Little ficlet: Alterations. PG.

[roadstergal.livejournal.com]

I'm not dead! I just got married. There is life (and fic) after the latter, it turns out.

Title: Alterations
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, or any of the characters, plots, or settings. I make no money from this.
Spoilers: Eeeeeverything.
Beta: kahvi
Notes: A direct followup to kahvi's Summer.


It was with a significant lack of confidence - or even that cheap standin that he frequently fell back upon, bravado - that Rimmer walked through the door and into the hospital room. It wasn't every day that someone came back from the dead, after all. Really came back, that is - not wishy-washy half-brought-back soft-light can't-touch-anything-but-your-own-tadger brought back. Not that he was bitter, of course. Being hard-light was better than being alive, in many ways, and he had spent enough time with dimensional alternates to know that if he brought his own small pile of dessicated remains back to life, he would not be able to stand the twat.

Certainly, Rimmer had thought as he looked through the one-way mirror just a few minutes ago, being alive made Lister look a sight better than he had dead. Rimmer was not certain, at first, if the hideous appearance of that gerbily visage was due to Lister being male in this dimension, or being dead, but being animated did help it rather a lot. Despite the crow's feet around the eyes and parentheses marks around the mouth, signs of someone who had spent a lifetime or two grinning just as inanely as Rimmer's Lister used to.

Which, of course, made this whole situation dangerous. Rimmer had, after quite a bit of time as Ace and quite a few tepid shags with maidens in distress, come to terms with the fact that he was 'alternately sexed' (no, he was not smegging going to call it 'gay,' even after seeing the dimension where Io House was full of scented baths and Romanesque couches). He had finally been able to say, with relief, that he had never been attracted to Lister - which had been a relief, since he had felt, as a red-blooded male, that he should be virile with any potential partner who might - so to speak - arise. But this Lister was male, which raised any number of complications, and had a large, tasty bulge in his trousers, which raised something entirely uncomplicated.

So it was with trepadation that Rimmer walked through the door, saying, in a quavering voice, "Dave?"

Comments

[kahvi.livejournal.com]

As always, m'dear, I love those little - sometimes bittersweet - twists you make to my stories. This is one of the better ones I've seen, and I actually prefer it to my own idea. Because it would work, I think. In some strange way. I would prefer to have Lister find his own Arn, but you never know what the future brings. I like this. I really do.

[roadstergal.livejournal.com]

You inspire me like nothing else, madame! :D