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reddwarfslash2007-04-09 09:23 am
roadstergal.livejournal.com) wrote in reddwarfslash2007-04-09 09:23 am
Entry tags:
Vignette - Gloves. PG.
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kahvi did that other thing...
Set after Legion. Spoilers for same.
"Boxin' gloves?" Lister asked, sauntering into the midsection. Now that the hole in Starbug had been patched up, he had a little time free to ask about something that had been puzzling him.
Rimmer looked up from his seat at the midsection table with a start, as if he had been caught doing something naughty. "What?"
Lister slid into the seat next to Rimmer and leaned his elbows on the table. "What's with the boxin' gloves?"
Rimmer sniffed. Lister wondered if he had picked his nose wearing the boxing gloves when he was little. It would explain those cavernous nostrils. "It's nothing you would understand, miladdio."
"Nope, I don't understand it. That's why I'm askin' yeh to tell me."
Rimmer looked back down at his book. Lister wondered if he even noticed that he was flipping the pages backwards. "My mother said it was the only proper way to raise a child,” he replied, his voice pretentious. “I believe she wanted to get the fighting spririt in our veins at an early age." Rimmer clenched a fist and waggled it to punctuate that sentence.
It all became rather horribly clear to Lister. But it was a flavor of horrible that invited laughter, and so he began to snicker. He put one gloved hand to his mouth, but his snorting chuckles emerged nonetheless.
Rimmer looked sharply at Lister, his eyebrows narrowing. "What's so funny?"
"It's just..." Lister snorted again, "she did it so you kids wouldn't touch yer willies under the covers, eh?"
"That is ludicrous!" Rimmer snapped. "It's exactly the kind of puerile... filth... I would expect from someone like you." He flipped more pages in his book with ferocity.
"Bet she was the hairy-palms-and-blindness type, eh?" Lister asked. Rimmer would not be this upset if Lister hadn't nailed it, he was sure. "She made yeh sleep with yer hands outside of the covers, too?"
Rimmer stood up, slammed the book shut, tucked it under his arm, and stalked out of the midsection, tossing a "I don't have to sit here and listen to this nonsense..." behind him.
Lister sat back with a sigh. Rimmer's whole family had been a few eggs short of a good lay, hadn't they? Odd that Rimmer had never tried to re-create his 'perfect' sleeping arrangement on Red Dwarf by nicking a set of gloves from the gym. Probably the only reason they had appeared at Legion’s station was that guilt of his that had created the psi-moon sneaking up behind him yet again. He was supposed to appreciate everything his mum did, after all – so he firmly believed.
Still, though, no reason for travails of three million years ago to ruin what pleasure Lister could pull from life. He walked to the fridge and pulled out a lager from a supply that, he could not help noticing, was running dangerously low. He popped the top and swung into the cockpit. "Cat, man - any derelicts around?"
kahvi did that other thing...Set after Legion. Spoilers for same.
"Boxin' gloves?" Lister asked, sauntering into the midsection. Now that the hole in Starbug had been patched up, he had a little time free to ask about something that had been puzzling him.
Rimmer looked up from his seat at the midsection table with a start, as if he had been caught doing something naughty. "What?"
Lister slid into the seat next to Rimmer and leaned his elbows on the table. "What's with the boxin' gloves?"
Rimmer sniffed. Lister wondered if he had picked his nose wearing the boxing gloves when he was little. It would explain those cavernous nostrils. "It's nothing you would understand, miladdio."
"Nope, I don't understand it. That's why I'm askin' yeh to tell me."
Rimmer looked back down at his book. Lister wondered if he even noticed that he was flipping the pages backwards. "My mother said it was the only proper way to raise a child,” he replied, his voice pretentious. “I believe she wanted to get the fighting spririt in our veins at an early age." Rimmer clenched a fist and waggled it to punctuate that sentence.
It all became rather horribly clear to Lister. But it was a flavor of horrible that invited laughter, and so he began to snicker. He put one gloved hand to his mouth, but his snorting chuckles emerged nonetheless.
Rimmer looked sharply at Lister, his eyebrows narrowing. "What's so funny?"
"It's just..." Lister snorted again, "she did it so you kids wouldn't touch yer willies under the covers, eh?"
"That is ludicrous!" Rimmer snapped. "It's exactly the kind of puerile... filth... I would expect from someone like you." He flipped more pages in his book with ferocity.
"Bet she was the hairy-palms-and-blindness type, eh?" Lister asked. Rimmer would not be this upset if Lister hadn't nailed it, he was sure. "She made yeh sleep with yer hands outside of the covers, too?"
Rimmer stood up, slammed the book shut, tucked it under his arm, and stalked out of the midsection, tossing a "I don't have to sit here and listen to this nonsense..." behind him.
Lister sat back with a sigh. Rimmer's whole family had been a few eggs short of a good lay, hadn't they? Odd that Rimmer had never tried to re-create his 'perfect' sleeping arrangement on Red Dwarf by nicking a set of gloves from the gym. Probably the only reason they had appeared at Legion’s station was that guilt of his that had created the psi-moon sneaking up behind him yet again. He was supposed to appreciate everything his mum did, after all – so he firmly believed.
Still, though, no reason for travails of three million years ago to ruin what pleasure Lister could pull from life. He walked to the fridge and pulled out a lager from a supply that, he could not help noticing, was running dangerously low. He popped the top and swung into the cockpit. "Cat, man - any derelicts around?"
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It all became rather horribly clear to Lister. But it was a flavor of horrible that invited laughter, and so he began to snicker. He put one gloved hand to his mouth, but his snorting chuckles emerged nonetheless.
I love this. In fact, I love this whole scene. How Lister moves... it's terribly... cute. Maybe it's that I've just capped VI, but yes.
One thing that did strike me was that I think Lister might have found the idea of what Rimmer's mom did a little more horrifying than what you show him thinking here, but then again, he might do so once he gets a chance to sit down and think about it for a while. Right now he's happy, so it doesn't penetrate, so to speak.
I'm bad with words right now. Goodfic.
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We should yammer about that the next time you're online - I have a few ideas. ;)
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Whatever it was, I'm sure he blames the gloves. :p
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The authors said 'myriad of' in the About page, though. *slaps them* Plethora is a noun and myriad is an adjective!
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