Fic: Congratulations - R/L (imp) - PG
Aug. 29th, 2007 11:56 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
kahvi.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
reddwarfslashTitle: Congratulations
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister (implied)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is not my universe. I am just borrowing it, and I make no money from it.
Spoilers: Emohawk.
Notes: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
roadstergal for an absolutely wonderful passage, which in part inspired this entire story. Please do concrit. Always! Concrit is tasty.
"I don't want to hear it!" Lister didn't have to turn around to see the vulture-esque grin on Rimmer's face. The hologram's scorn was evident even in the sound of his boots slamming against the deck; there was something uncannily cheerful about it. He liked to make noise as he walked; perhaps to emphasise the fact that his feet now actually hit the floor.
"Did I say anything? Was I even about to say anything?" There came a chuckle to compliment the smirk Lister knew was there, but still he did not turn. What Rimmer had come here for, Lister knew, was to gain as much personal enjoyment from Lister's misery as possible. Well, he wasn't going to be miserable. He was going to be smegging upbeat and chipper, and in order to manage that, it was vital that he did not see that bastard's smegging, goited, grinning... Sighing, he turned. It was clearly already too late.
"Yeah, you smegging were! I know ya didn't come here for the pleasure of my smegging company! The only reason you could possibly have for coming up here when I'm on cockpit duty would be to give me smeg about something, yeah? Well, I'm not having it! Smeg off!"
Looking exactly as Lister had predicted, light reflecting off his blue uniform and onto his face in odd patterns, Rimmer gave another chuckle. "My, Listy; what an extensive vocabulary you have for an art college student. The mind boggles to think of what you might have become had you actually graduated. For your information," he hurried on before Lister could interrupt, "I am not here to give you smeg about anything. In fact I'm here to offer you my heartiest congratulations!"
“Eh?”
“On your recent marriage, of course! Ĉampinjono, as we say in Esperanto.” He tried to beam, not quite managing; his simulated facial muscles not quite seeming up to the task.
"Rimmer..." Lister looked him up and down. He was practically bouncing, nose in the air, nostrils flaring, looking almost like a parody of himself. Ĉampinjono was the Esperanto word for mushroom. Everyone knew that, because it was written on half the boxes on crew pizza night back on Red Dwarf, but Rimmer had never been to crew pizza night. He had never been to anything at all, constantly studying for his exams, and he usually didn't end up going to those either. "Why couldn't ya just have stayed as Ace, man? I mean, why? Really?"
“What does that have to do with anything?” Rimmer frowned. “Anyway, you know I couldn't, even if I'd wanted to. The poofy git forced Kryten to change him back. Said something me 'having to earn it on my own' or some rot like that. Bastard's memories are in my head.” He scratched at it, as if this would make them go away.
Lister sighed. “Never mind.” How Holly ever thought he'd be able to keep Lister sane was a mystery. These days it was all Lister could to do keep Rimmer from driving him absolutely spare. “Just... don't talk about that whole wedding thing, yeah? Just leave it.”
Rimmer's frown grew deeper. “You're really upset about it, aren't you?”
Slamming his fist against random buttons he hoped weren't connected to anything important, Lister sighed. “I just tied the knot with the abominable snowman's sister. I'm Bigfoot's brother-in-law! Of course I'm upset about it!”
“Admittedly, she's not much of a looker, but...”
“It's not that,” Lister barked, startling himself with the force of his words. “It's...” He sighed. Why even bother? Because, a voice inside him prodded, he's there, and he's listening, and somewhere inside that thick head of his is Ace. “I just thought I would marry someone special, you know?”
“Well, if you're looking for special...”
“You know what I mean! Someone interesting and beautiful and smart, like...” don't say Kochanski, that inner voice warned him, but it was too late. “Like Kochanski.”
Rimmer rolled his eyes, groaning exaggeratedly. “Unbelievable. You are unbelievable! Five years on, and you're still hung up on her.”
“Not five; it's hardly gone three. People stay married for much longer than that, you know.”
“Yes,” Rimmer placed a contemplative finger at his lips, “but the thing about those people, Lister, is that they're actually married, not hoping to marry their three million years dead ex-girlfriend.”
One of the buttons had begun to blink in blue and green. Lister swatted at it until it stopped. “All I'm saying is, I want someone I can spend my life with, yeah? Someone who I'll want to stay with even after years and years of being together. Someone I can disagree with and even argue with without breaking up; someone who drives me crazy without driving nuts.” He paused, biting his lip. Now that he said it out loud like that, it did sound just a little far fetched. Where would he ever find someone like that? It would have been a feat even back on Red Dwarf, or Earth even, but three million years out in space? “Someone like that,” he ended, lamely.
“Riiight.” Craning his head, Lister saw Rimmer lean against a console with a look of mock comprehension. “And when you find this wonder woman, you'll marry her?”
“Well, no.” Another button had started blinking. This time, Lister let it. Nothing ever seemed to come of it. “That's just it. I won't be able to, now.”
“Listy, I rather doubt GELF law is binding in other jurisdictions.”
“Don't matter. I'll know I am.” Sighing again, he looked out into space. Excepting the odd swirly thing and hostile ship, space was pretty much dull. Dull, black and vast. If the love of his life was out there, and Lister, ever the optimist, wanted to think she was, how would he ever go about finding her?
Rimmer shrugged. “Suit yourself. Frankly, I think you're better off having it over and done with.”
“Eh?”
“Ghastly things, weddings.” Rimmer shuddered and grimaced, pausing as if recalling some particularly nasty event. “The bride is always pissy, the mother-in-law condescending and bitchy, the mother overbearing, the father-in-law disapproving. Meanwhile, you'll be off somewhere drinking an increasing amount and getting increasingly sullen and withdrawn.”
Lister turned towards him, blinking. “And that's what a wedding is like, is it?”
“That's what all my brothers' weddings were like.”
“So...” Lister thought of the the slide of – was it Frank's? - wedding that he had entered that time Kryten found that odd developing fluid. There certainly had been a bit of a strange mood there, but that might have been because some random Scouser had just jumped out of an invisible window at them. “They weren't any fun?”
Rimmer snorted. “Weddings aren't supposed to be fun, Lister. They're supposed to be solemn and serious and to the point, which is why people get drunk and miserable at them. If weddings were fun, you wouldn't need a stag night, would you?”
“And were your brothers' stag nights fun, then?”
“I wouldn't know, I wasn't invited to any of them.”
A discreet cough made them both turn to the aft of the cockpit, where Kryten had just entered. “Pardon me, sirs, just getting ready for changeover.”
Lister nodded at him, with some amount of relief. “Thanks Krytes.” He got up, patting the mechanoid's oddly shaped shoulders on the way out. He wasn't surprised to see that Rimmer had followed him. When Rimmer wanted to talk to you, there was no escaping the man. Odd though, that this subject held such interest for him.
“Look on the bright side, Listy,” Rimmer chirped as Lister sat down to enjoy the hot cup of tea left for him by Kryten. “At least you won't have to suffer through organizing one of those monstrosities.”
“Monstrosities?” Lister mumbled, swallowing his mouthful of tea.
“I'm sure you've had it all planned out in your mind since you were ten, incurable romantic that you are. Not to say that it wouldn't be tasteful; I'm sure people would appreciate a gigantic beer-pissing fountain at the venue.”
He was never going to hear the end of that one, was he? “I don't care about any of that stuff, man.”
Rimmer gave a hollow laugh. “Are you trying to tell me that a man who cries during Androids - don't bother denying it, I saw you watching it with Kryten last week – doesn't care about planning his wedding?”
“That's exactly what I'm telling ya!” Lister emptied the cup, and set it down on the table forcefully. He would have slammed it, but it was the only one they had left. He didn't want to have to resort to drinking out of cereal bowls. “It's not about the event; it's about what comes afterwards. The years and years of afterwards, and that you want them to come. That's what it means. And I can't share that with anyone now. Ever. I can promise them, but I can't show them.”
Lister's eyes met Rimmer's across the table. The hologram swallowed, finally seeming at a loss for words. When he just stared, his mouth flapping open and shut as though a mute-button had been pressed, Lister got up, tilting his head at him.
“Why do you care, anyway?” He took a step closer, licking residual tea off his lips and twisting them in amusement. Rimmer just watched him, swallowing. Amused by how nervous it clearly made him, Lister moved even closer, getting in his face. Rimmer didn't budge. For a moment, they just stood there, Lister with his mouth open just a fraction, amusement dancing in his eyes. Then, with a snort and a giggle, he backed away, heading towards his quarters for some well-earned sleep.
He felt so much better. To have turned the tables like that on the smeghead - unsettling Rimmer the way he had wanted to unsettle him – priceless. Lister whistled as he bounced through the door, shedding his clothes and throwing them randomly about. Soon, he was settled underneath his comfortable duvet with the lights off. Bliss.
It was only hours later, when he woke and couldn't get back to sleep, that something began to prod at the back of his mind. When they had been standing there, just before Lister had left... had Rimmer... leaned forwards?
In the darkness, Lister swallowed, running the scene over and over in his mind.
He had leaned forwards.
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister (implied)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is not my universe. I am just borrowing it, and I make no money from it.
Spoilers: Emohawk.
Notes: Thanks to
roadstergal for an absolutely wonderful passage, which in part inspired this entire story. Please do concrit. Always! Concrit is tasty. "I don't want to hear it!" Lister didn't have to turn around to see the vulture-esque grin on Rimmer's face. The hologram's scorn was evident even in the sound of his boots slamming against the deck; there was something uncannily cheerful about it. He liked to make noise as he walked; perhaps to emphasise the fact that his feet now actually hit the floor.
"Did I say anything? Was I even about to say anything?" There came a chuckle to compliment the smirk Lister knew was there, but still he did not turn. What Rimmer had come here for, Lister knew, was to gain as much personal enjoyment from Lister's misery as possible. Well, he wasn't going to be miserable. He was going to be smegging upbeat and chipper, and in order to manage that, it was vital that he did not see that bastard's smegging, goited, grinning... Sighing, he turned. It was clearly already too late.
"Yeah, you smegging were! I know ya didn't come here for the pleasure of my smegging company! The only reason you could possibly have for coming up here when I'm on cockpit duty would be to give me smeg about something, yeah? Well, I'm not having it! Smeg off!"
Looking exactly as Lister had predicted, light reflecting off his blue uniform and onto his face in odd patterns, Rimmer gave another chuckle. "My, Listy; what an extensive vocabulary you have for an art college student. The mind boggles to think of what you might have become had you actually graduated. For your information," he hurried on before Lister could interrupt, "I am not here to give you smeg about anything. In fact I'm here to offer you my heartiest congratulations!"
“Eh?”
“On your recent marriage, of course! Ĉampinjono, as we say in Esperanto.” He tried to beam, not quite managing; his simulated facial muscles not quite seeming up to the task.
"Rimmer..." Lister looked him up and down. He was practically bouncing, nose in the air, nostrils flaring, looking almost like a parody of himself. Ĉampinjono was the Esperanto word for mushroom. Everyone knew that, because it was written on half the boxes on crew pizza night back on Red Dwarf, but Rimmer had never been to crew pizza night. He had never been to anything at all, constantly studying for his exams, and he usually didn't end up going to those either. "Why couldn't ya just have stayed as Ace, man? I mean, why? Really?"
“What does that have to do with anything?” Rimmer frowned. “Anyway, you know I couldn't, even if I'd wanted to. The poofy git forced Kryten to change him back. Said something me 'having to earn it on my own' or some rot like that. Bastard's memories are in my head.” He scratched at it, as if this would make them go away.
Lister sighed. “Never mind.” How Holly ever thought he'd be able to keep Lister sane was a mystery. These days it was all Lister could to do keep Rimmer from driving him absolutely spare. “Just... don't talk about that whole wedding thing, yeah? Just leave it.”
Rimmer's frown grew deeper. “You're really upset about it, aren't you?”
Slamming his fist against random buttons he hoped weren't connected to anything important, Lister sighed. “I just tied the knot with the abominable snowman's sister. I'm Bigfoot's brother-in-law! Of course I'm upset about it!”
“Admittedly, she's not much of a looker, but...”
“It's not that,” Lister barked, startling himself with the force of his words. “It's...” He sighed. Why even bother? Because, a voice inside him prodded, he's there, and he's listening, and somewhere inside that thick head of his is Ace. “I just thought I would marry someone special, you know?”
“Well, if you're looking for special...”
“You know what I mean! Someone interesting and beautiful and smart, like...” don't say Kochanski, that inner voice warned him, but it was too late. “Like Kochanski.”
Rimmer rolled his eyes, groaning exaggeratedly. “Unbelievable. You are unbelievable! Five years on, and you're still hung up on her.”
“Not five; it's hardly gone three. People stay married for much longer than that, you know.”
“Yes,” Rimmer placed a contemplative finger at his lips, “but the thing about those people, Lister, is that they're actually married, not hoping to marry their three million years dead ex-girlfriend.”
One of the buttons had begun to blink in blue and green. Lister swatted at it until it stopped. “All I'm saying is, I want someone I can spend my life with, yeah? Someone who I'll want to stay with even after years and years of being together. Someone I can disagree with and even argue with without breaking up; someone who drives me crazy without driving nuts.” He paused, biting his lip. Now that he said it out loud like that, it did sound just a little far fetched. Where would he ever find someone like that? It would have been a feat even back on Red Dwarf, or Earth even, but three million years out in space? “Someone like that,” he ended, lamely.
“Riiight.” Craning his head, Lister saw Rimmer lean against a console with a look of mock comprehension. “And when you find this wonder woman, you'll marry her?”
“Well, no.” Another button had started blinking. This time, Lister let it. Nothing ever seemed to come of it. “That's just it. I won't be able to, now.”
“Listy, I rather doubt GELF law is binding in other jurisdictions.”
“Don't matter. I'll know I am.” Sighing again, he looked out into space. Excepting the odd swirly thing and hostile ship, space was pretty much dull. Dull, black and vast. If the love of his life was out there, and Lister, ever the optimist, wanted to think she was, how would he ever go about finding her?
Rimmer shrugged. “Suit yourself. Frankly, I think you're better off having it over and done with.”
“Eh?”
“Ghastly things, weddings.” Rimmer shuddered and grimaced, pausing as if recalling some particularly nasty event. “The bride is always pissy, the mother-in-law condescending and bitchy, the mother overbearing, the father-in-law disapproving. Meanwhile, you'll be off somewhere drinking an increasing amount and getting increasingly sullen and withdrawn.”
Lister turned towards him, blinking. “And that's what a wedding is like, is it?”
“That's what all my brothers' weddings were like.”
“So...” Lister thought of the the slide of – was it Frank's? - wedding that he had entered that time Kryten found that odd developing fluid. There certainly had been a bit of a strange mood there, but that might have been because some random Scouser had just jumped out of an invisible window at them. “They weren't any fun?”
Rimmer snorted. “Weddings aren't supposed to be fun, Lister. They're supposed to be solemn and serious and to the point, which is why people get drunk and miserable at them. If weddings were fun, you wouldn't need a stag night, would you?”
“And were your brothers' stag nights fun, then?”
“I wouldn't know, I wasn't invited to any of them.”
A discreet cough made them both turn to the aft of the cockpit, where Kryten had just entered. “Pardon me, sirs, just getting ready for changeover.”
Lister nodded at him, with some amount of relief. “Thanks Krytes.” He got up, patting the mechanoid's oddly shaped shoulders on the way out. He wasn't surprised to see that Rimmer had followed him. When Rimmer wanted to talk to you, there was no escaping the man. Odd though, that this subject held such interest for him.
“Look on the bright side, Listy,” Rimmer chirped as Lister sat down to enjoy the hot cup of tea left for him by Kryten. “At least you won't have to suffer through organizing one of those monstrosities.”
“Monstrosities?” Lister mumbled, swallowing his mouthful of tea.
“I'm sure you've had it all planned out in your mind since you were ten, incurable romantic that you are. Not to say that it wouldn't be tasteful; I'm sure people would appreciate a gigantic beer-pissing fountain at the venue.”
He was never going to hear the end of that one, was he? “I don't care about any of that stuff, man.”
Rimmer gave a hollow laugh. “Are you trying to tell me that a man who cries during Androids - don't bother denying it, I saw you watching it with Kryten last week – doesn't care about planning his wedding?”
“That's exactly what I'm telling ya!” Lister emptied the cup, and set it down on the table forcefully. He would have slammed it, but it was the only one they had left. He didn't want to have to resort to drinking out of cereal bowls. “It's not about the event; it's about what comes afterwards. The years and years of afterwards, and that you want them to come. That's what it means. And I can't share that with anyone now. Ever. I can promise them, but I can't show them.”
Lister's eyes met Rimmer's across the table. The hologram swallowed, finally seeming at a loss for words. When he just stared, his mouth flapping open and shut as though a mute-button had been pressed, Lister got up, tilting his head at him.
“Why do you care, anyway?” He took a step closer, licking residual tea off his lips and twisting them in amusement. Rimmer just watched him, swallowing. Amused by how nervous it clearly made him, Lister moved even closer, getting in his face. Rimmer didn't budge. For a moment, they just stood there, Lister with his mouth open just a fraction, amusement dancing in his eyes. Then, with a snort and a giggle, he backed away, heading towards his quarters for some well-earned sleep.
He felt so much better. To have turned the tables like that on the smeghead - unsettling Rimmer the way he had wanted to unsettle him – priceless. Lister whistled as he bounced through the door, shedding his clothes and throwing them randomly about. Soon, he was settled underneath his comfortable duvet with the lights off. Bliss.
It was only hours later, when he woke and couldn't get back to sleep, that something began to prod at the back of his mind. When they had been standing there, just before Lister had left... had Rimmer... leaned forwards?
In the darkness, Lister swallowed, running the scene over and over in his mind.
He had leaned forwards.
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Date: 2007-08-30 10:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-31 02:10 pm (UTC)