Fic: Circle - Rimmer/Lister - PG
Just thought I'd post this 'lil fic while I'm working on several longer ones, including some honest-to-gods porn! Wish me luck, heh. ;)
Title: Circle
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf. It owns me. Sadly, it doesn't give me any money.
Spoilers: Holoship
Notes: Written as part of the fanfic100 challenge - my table is here.
The circle. That’s what had made it real, finally, to Lister. That circle around his “H” signifying that Rimmer had been accepted as part of the crew of the Enlightenment meant that it was real, it was going to happen. Rimmer was leaving.
Well, that was a good thing, right? Certainly the Cat was ecstatic, dancing around the ship making up little songs that all involved references to Rimmer’s lack of sexual experience, sense of dress, physical appearance and poor interpersonal skills. Not that words like “interpersonal” were actually used; most were of the four-letter persuasion. Lister played along for a while, suggesting suitable rhymes and mentally re-furnishing the sleeping quarters. He could finally put up that hammock they’d found on a derelict cruise-ship months ago, which Rimmer had vetoed, declaring it “stupid” and “counter-productive to efficiency and on-time productivity,” because he’d been reading up on his “better business” leadership books again. He could brew his own beer, which he’d been wanting to do ever since they found that planetoid entirely composed of yeast. Kryten was still convinced that reading had been due to a fault in one of the scouters, but they could probably still get a hold of some somewhere. And, of course, they were free to activate another hologram; someone who might actually be nice to have around! He could bring back Petersen if he wanted, Chen or Selby even… Or Kristine. He could have Krissie back, if she wanted to. He mulled this over, expecting to feel as fantastic as the Cat, but found himself only smiling weakly.
Rimmer wasn’t bringing any of his personal belongings with him. Well, he couldn’t, could he? It was a hologrammatic ship, composed entirely of light, and light couldn’t be solid, couldn’t contain his books, or his now ruined camphor-wood chest, or his Risk log-books. Not even his telegraph-pole slides, not even one. Rimmer hadn’t mentioned to Lister what he wanted them to do with it all, and so Lister hadn’t touched it. Couldn’t bring himself to. Maybe it was that odd, creeping guilt he felt when looking at the chest, knowing there was a guitar-shaped hole in the back. Maybe it was the death-threats Rimmer would always issue to those who dared touch his belongings, which seemed to ring out even when he wasn’t there. Either way, moving them had just felt wrong, so Lister hadn’t.
Maybe it was that it had all happened so fast. And Rimmer had been right, hadn’t he - things never tended to work out right for Arnold J. Well, now they had, so well done him. He was actually going to leave. Be an officer. Have a successful life. Or death, anyway. Have lots and lots of sex, whenever he wanted to. And Lister had gotten the impression there was a lady on board he was rather interested in. Rimmer wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions, and he was clearly smitten by someone. Lister wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He wasn’t sure how he felt about a lot of things.
It was just weird, was all. Never to see Rimmer again after seeing him every day for many years; it’d be quite a change, yeah? But a good change; of course a good change. For both of them. He glanced out of the cockpit window, where the holoship was hanging in space like some bizarre, twisted diamond, half transparent, glittering of its own accord. It was beautiful. He sighed, then shook his head, remembering Rimmer’s final words. “I’ve come to regard you as people I’ve met.” Yeah, sod you, Rimmer, he thought, heading for the sleeping quarters.
Circle around the “H”. Not part of the crew anymore. Going somewhere else. Never see him again. Quietly, not thinking, Lister kicked off his boots, picked up the duvet Rimmer never used, couldn’t use, wrapped it around himself, and crept into the lower bunk.
He lay there for a while, not thinking, staring at nothing in particular.
Title: Circle
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf. It owns me. Sadly, it doesn't give me any money.
Spoilers: Holoship
Notes: Written as part of the fanfic100 challenge - my table is here.
The circle. That’s what had made it real, finally, to Lister. That circle around his “H” signifying that Rimmer had been accepted as part of the crew of the Enlightenment meant that it was real, it was going to happen. Rimmer was leaving.
Well, that was a good thing, right? Certainly the Cat was ecstatic, dancing around the ship making up little songs that all involved references to Rimmer’s lack of sexual experience, sense of dress, physical appearance and poor interpersonal skills. Not that words like “interpersonal” were actually used; most were of the four-letter persuasion. Lister played along for a while, suggesting suitable rhymes and mentally re-furnishing the sleeping quarters. He could finally put up that hammock they’d found on a derelict cruise-ship months ago, which Rimmer had vetoed, declaring it “stupid” and “counter-productive to efficiency and on-time productivity,” because he’d been reading up on his “better business” leadership books again. He could brew his own beer, which he’d been wanting to do ever since they found that planetoid entirely composed of yeast. Kryten was still convinced that reading had been due to a fault in one of the scouters, but they could probably still get a hold of some somewhere. And, of course, they were free to activate another hologram; someone who might actually be nice to have around! He could bring back Petersen if he wanted, Chen or Selby even… Or Kristine. He could have Krissie back, if she wanted to. He mulled this over, expecting to feel as fantastic as the Cat, but found himself only smiling weakly.
Rimmer wasn’t bringing any of his personal belongings with him. Well, he couldn’t, could he? It was a hologrammatic ship, composed entirely of light, and light couldn’t be solid, couldn’t contain his books, or his now ruined camphor-wood chest, or his Risk log-books. Not even his telegraph-pole slides, not even one. Rimmer hadn’t mentioned to Lister what he wanted them to do with it all, and so Lister hadn’t touched it. Couldn’t bring himself to. Maybe it was that odd, creeping guilt he felt when looking at the chest, knowing there was a guitar-shaped hole in the back. Maybe it was the death-threats Rimmer would always issue to those who dared touch his belongings, which seemed to ring out even when he wasn’t there. Either way, moving them had just felt wrong, so Lister hadn’t.
Maybe it was that it had all happened so fast. And Rimmer had been right, hadn’t he - things never tended to work out right for Arnold J. Well, now they had, so well done him. He was actually going to leave. Be an officer. Have a successful life. Or death, anyway. Have lots and lots of sex, whenever he wanted to. And Lister had gotten the impression there was a lady on board he was rather interested in. Rimmer wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions, and he was clearly smitten by someone. Lister wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He wasn’t sure how he felt about a lot of things.
It was just weird, was all. Never to see Rimmer again after seeing him every day for many years; it’d be quite a change, yeah? But a good change; of course a good change. For both of them. He glanced out of the cockpit window, where the holoship was hanging in space like some bizarre, twisted diamond, half transparent, glittering of its own accord. It was beautiful. He sighed, then shook his head, remembering Rimmer’s final words. “I’ve come to regard you as people I’ve met.” Yeah, sod you, Rimmer, he thought, heading for the sleeping quarters.
Circle around the “H”. Not part of the crew anymore. Going somewhere else. Never see him again. Quietly, not thinking, Lister kicked off his boots, picked up the duvet Rimmer never used, couldn’t use, wrapped it around himself, and crept into the lower bunk.
He lay there for a while, not thinking, staring at nothing in particular.