know, I can always stop if you’re not really in the mood anymore.”

Rimmer swore under his breath.  “Oh God, that feels amazing.  Don’t you dare stop, you goit.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet”, said Lister before taking Rimmer’s cock back into his mouth.

Although Lister had generally favoured women before the accident that had left him stranded three million years into deep space, there had been a few cases where a good looking guy had turned his head.   One memorable man had introduced him to a particularly pleasurable move that had resulted in one of the most intense orgasms of Lister’s life, a technique that he now demonstrated on Rimmer.

Rimmer gave a strangled cry. “Oh God!  I don’t think I’m going to last much longer” he said breathlessly. A few more deep sucks from Lister later and Rimmer came, his whole body shaking.  Lister let go of Rimmer’s cock and pulled himself up the bed so they were lying face to face.

Rimmer stared at Lister with more love in his eyes than the Cat had when gazing at his favourite suits. Lister, already panting with arousal, felt the breath catch in his chest.

“Wow, Listy.  That was, that was…” Rimmer frowned, as if struggling to find the right words.  “…good” he finished lamely.

Lister laughed. “Thanks man.  It’s been a while so I’ll take ‘good’.  And you’re still here, you haven’t run off to re-arrange your wire collection or order a pizza, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“N-No!” Rimmer stuttered. “Look, I didn’t mean ‘good’ as in ‘fine’.  It’s just that I couldn’t find the right words!  Because it was better than good, Listy, it was great, it was-”

Lister clamped a hand over the hologram’s mouth.  “I know what you meant, Rimmer.  I was only teasing.  It was more than good for me too.”

Lister was half expecting a snarky comment when he removed his hand, but instead Rimmer just smiled widely and leaned in to kiss him again.  Smegging hell, he thought as Rimmer’s tongue tickled the back of his throat, if all it takes to mellow out Rimmer is a blow job we should have done this three million years ago.  Lister’s erection brushed against Rimmer’s thigh, and the hologram pulled back in surprise.

“Oh!  I almost forgot you haven’t…um, let me-” Rimmer tried to get on his knees and manoeuvre down the bunk to Lister’s crotch, but just ended up banging his head on the bottom of Lister’s bunk.

“Smeg!” yelped Rimmer, before he tried again and promptly kicked Lister in the knee.

“Ow!” Lister cried.  

“Right, sorry!” blustered Rimmer.  “Let me try again.”

This time one of Rimmer’s legs collided painfully with Lister’s left ankle.  Lister grabbed Rimmer before the hologram could hobble him further and pulled him back down so they were lying nose to nose again.

“Just use your hands Rimmer, OK?  We’ll try the other stuff next time when we’re in a bigger bed.”

“Alright”, Rimmer agreed a little petulantly, but he still took Lister in hand.  He fumbled a little at first, but soon got into a rhythm and worked Lister’s cock with cool, hard strokes.  

Lister lost himself in the sensation, enjoying the tingle of Rimmer’s fingers.  When he came he came hard, seaman splattering against his own stomach and Rimmer’s hands.

As Lister recovered, Rimmer eyed him nervously.  “Was that OK?”

“No Rimmer, it wasn’t OK.” Lister replied.  Just as Rimmer’s face crumpled Lister grinned so wide he thought his cheeks might split.  “It was fan-smegging-tastic.”  He buried his face in the hologram’s neck, laughing deliriously.

“You’re a goit, you know that?” grumbled Rimmer, voice a little muffled by Lister’s embrace.

Lister pulled back, still beaming.  “And you’re a smeghead, Rimmer.  But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

They kissed again, slowly and languidly.  When they separated, Rimmer’s nose wrinkled as he took in the sticky sheets.

“I think we may have to move.  You’ve soiled my bedspread.”

“Alright” agreed Lister. He got up reluctantly, swigging his legs over the side of the bed and hauling himself a little stiffly to his feet. “I’ll take a shower then we’ll sleep in my bunk tonight.”

Rimmer wrinkled his nose. “On second thoughts, I think I’d rather sleep in spunk than in day old puddles of vindaloo!”

“Hey!” Lister protested. “My bed is a curry free zone!”

Rimmer raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes!” Lister said defensively.  “Kryten changed the sheets this morning so the curry is all gone!”

Rimmer rolled his eyes. “You’re a disgusting slob of a human being, you know that Listy?”

“Yeah”, Lister agreed with another grin, “but you love me anyway.”

Rimmer sighed deeply. “Yes”, he said, “I do.”

**********************************************************************************

Later, as they lay spooning in Lister’s bunk, Rimmer ran a hand down Lister’s arm.  It seemed insane that he could just touch Lister whenever he wanted.  He still half expected Lister to turn around at any minute and reveal that it had all been a joke, then shout ‘Got you!” while Kryten and the Cat sprang out from a secret hiding place and pointed at him and laughed.  But with every moment that passed it seemed a little more real, a little more solid.

“Listy?” he said softy.

“Mmmm?”

“Earlier you said something about a bigger bed.  What did you mean?”

Lister yawned.  “Well, it doesn’t make sense does it, us sleeping separately now that we’re together?  And it seems pointless for us to share a bunk when the Captain’s quarters has an empty queen sized bed.”

“You want to move into a room where we share a bed?  Like, on a permanent basis?  Are you sure?”  Rimmer shifted uncomfortably.  “I just mean, I don’t want to rush into anything you might come to regret.”

Lister rolled over and cupped Rimmer’s cheek with his hand.  “Rimmer, I know you’ve had a smeggy time in the past with relationships, but I promise that I’m never going to leave you.  I love you, and I want to sleep in your arms every night and I’m not ever going to change my mind about that, OK?”

If Rimmer had a heart, it may have burst with happiness at Lister’s words.  Instead he just nodded, trying to fight back the happy tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

And that night, for the first time in his life, Arnold Judas Rimmer (Bsc, Ssc) fell asleep with a smile on his face and not a care in the world.

[pinktintedmonocle]

Blue Is Not The Only Colour - A Red Dwarf FanFic - Chapter 2 - NFSW

Lister and Rimmer’s date is a disaster.  Lister gets drunk and Rimmer wears sparky silver jazz shoes.  Holly’s taste files get mixed up, Kryten is anxious and the Cat just wants to know where his fish is.

Chapter 2: The Date

Dinner was a disaster on par with the Hindenburg.  Lister had had such high hopes for their date; he had donned his least garish Hawaiian shirt, the one Rimmer had once described as being ‘vaguely bearable if you squint while wearing heavily tinted glasses’, and slapped on a liberal amount of fancy cologne he’d found in the cargo hold.

He had practically skipped to G deck, taking the stairs rather than the lift just in case the Cat decided he needed another brooch and set off a second emergency drill.  He arrived before Rimmer and had preceded to down a tin of beer before starting on a second one.  Lister knew getting completely smegging shitfaced before your date arrived wasn’t generally considered good etiquette, but he felt more nervous than an anti-vaxxer during a pandemic and desperately needed something to take the edge off.

After he had polished off the second can and started on the third he glanced at his watch; seven thirty-six.  So Rimmer was a bit late.  It didn’t mean he wasn’t coming.  But even as he thought that Lister had a vision of himself alone in Parrots all night, getting progressively drunker until he passed out under the table while Rimmer hid from him somewhere else on the ship, instructing the skutters to repaint the walls yet another shade of indistinguishable grey or failing to learn Esperanto for the billionth time.

But just as despair was about to set in the bar doors slid open and Lister looked up from the table, his heart skipping a beat.  It sunk again when he saw it was just Kryten.  The mechanoid was wheeling in a trolley of curry topped with caviar; the perfect meal for what Lister hoped would be a great night.  Even if his date was over ten minutes late.

“Your meal as requested, sir”, Kryten said.  “And one of the bottles of Dom Pérignon we found on the luxury liner last month.”

Despite Kryten’s voice being as polite as ever, Lister thought he detected an underlying brittleness, which was confirmed when the mechanoid slammed Lister’s plate down so firmly that the whole table rattled and a large quantity of caviar rolled off onto the floor.

“Hey Kryten, careful with that!  What’s got your bolts in a twist?”

Kryten wrung his hands apologetically.  “I’m sorry, sir.  It’s just that I am somewhat perplexed and concerned by recent events.”

“Right”, said Lister. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair.  “I’m assuming the ‘recent events’ you’re referring to involve my decision to ask out Rimmer tonight?”

“I just can’t understand why you would do such a thing sir!  Of all the creatures on this ship you could ask on a date my circuits simply cannot comprehend why you would have chosen Mister Rimmer.  I could understand Mister Cat or maybe even a particularly attractive space weevil, but I cannot understand your attraction to an individual with all the charisma of a dead ferret.”

Lister shrugged.  “The heart wants what the heart wants, Kryts. I can’t help it any more than I can help that the sky is blue or that America once had a demented tangerine for a President.”

“But what about your plan, Mister Lister?” Kryten wailed.  “What about Miss Kochanski and the farm on Fiji?”

“Plans change, Kryten”, Lister explained. “Kochanski left for a reason and it’s time for me to accept that and move on.  And I can still have the farm on Fiji.  Not sure about Rimmer riding a horse down the beach, mind.  He’ll probably end up insulting it and be thrown off.  Maybe I can get one of those bikes with a sidecar he can sit in and we can drive down the beach together.”

Kryten still didn’t look convinced but nodded regardless.  “Whatever you want, sir.  Although I feel that it is my duty to point out that your new plan does depend somewhat on Mister Rimmer returning your affections and actually showing up for this date.”

“He’ll be here, alright!” Lister snapped.  He breathed deeply in and out and passed a hand over his face.  “Sorry Kryts.  I didn’t mean to yell.  I’m just a bit nervous is all.” He drained the remains of his third beer.  “Crack open another can for us, will ya?”

Kryten did so and Lister guzzled the lukewarm beer faster than a man who had resigned himself to dying of thirst before being handed an ice cold glass of the finest Alpine spring water ever found on earth.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “One more, Kryten.  Then you’d better make yourself scare.  Rimmer will be here in a minute.”

“Of course sir”, said Kryten and poured out Lister’s fifth beer before leaving the room.

Lister glanced at his watch; seven fifty-two.  It was fine, he reassured himself as he drank deeply.  Rimmer would definitely turn up soon.

**********************************************************************************

When Rimmer finally showed up at eight forty-seven, Lister was on his twelfth beer.  He’d heard the hologram marching down the corridor and had quickly stowed his empty cans under the table before the doors opened.  When Rimmer appeared Lister greeted him with a big grin. “Hey man, you made it!”

Rimmer just nodded stiffly and remained standing in the doorway, looking about as comfortable as a man who had just taken a vow of celibacy only to accidently find himself in a brothel that was offering a free taster night.  Lister found himself hoping that Rimmer would never take a vow of celibacy; that would smeg his plans right up.  But if Rimmer was the celibate man in this scenario, did that make him the stripper?  The thought made Lister giggle, beer dribbling over his lips.  There was a time when twelve beers would’ve only made Lister slightly tipsy, but that time had passed many years ago.  As a result, there was a possibility that Lister was more than a little drunk.

Rimmer looked up sharply. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No, man, no!”  Lister reassured him, hurriedly wiping his mouth with a napkin and tossing his head in a way that was meant to both look sexy and throw his dreads over his shoulder, but which actually just made him feel quite dizzy. “’Course I wasn’t.” He gripped the table for balance and squinted at Rimmer, trying to focus on the hologram.  The room seemed to be spinning somewhat.  Maybe another beer would help.  He cracked open another can and took a long pull before concentrating on his date again.  “You look, well, you look-” he had been going to say ‘gorgeous’, but before the word had left his lips his brain finally registered Rimmer’s outfit.  “Rimmer, what the smeg are you wearing?”

Rimmer’s posture seemed to grow even stiffer and his nostrils flared in indignation.  It wasn’t the purple outfit Lister had asked him to wear.  It seemed to be his white Admiral’s uniform with his usual array of long service medals, but instead of the white cap that normally completed the outfit Rimmer was wearing a black fedora at a jaunty angle.  Lister leaned sideways in his chair to get a look at Rimmer’s footwear, just about managing not to tip over completely.  Rimmer appeared to be wearing sparkly silver jazz shoes.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Rimmer countered.

Lister shrugged.  “I was just hoping you’d wear that purple uniform. It looked so good on you, man.”

Rimmer pursed his lips. “Yes, well, I thought this outfit might be a little more appropriate.”

“Appropriate for what?” Lister exclaimed, trying and failing not to slur his words. “A tap dancing version of An Officer and a Gentleman meets Bugsy Malone?”

Rimmer flared his nostrils even further.  “I’m sorry, I thought this was supposed to be a date rather than a fashion parade, but if it’s an individual dressed in haute couture that you’re after I can always go and see if the Cat is available to have dinner with you instead of me?”

“I’m sorry Rimmer”, Lister said sincerely.  “You look good.  I mean it. You always look good, whatever you wear. Now stop standing in the smegging doorway and come and sit down”.  Lister considered getting up to pull out Rimmer’s chair but wasn’t entirely sure in his current inebriated state that he would actually be able to stand.  He wisely remained seated and watched as Rimmer crossed the room and sat down opposite him.

They stared awkwardly at each other for several seconds before Rimmer cleared his throat and pointed at Lister’s plate.  “What is that?  It looks like something the Cat vomited up after that nasty case of space flu he caught a few years ago.”

“It’s me dinner!” Lister replied indignantly.  “Vindaloo and caviar, it’s dead fancy.  I’ve got Holly to programme some nice hologrammatic food for you too so we can eat together.” Lister turned to the screen mounted on one of the walls in the bar.  “Hey Hol, is Rimmer’s meal ready yet?”

Holly’s face appeared on the monitor.  “I’m just putting the finishing touches to it now.  Give me a few more minutes.”  The screen went blank.

Lister turned back to Rimmer and smiled softly.  “So, look at us on a proper date.  Wasn’t sure this day would ever come.”

Rimmer grimaced back. There was a moment of silence. “Do you want a cocktail?” blurted the hologram.

“Nah, I’m alright with my beer for now.” Lister replied, trying valiantly to stop himself from swaying from side to side.  “I might have a glass of Bolly later.”

There was an awkward pause. “You’re supposed to say ‘yes’.” Rimmer muttered.

Lister frowned in confusion. “What do you mean I’m supposed to say ‘yes’?  Hang on! Were you trying to use the worm-do line on me?”

Rimmer shifted uncomfortably.  “Well, yes, as it happens.”

“Rimmer, I didn’t ask you here so you could use your terrible chat up lines on me!  This is supposed to be a real proper date!”

“Well, I don’t know what to do, do I?” snapped Rimmer.  “I don’t exactly have a ton of experience in this kind of situation, unlike you.”

“Just relax man, OK?” said Lister.

Rimmer nodded, looking anything but relaxed.  After a moment he leaned forward and peered at Lister’s face.  “I think you’ve got something in your eye.”

Lister blinked.  “Do I?”

“Yeah, just there.” Rimmer poked a slender finger in the direction of Lister’s left eye.

Lister blinked a few more times.  “I can’t feel anything.”

“Oh, there is definitely something there”, Rimmer said firmly.  “Come a bit closer and I’ll have look.”

Lister leaned forward and for a moment he and Rimmer just gazed into each other’s eyes.  Lister thought it was quite romantic until Rimmer started murmuring something indistinguishable under his breath while waving his hands in circles.  

“Rimmer!  Are you trying to hypnotise me?”

“No!” Rimmer said defensively.  Lister raised an eyebrow and the hologram’s shoulders slumped.  “Alright, so what if I was?  It works, you know!”

Lister shook his head in disbelief.  “Rimmer, you don’t need to try and pull me using your stupid smegging hypnosis or chat-up lines. You’ve already got me, I’m already pulled.  You don’t need to trick me into liking you because I already do.  I want you just as you are, man.”

Rimmer looked utterly perplexed.  “But why? Why do you like me for me?  No one else ever has.”

“Because, Rimmer, I just … do.” said Lister, exasperated. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Rimmer opened his mouth to answer, but before he could form a response Holly reappeared on the screen. The computer scrunched his face up in concentration and a silver platter bearing a lobster dish materialised in front of Rimmer.  “There you go, Arn, give that a try.  I think I’ve managed to get the taste right.  I’ll leave you two to it.”  The monitor went blank.

Rimmer picked up his cutlery, cut a small portion of flesh and looked at it sceptically.

“Come on man”, said Lister, grateful for a change of topic.  “Just give it a go.”

Rimmer huffed but put the food into his mouth.  He chewed for a few moments before his face contorted in disgust and he spat out the hologrammatic morsel which promptly disappeared in a small fizzle of light. “Oh God, that’s foul!  I don’t know what that is but it’s certainly not lobster.  Unless it’s supposed to be a lobster that passed away some time ago and has been marinating in its own rotten juices on top of a radiator for the past fortnight.” Rimmer scraped at his tongue with his fingers as if trying to remove his taste buds.

“Holly!” Lister called. “What have you given Rimmer?”

Holly’s disembodied head rematerialized on the screen.  “It’s braised lobster, just like you asked for.  I programmed the taste files so it should taste like the real thing.  Let me double check.”  Holly paused for a moment and his eyes flickered from side to side as if reading something off screen.  “Hang on a minute; I think I may have got the files mixed up.  Those aren’t the files for lobster and lemon juice.”

“Then what are they?” Rimmer demanded. “What did I just taste?”

“Blancmange and baked bean.” Holly replied.  “Sorry about that Arnold, easy mistake to make.”

“Easy mistake!  How is that an easy mistake to make?  How are those two sets of tastes even remotely similar?” Rimmer ranted, face screwed up in rage.  He scraped at his tongue a few more times.  “Ugh!  I can’t get this taste out of my mouth!”

Lister couldn’t help but stare.  Rimmer’s tongue was long and agile and Lister was fascinated by it.  He found himself wondering what that tongue would feel like against his skin or inside his own mouth.  He sincerely hoped that the night would end with him finding out.  He tore his eyes away from the hologram and turned to address Holly.  “Hol, Rimmer needs something to get rid of the taste.”

A champagne glass materialised in front of Rimmer who picked it up and drank deeply before making a choking sound and spraying the contents across the table in a little burst of light. “Oh God, that’s even worse!”

“Hol!” Lister cried. “What did you give him this time?

“Bollinger champagne. Oh no.  Hang on.  I got the taste files mixed up again.  It was actually Bovril with a hint of cabbage soup.”

“Hol!” Lister repeated. He put his head in his hands. “This is supposed to be a romantic meal, not an episode of MasterChef!”

Holly frowned.  “I thought they served decent food on MasterChef?”

“Not on the version we used to get in Liverpool.” said Lister.  “One time this contestant dropped the steak they were cooking down the back of the oven so they just deep fried the packaging it came in and served that up instead.  The judges loved it; they got through to the final.”  Lister turned back to Rimmer.  “Sorry man, maybe it’s best we skip the food.”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘man’?”  Rimmer asked angrily.

“What?” said Lister, confused by the sudden change of subject.

“Man”, the hologram enunciated slowly.  “Why do you keep calling me ‘man’?”

“It’s just what I call people”, Lister explained, still confused.  “You know that, I’ve been calling you ‘man’ for the last thirty years.”

Rimmer scrunched up his nose.  “Yes, but it’s not very romantic, is it?  I bet if it was Kochanski here instead of me you wouldn’t refer to her as ‘woman’ all night. You’d call her some sickly sweet pet name like ‘baby doll’ or ‘sugar tits’.”

“No I wouldn’t!” protested Lister, “because that’s not how I talk to people!  That’s how you think you should talk to people you’re attracted to, which is bollocks because it’s just misogynistic smeg!”

“Well, it’s a bit more appropriate than ‘man’, isn’t it?” sniped the hologram.

“Fine!” Lister shouted. “How about Rimmer honey-buns? Rimmer sweet-cheeks?  My darling-warling Arnie-warnie?  Is that romantic enough for you?”

Rimmer banged a fist down on the table.  He pushed his chair back and stood up rigidly, glaring at Lister.  “Right, I’ve had just about enough of this.  This isn’t a date, this is just you getting pissed, having a curry and insulting me while I eat creamy beany crustacean and drink gravy flavoured bubbly.  I don’t even know why I agreed to this in the first place.  I must have taken temporary leave of my senses.”

“No, Rimmer, don’t go please!”  Lister rose quickly to his feet to try and stop the hologram from leaving, a move he instantly regretted when he fell over sideways and crumpled to the floor.

Rimmer pointed at him. “Look at you!  You’re as drunk as a skunk!”

“Only because you were over an hour late!” Lister protested.  “And then when you did finally decide to grace me with your presence you turned up dressed like an extra from a Village People music video and tried to hypnotise me!”

Rimmer sneered.  “Well at least I made some kind of effort. That shirt you’re wearing is more blinding than the neon signs they use outside the seediest strip joints on Mimas.  If I wasn’t already dead just having to stare at you wearing that thing for more than a few minutes would probably have burned out my retinas and killed me!  And you smell like a group of teenage boys who have just discovered deodorant for the first time and covered themselves with half a pint of Lynx.”  

“Fine then!” shouted Lister, attempting and failing to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position. “Just smeg off then if you find me so repulsive!”

“I do and I will!” Rimmer screamed back.  “Holly, open the doors!” The doors to the bar slid open and Rimmer stormed out.  

Lister turned to lie flat on his stomach and moaned into the floor.  “I really smegged that up.”

Holly nodded sagely. “Yep, you did Dave.”

**********************************************************************************

Rimmer fumed as he stalked down the corridor.  What had he been thinking?  He should never have agreed to go on a date with Lister. The very idea that he could enter a romantic relationship with the man who wrote the ‘Om’ song and trimmed his toenails with his own teeth was insane.

And yet… there had been that moment in the lift, when Lister had took his face in his hands and gazed into his eyes, that had made Rimmer think that his wildest dreams had finally come true, that the grotty space bum he had been secretly lusting over for several decades might actually return his feelings.  But that clearly wasn’t true, not after that disaster of a dinner.

He was so angry with himself that he didn’t even notice where his feet were taking him until he ended up back in his and Lister’s room.  He marched over to their bunk and threw himself into his bed, burying his face in the pillow.  As the anger ebbed away anguish filled the gap it left behind and soon Rimmer was sobbing hologrammatic tears.  

Even though his head had told him that it was all just one big joke the moment Lister had asked him out on a date, his heart had desperately wanted to believe that Lister was being sincere.  He’d ended up hiding in one of the service corridors with the skutters while Lister got ready for their date, too nervous to face the other man before dinner.  He’d spent the time doing his usual pre-date preparation of flicking anxiously through the pages of How To Pick Up Girls By Hypnosis and 1001 Fabulous Chat-up Lines in the vain hope that he might find some useful tips.  As soon as Lister had left for G deck he’d hurried into their room and stood before the mirror, trying to figure out what the smeg to wear.  Lister had asked him to wear that shade of purple that Holly had given him in the lift, but his own uniform, even in a new colour, just didn’t feel good enough for such a momentous occasion.

His mind had wandered to what Lister would be wearing.  Probably one of his terrible Hawaiian shirts.  But that was OK; in Rimmer’s eyes, Lister always looked gorgeous whatever he wore.  At least a shirt was easy to unbutton.  Rimmer had felt light headed at the thought that he might actually get to undress Lister at the end of the night, and he’d had to sit down before his legs gave way. The very thought of getting to touch that body he’d craved for so long was almost too much.  He had gotten hard just thinking about it and had been tempted to take himself in hand right then and there and have a wank to the glorious images of Lister’s body that tumbled through his mind.  But he had made himself focus and willed his erection away. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by fantasy when he was potentially so close to the real thing.

So he had stood in front of the mirror and concentrated on his outfit.  But what to wear!  After agonising over it for a good half an hour he had remembered a film that Lister loved were the main character had turned up at the end in a crisp white military uniform and swept his love interest off their feet.  Since the emergency drill had ended full power had been restored to his light bee, including the ability to alter his appearance at will, so it was easy to change into his admiral’s suit with his long service medals gleaming on his chest.  But the cap had felt a bit too much so he’d ditched it only to find that the uniform just didn’t look quite right without some form of headwear.

That was when he’d remembered the AR ‘Gumshoe’ game that Lister used to play on Starbug, the one he’d used for sex so much that he’d worn out the groinal attachment within three weeks.  Unbeknownst to Lister, that headset had recorded all game play and Rimmer had discovered in delight that Lister hadn’t just been using it to have sex with the female characters.  He’d spent a memorable afternoon watching a recording of Lister bonking a handsome Humphrey Bogart-esque man in the back of a Bentley.  The computer sprite had worn a dark fedora pushed down rakishly over one eye.  As he pictured the hat it materialised on his own head.  Perfect. Then it was just the footwear to sort out.

A pair of smart dress shoes seemed the obvious choice, buffed to such a shine that a dentist could use them in place of mirrors when extracting a tooth.  But would they be the right choice for an evening with Lister? What if he wanted to go dancing? All of the dates he’d told Rimmer about in the past had seemed to end with dancing, or at least Lister’s equivalent of dancing, which appeared to consist of jiggling up and down in the kind of overcrowded nightclub where your shoes became glued to the sticky floor and the temperature was hotter than the inside of a sun.  But what do you wear for dancing?

A long forgotten memory of an outing to the theatre had risen to the surface of Rimmer’s mind. His mother had once dragged him to a show where they had met up with Uncle Frank.  His mother and Frank had disappeared half way through the first act, leaving young Rimmer alone to watch the performance.  It had been a musical with lots of dancing, and the whole cast had worn glittery silver jazz shoes.  He focused on the memory and the shoes appeared on his feet.  He thought he had been prepared for all eventualities and had hurried to Parrots, well aware that by then he was running very late.

But as he lay in his bunk, tears coursing down his cheeks and fizzing out in little sparks before they hit the pillow, he wished he hadn’t bothered with any of it.  What was the point?  He should have just let his charge run out on the desert moon.  The only reason he hadn’t was because Lister had made Rimmer think that he cared, that they were a team.  But clearly that was just a heap of steaming smeg; Lister wasn’t his sun and they would never make moonlight together.  Maybe he should just deactivate to save himself any further pain.  He could turn soft light and sit in the rubbish disposal until his light bee was shot out into space; at least that way he wouldn’t have to feel anything ever again. But even the thought of moving required energy he didn’t have, so instead he buried his head further into his pillows and continued to cry.

**********************************************************************************

After what felt like an eternity the room stopped whirling around Lister and he stood up gingerly, gripping onto the back of a chair as he pulled himself up.  He took a few tentative steps forward and when the room continued to remain the right way up he walked out into the corridor and managed to stumble down to the G deck kitchen.

Kryten and the Cat were already there; the mechanoid was putting the finishing touches to a lightly sautéed haddock while Cat banged his cutlery impatiently against the table. Lister ignored both of them and made his way to a cupboard to fetch a pint glass which he preceded to fill with tap water. He chugged it all before he refilled and also downed the second glass.  He braced himself against the counter top, feeling vaguely more human than before.

“How did your date with Mister Rimmer go?” Kryten enquired politely.

Lister groaned.  “I smegged it up, Kryts.  I smegged it up big time.  Worse than when Jim Bexley Speed missed the penalty shootout during the 2176 Zero G World Cup.  Worse than when Richard Nixon thought it’d be a good idea to send a few guys along to the Watergate Complex to plant a couple of bugs for him.”

“Oh sir!” exclaimed Kryten. “It couldn’t have been that bad!”

Lister shook his head in despair.  “It was Kryten.  It was terrible.  I don’t even know if Rimmer will speak to me ever again.”

The Cat swivelled round in his seat.  “And that’s a bad thing?  Hell, I’d seriously consider giving up at least two of my suits if it meant I never had to speak to goalpost head again!”

“But I want to talk to Rimmer!” Lister cried, refilling his glass of water and taking a swig.  “I want to talk about all the things that have gone unsaid over the years, because if not now then when?”

“Maybe it’s best to wait until morning sir”, said Kryten.  “Let both of you calm down a bit and then try again.”

Lister shook his head. “No, I can’t wait that long.  I won’t be able to sleep until I get this sorted.”

The Cat cleared his throat impatiently.  “Hey. I think both of you are missing the big picture here.”

“And what’s that?” asked Lister.

The Cat banged his knife and fork on the table.  “When am I going to get my dinner?”

“Apologies sir!” said Kryten and slipped the fish from the frying pan onto the Cat’s plate.  The Felis sapien dug in hungrily, humming the tune to ‘I’m gonna eat you little fishy’ as he ate.

Lister groaned again. “I’ve got to fix this and I’ve got to fix it now.  Holly, where’s Rimmer?”

Holly’s face appeared on the kitchen screen.  “Arnold is currently in your quarters, pretending to sleep while actually bawling into his pillow.”

“Oh smegging hell!” said Lister.  He took another gulp of water and banged the glass down on the counter.  “I’m going to go and talk to him.  Wish me luck Kryts.”

“Good luck sir!” Kryten called as Lister strode out of the kitchen.  

The Cat finished his meal and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.  “You think those two will work it out?” he asked Kryten.

“Well sir, I believe stranger things have happened, although only two such instances come to mind. The spontaneous combustion of the Mayor of Warsaw in 1546 and that incident in 12th Century Burgundy when it rained herring…”