Vignette - Shorts. PG.

[roadstergal.livejournal.com]

I've written a few vignettes for a LJ meme, and I'm polishing them up a little for this communtiy. This particular vignette also goes into my fanfic100 challenge - my table. It takes place in VI, post-Legion.

"Lister..."

The voice ran down the back of his neck like a pair of ragged fingernails. Lister leaned back in the pilot's chair, making it swing around to face a set of nostrils that would make impressive train tunnels. "What?"

"Lister..." Rimmer repeated, glancing back and forth as if looking for something in the cockpit. "Where are my biking shorts?"

Lister must have misheard. "Your what?"

"You heard me!" the hologram snapped. "My biking shorts!"

It sounded just the same as it had before. It sounded like Rimmer had asked where to find his biking shorts. "Yer asking me where to find yer smeggin' biking shorts? How the smeg should I know?"

"Because they were sitting right on my bedside table, and now they're not there! They didn't just get up and walk away, now did they?"

"Mebbe they did! Mebbe they're GELF-shorts! All I know is that I didn't touch 'em!" The idea of touching lycra that spent a lot of time clinging to Rimmer's privates while the man exercised and sweated was... well, smeg, his penis perked up a bit at the thought. He had been in space for far too long. Or had experienced too many GELF wedding nights.

An idea occurred to Lister as Rimmer inhaled. He spoke quickly, to get it out before Rimmer spat a rejoinder. "Yer uniform is hard-light, innit?"

The rejoinder banged around in Rimmer's mouth, emerging as an, "Er - what? Yes..."

"Well, then," Lister said "if yer bee can make that uniform, it can make a biking kit, yeah?"

Several strange expressions crossed Rimmer's face in rapid succession. With a minor burst of insight, Lister realized they corresponded to Rimmer realizing this was a good idea, then realizing that Lister had thought of it, and finally not enjoying those two thoughts put together. Lister disguised a giggle as a sneeze. No need to rub it in.

Rimmer's expression finally worked itself into something fairly neutral. "That's the silliest idea since velcro-attach condoms. I'll just be off... looking for my shorts somewhere else." He turned and stalked out of the cabin. Lister watched him go. The man wore tight trousers these days, Lister thought, then spun back to face the viewscreen with unnecessary violence. He had been in space far too long.