Fic: A Man's Man, part 1
Aug. 28th, 2008 10:22 pmTitle: A Man's Man, part 1
Pairing: Lister/Rimmer
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, and I do not profit from this. I just do this to amuse myself.
I'm using a prompt from
lgbtfest, which I didn't have time to play with back then.
617. Red Dwarf: Arnold Judas Rimmer/David Lister. While being Ace, Rimmer is confronted with a dimensional alternate of himself that is openly gay, and in a relationship with that dimension's Lister. This awakens his long-repressed homosexuality, and in desperation, he sets out to find a way to cure it.
He’d wanted to see it, just once, through different eyes. That was what Rimmer told himself, as he shuttled towards Io, a knot forming in his stomach. He knew that he was lying to himself, in a way. The Wildfire had been the one to suggest it, and he was unable to dismiss it, knowing that she knew countless other Aces, and he certainly couldn’t let himself be beaten by that lot. He had to pass the test. Besides, the Wildfire spoke to him with such kindness, even though he knew it was a false, programmed voice. No one had ever spoken to him in such tones, not even Nirvanah. He wanted to hear that alluring, computerized voice praise him; as it always seemed to fill the void inside that he couldn’t quite identify, at least for several minutes.
He knew, in his heart, that everyone he had ever known would be long dead. He knew that there would be no confrontations, no awkward explanations. They would all be gone, that ghastly moon reverted to a deserted wasteland, and that was how it should be, after all. As far as he was concerned, no one should have set foot on Io, no matter how insane they were, or how dire their circumstances. He couldn’t remember the number of times he’d heard the story of how his ancestors had sought their fortune, fleeing Earth to become one of the oldest family lines on the moon. Mining on Io was so harsh that most families were ended before they were even conceived, after all; so three generations was nothing to sneeze at. The Rimmer family had not only survived, but thrived by Ionian standards; attaining a large yet simple house with a lavishly landscaped garden. On Io, they had what they could never afford on Earth, and the Rimmers used their modest wealth to keep up appearances, doing their best to ape the noble and wealthy on Earth and Titan. All of it would now be swept away by the fierce mineral winds that had, over time, disintegrated the shield that contained the artificial atmosphere, and Rimmer found that he was not sorry, although some distant part of himself felt guilty for the thought.
As he neared the edges of the Galilean moons’ orbits, he almost lost his nerve. He became queasy, that familiar sinking feeling grabbing hold of his gut, the same cold dread that he’d felt every summer upon his return from boarding school as he caught sight of the dull, yellowish moon in the distance. Past Callisto, past Ganymede, Europa… and oh, the nausea was growing… There it was, a ball of solid molten rock covered with a film of noxious, sulphuric gas; its peaks and craters forming greenish splotches against the fields of xanthic rust, which had always reminded him of a particularly moldy cheese, something he’d find underfoot in Lister’s quarters, long forgotten and melded to a chipped plate.
A dull headache was coming on. “I think I’ve seen enough, old girl.” He lowered his eyes, focusing on the comfortingly dull metal of the cockpit. He hoped the Wildfire wouldn’t press him to orbit, or even worse, land. “Nothing left to see, after all.” His voice slipped a little, losing its false bravado.
“Are you certain, Ace, darling? It’s very important to confront your demons.” the Wildfire purred, sensually. Rimmer bristled. What had possessed his predecessor to program this sort of new age nonsense?
“There’s plenty of real demons out there needing a good thrashing.” He replied, tersely. “Don’t you worry your pretty little processor about the likes of me.” Was this another test? Maybe Ace had believed that he should confront his so-called demons, but Ace was dead, now wasn’t he, and Arnie J. was in the cockpit. He didn’t need to subject himself to therapy from a navigation computer.
“But, Ace…”
The saccharine tone was grating on him, now. “I won’t say it again.” He snapped. “Get us out of here.”
The Wildfire was silent as the engines roared, gearing up for a jump. Rimmer fidgeted, trying to gage the level of her disapproval. His mother had been a master of this technique, leaving him to obsess for hours over his worthlessness. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had to stop thinking like this! She was just a machine, a computer with less AI than Holly. She couldn’t possibly be testing him, it was all in his head.
That decided, he leaned back, and closed his eyes. When he awoke, there would be a blank slate before him, a new dimension to reinvent himself yet again.
Pairing: Lister/Rimmer
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, and I do not profit from this. I just do this to amuse myself.
I'm using a prompt from
617. Red Dwarf: Arnold Judas Rimmer/David Lister. While being Ace, Rimmer is confronted with a dimensional alternate of himself that is openly gay, and in a relationship with that dimension's Lister. This awakens his long-repressed homosexuality, and in desperation, he sets out to find a way to cure it.
He’d wanted to see it, just once, through different eyes. That was what Rimmer told himself, as he shuttled towards Io, a knot forming in his stomach. He knew that he was lying to himself, in a way. The Wildfire had been the one to suggest it, and he was unable to dismiss it, knowing that she knew countless other Aces, and he certainly couldn’t let himself be beaten by that lot. He had to pass the test. Besides, the Wildfire spoke to him with such kindness, even though he knew it was a false, programmed voice. No one had ever spoken to him in such tones, not even Nirvanah. He wanted to hear that alluring, computerized voice praise him; as it always seemed to fill the void inside that he couldn’t quite identify, at least for several minutes.
He knew, in his heart, that everyone he had ever known would be long dead. He knew that there would be no confrontations, no awkward explanations. They would all be gone, that ghastly moon reverted to a deserted wasteland, and that was how it should be, after all. As far as he was concerned, no one should have set foot on Io, no matter how insane they were, or how dire their circumstances. He couldn’t remember the number of times he’d heard the story of how his ancestors had sought their fortune, fleeing Earth to become one of the oldest family lines on the moon. Mining on Io was so harsh that most families were ended before they were even conceived, after all; so three generations was nothing to sneeze at. The Rimmer family had not only survived, but thrived by Ionian standards; attaining a large yet simple house with a lavishly landscaped garden. On Io, they had what they could never afford on Earth, and the Rimmers used their modest wealth to keep up appearances, doing their best to ape the noble and wealthy on Earth and Titan. All of it would now be swept away by the fierce mineral winds that had, over time, disintegrated the shield that contained the artificial atmosphere, and Rimmer found that he was not sorry, although some distant part of himself felt guilty for the thought.
As he neared the edges of the Galilean moons’ orbits, he almost lost his nerve. He became queasy, that familiar sinking feeling grabbing hold of his gut, the same cold dread that he’d felt every summer upon his return from boarding school as he caught sight of the dull, yellowish moon in the distance. Past Callisto, past Ganymede, Europa… and oh, the nausea was growing… There it was, a ball of solid molten rock covered with a film of noxious, sulphuric gas; its peaks and craters forming greenish splotches against the fields of xanthic rust, which had always reminded him of a particularly moldy cheese, something he’d find underfoot in Lister’s quarters, long forgotten and melded to a chipped plate.
A dull headache was coming on. “I think I’ve seen enough, old girl.” He lowered his eyes, focusing on the comfortingly dull metal of the cockpit. He hoped the Wildfire wouldn’t press him to orbit, or even worse, land. “Nothing left to see, after all.” His voice slipped a little, losing its false bravado.
“Are you certain, Ace, darling? It’s very important to confront your demons.” the Wildfire purred, sensually. Rimmer bristled. What had possessed his predecessor to program this sort of new age nonsense?
“There’s plenty of real demons out there needing a good thrashing.” He replied, tersely. “Don’t you worry your pretty little processor about the likes of me.” Was this another test? Maybe Ace had believed that he should confront his so-called demons, but Ace was dead, now wasn’t he, and Arnie J. was in the cockpit. He didn’t need to subject himself to therapy from a navigation computer.
“But, Ace…”
The saccharine tone was grating on him, now. “I won’t say it again.” He snapped. “Get us out of here.”
The Wildfire was silent as the engines roared, gearing up for a jump. Rimmer fidgeted, trying to gage the level of her disapproval. His mother had been a master of this technique, leaving him to obsess for hours over his worthlessness. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had to stop thinking like this! She was just a machine, a computer with less AI than Holly. She couldn’t possibly be testing him, it was all in his head.
That decided, he leaned back, and closed his eyes. When he awoke, there would be a blank slate before him, a new dimension to reinvent himself yet again.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 09:34 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment- I know that feeling all too well, whenever I turn the corner closest to my elementary school!