reddwarfslash | Fic: A Cunning Plan - PG-13

Title: A Cunning Plan
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister (implied), and various other implications.
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Red Dwarf. Nor do I make any money from this fannish venture.
Spoilers: Set early in series VIII.
Beta: The always helpful

smaych
Notes: While cleaning out my e-mail folders at my old job, I found some drafts I'd forgotten about. (Not that I write at work. Of course not. *ahem*) I decided to take hold of them and flesh them out. This is the first one. Of them.

The lurid fabric shimmered, moving through Lister's fingers like liquid latex as he let the skirt drop back into the box in which Bob had brought it. He jumped back, as if afraid it would leap up and force itself onto him. He brushed at his crotch distractedly. "No. No smegging way, Rimmer."

Rimmer snorted into the ice-pack he was holding up to his black eye. "Not your color?"

Lister shook his head, empathically. "I am not doing this, no way. No how."

"Why not?"

"You need to ask? What kind of a daft plan is that, anyway? Yeah, only female prisoners are allowed into the Officers Winter Party, but ye can't just throw high heels, a wig and fake boobs on me and expect Extreme Makeover - Transgender Edition!"

Giving up on the ice-pack and tossing it on the table, Rimmer crossed his legs, giving Lister a haughty stare. "I'm not saying you have to look like Miss December; you just have to pass well enough for Todhunter to let you in. Now," he waved a finger, "if it were Ackerman, I grant you, I would be worried. Nothing gets past that man. But Todhunter? I know him. He'll do anything with breasts and a working pair of legs, and the latter is optional. He simply oozes testosterone."

"Really?" Lister frowned. That didn't sound like the Todhunter he knew.

"Oh yes. A real man's man. I've always looked up to him, you know."

"No kidding."

"His weakness for women is his only flaw. When he sees you in that get-up, you'll be lucky if you can make it inside before he pulls you off into some dark corner and gives you one." Rimmer nodded sagely, a strange light in his eyes. "He's a frighteningly masculine man."

Lister shook his head in disbelief. "What are you saying? That I should tart myself up and throw myself at Todhunter to get into the Captain's quarters, just because you heard from 'someone'" Lister mimed quotes in the air, "that we might find some dirt on him there? Did ye even think this through, or do ya just fancy the idea of seeing me in a syntho-leather skirt?"

Rimmer started. "What? No! Of course not. But the party is held in the entertaining suite directly connected to the Captain’s quarters, and this is our only reasonable chance of getting into them. I’m not saying it’s a good chance, but it’s a chance, isn’t it?”

A pair of deep red high-heeled shoes lay in front of him. Lister kicked them. How the skutters had been able to find women’s shoes in his size he just did not want to know. “Then why don’t you dress up, eh Rimmer? Red’s a good color for ya, it brings out yer eyes.”

Rimmer snorted. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lister. Look at that skirt. It’d barely fit over your fat arse, and I’m a head taller than you.”

“Eight point five centimeters,” Lister replied automatically; the subject had come up more than once.

“Whatever; the point is, were I to wear that… garment…” Rimmer picked it up between thumb and forefinger, as though afraid he would catch something from it, “I would be baring enough for it to be readily apparent that I’m not of the female persuasion, let’s just put it that way. Besides,” he prodded the skin around his eye carefully, “there isn’t any make-up, so there’s no way of covering this up.”

Lister shook his head. “You have got to stop letting the guards beat ya up. It’s not going to win ye any favors, ya know; they just enjoy doing it. It’s not some weird kind of bonding ritual.”

Rimmer glared, which gave quite an effect with his beat-up eye. “You have your methods, I have mine, Listy. But if it bothers you that much, if we could get that dirt on the Captain, we wouldn’t have to be in here much longer, and no one would have to get beaten by anyone.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not doing it, all right?” If Rimmer wanted to be an idiot, that was his own lookout. Lister was not about to put a skirt on for anyone.

Apparently lost in sudden thought, Rimmer pursed his lips. “Did I tell you,” he said, eventually, “about the Winter Party?”

“Whatever ye have to say Rimmer, it’s not going to work.”

“No, but really, I think you’d be interested.”

“I’m not.” Lister sat down, kicking at the box sullenly.

“It’s a men-only affair, as far as the officers are concerned. They bring in female prisoners from the women’s wing, give them an evening off in exchange for parading around the place all dressed up, and giving the room a bit of color.”

“Ye told me that already. And in summer, they bring in men for the female officer’s do, right? But it’s not summer, is it?”

Rimmer wagged a finger. “Ah, but what I neglected to tell you was how they select the women. To prevent any… goings on… only gay prisoners are allowed to go.”

Lister sat up, suddenly all ears. Another organ was showing some healthy interest too. “Lesbians? All the female guests are lesbians?”

Rimmer nodded, sagely. “Every last one. You might have to make out with one or two of them just to be on the safe side. But as you’re not interested…”

But Lister had already taken the box away into a corner, eagerly stripping out of his jumpsuit. He’d do pretty much anything for a chance to make it with a lesbian. He’d seen films about them.

Watching Lister trot awkwardly off into the distance, Rimmer beckoned into the shadows. “Come on,” he hissed, waving his hand impatiently.

A suspiciously-looking Kryten appeared, hiding something in his hands. “Sir, I’m still not too sure about this,” he mumbled, confusion and caution in his voice. The spineless git. Rimmer really had no time for him.

“Just get on with it. It’s what he wanted, I assure you. You see how eagerly he’s rushing off there.”

Kryten hesitated. “Yes, but… why did he ask the be escorted to the Captain’s quarters? There’s nothing going on there. And why would he want to seduce Todhunter? It doesn’t seem at all like him, sir.”

“I told you, it was a bet. It’s a human thing, you wouldn’t understand it.”

Kryten raised an eyebrow-ridge. “Is this one of those sexuality things again, sir? I’ve never really gotten the hang of that. It’s so terribly complicated.”

Desperately schooling his face to neutrality, Rimmer managed to nod. “Yes. One of those things.”

This seemed to assuage Kryten somewhat. “He did seem eager.” Then his face, in as much as he had one, fell into a frown again. “But why would he want pictures, sir?”

Rimmer had no problems smiling at that. “Never you mind. Just follow him. You’re on leave today, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir, but…”

“Grand! Then there’s no more to be said, is there? Run along now.” He smiled, waving Kryten on.

The mechanoid shot him a look. “I can’t say I trust you, sir, but Mister Lister did look very happy. I’ll be back shortly.” He ambled off, clutching his camera.

Left to himself, Rimmer crossed his arms, smiling. All in all, an excellent day for Arnie J! Lister would be humiliated, Rimmer would get his hands on some pictures that would make excellent blackmail material in future, and he’d manage to upset that metal git in the process too. Marvelous. Soon, he’d have pictures of Lister, making moves on Todhunter in that tight… Yes. Quite a mental image, that. Lister and Todhunter. No telling how far it might go, before Lister was found out. They might... Rimmer swallowed, suddenly feeling all too warm. He would have to sit down. Simply wait it out.

Until the pictures came.