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reddwarfslash2008-10-15 05:17 pm
kahvi.livejournal.com) wrote in reddwarfslash2008-10-15 05:17 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Yarn - R/L - PG - R/L (imp)
Title: Yarn
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister (implied)
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Red Dwarf. Nor do I make any money from this fannish venture.
Spoilers for series III (minor).
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
roadstergal.
Rimmer looked at the... thing - the object - in Lister's outstretched hands, squinting at it this way and that. If he turned his head... no. Or perhaps the other way... still nothing.
"Well?" Lister looked up at him, brown eyes earnest and impatient like a begging puppy.
"Erm..." It was clearly yarn-based, in some shape or form. Or no shape or form, which would be a more fitting description. It was vaguely oblong, but that's as far as Rimmer was willing to committ, description-of-shape-wise. "I'm not sure what you want me to do with it, exactly."
"Well, d'ye like it?" There was no great leap of the imagination required to envision a tail behind the man, wagging eagerly.
"Do I like it?" Rimmer was taken aback. It was a bit like asking if he liked insulated copper wiring. It didn't seem like the sort of thing to which preference applied.
"Yeah, do ye like it?"
"Do I..." Rimmer shook himself, not wanting to get stuck in an infinite loop of bafflement. "I... did you make this?"
Lister snatched the thing away, seeming almost insulted. "Of course I made it! What d'ye think I've been working on fer the last month?"
Various mental gears and images collided in Rimmers mind, and came up with a chilling conclusion. "You've knitted this?"
Lister rolled his eyes. "No," he said, smoothing the thing out with his hands, "I've stapled it together out of chocolate-wrappers. What do you think?"
Leaning over to get a closer look now that Lister was holding it, protectively, Rimmer frowned, critically. "I don't know; the evidence seems equally in favor of both theories."
"Yeah, yeah!" Lister leered, throwing the contraption over his shoulder. "It's a scarf, see?" He tucked one end around his neck, as if to demonstrate.
Rimmer stared at it. "Well, if function is definition, you're evidently right, Lister. Then again, I've seen you use an old, torn-up shower-curtain as a scarf."
Lister shrugged. "It was raining; it seemed like a good idea."
"Yes, well, that," Rimmer pointed at the so-called scarf, "is not a good idea. I think, Lister, that if you can find a definition anywhere of the opposite of a good idea, it will have a picture of that scarf illustrating it."
That, Rimmer felt, was a nice, final word. All in all, he was rather pleased with it, and considered the conversation over and done with. It surprised him, therefore, when Lister, having turned the thing over and over in his hands, asked "so you don't want it, then?"
"What?"
"Do you not want it?" Lister asked again, simply. Rimmer tried to glare at him, but Lister wasn't looking in the right direction. His eyes were turned towards the viewport window, watching the fake stars, casually.
"You knitted me a scarf?" Lister shrugged, indicating a careless affirmative. Rimmer watched him, his features struggling to work out the signals his artificial brain was giving them. In the end, they gave up, falling apart into one single syllable. "Why?"
Lister shrugged, still turning the thing over, still looking at the stars. "Something to do, yeah?"
"So you knitted me a scarf?"
"Yeah. It was only 'cause I kept coming over the same sort of color, and I thought it might match yer uniform." Lister stretched the garment out, running his fingers over the various stripes of not-quite-red.
"What about the pink?"
Another shrug. "We're in deep space - I work with what I've got."
"Now," Rimmer began, glad to have something to latch onto, "this may have escaped your attention, Lister, but I am, in fact, incorporeal. What the smeg do you expect me to do with a scarf?"
Sighing, Lister let the mostrocity slip from his grasp, getting up. "Never mind, man. I'm gonna go see if I can find Petersen's secret stash of vodka again."
Rimmer watched him go. One of the ever-present skutters, having watched from the corner, clicked its beak in question. Rimmer glared at it, and for a moment, artificial man and machine were locked in a staring contest, before Rimmer yelled "oh, pick it up, then, you mechanical bastard!"
Whirring happily, the skutter wheeled itself over to the scarf, picked it up expertly, and started to head out of the room. Something akin to panic rose in Rimmer.
"Stop!" he shouted, and the skutter turned 'round, its head turned in question.
"Leave it," Rimmer mumbled.
The skutter whirred, confusedly, then moved to drop the scarf on the table. Almost unnoticably, Rimmer shook his head. The skutter moved to the chair. Rimmer shook it again. A little more slowly now, the skutter finally moved towards the bunks, bending its neck down to place the scarf on the bottom bunk. There was an equally subtle nodding. The skutter let the scarf go, and hurried out.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister (implied)
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Red Dwarf. Nor do I make any money from this fannish venture.
Spoilers for series III (minor).
Notes: For
roadstergal.Rimmer looked at the... thing - the object - in Lister's outstretched hands, squinting at it this way and that. If he turned his head... no. Or perhaps the other way... still nothing.
"Well?" Lister looked up at him, brown eyes earnest and impatient like a begging puppy.
"Erm..." It was clearly yarn-based, in some shape or form. Or no shape or form, which would be a more fitting description. It was vaguely oblong, but that's as far as Rimmer was willing to committ, description-of-shape-wise. "I'm not sure what you want me to do with it, exactly."
"Well, d'ye like it?" There was no great leap of the imagination required to envision a tail behind the man, wagging eagerly.
"Do I like it?" Rimmer was taken aback. It was a bit like asking if he liked insulated copper wiring. It didn't seem like the sort of thing to which preference applied.
"Yeah, do ye like it?"
"Do I..." Rimmer shook himself, not wanting to get stuck in an infinite loop of bafflement. "I... did you make this?"
Lister snatched the thing away, seeming almost insulted. "Of course I made it! What d'ye think I've been working on fer the last month?"
Various mental gears and images collided in Rimmers mind, and came up with a chilling conclusion. "You've knitted this?"
Lister rolled his eyes. "No," he said, smoothing the thing out with his hands, "I've stapled it together out of chocolate-wrappers. What do you think?"
Leaning over to get a closer look now that Lister was holding it, protectively, Rimmer frowned, critically. "I don't know; the evidence seems equally in favor of both theories."
"Yeah, yeah!" Lister leered, throwing the contraption over his shoulder. "It's a scarf, see?" He tucked one end around his neck, as if to demonstrate.
Rimmer stared at it. "Well, if function is definition, you're evidently right, Lister. Then again, I've seen you use an old, torn-up shower-curtain as a scarf."
Lister shrugged. "It was raining; it seemed like a good idea."
"Yes, well, that," Rimmer pointed at the so-called scarf, "is not a good idea. I think, Lister, that if you can find a definition anywhere of the opposite of a good idea, it will have a picture of that scarf illustrating it."
That, Rimmer felt, was a nice, final word. All in all, he was rather pleased with it, and considered the conversation over and done with. It surprised him, therefore, when Lister, having turned the thing over and over in his hands, asked "so you don't want it, then?"
"What?"
"Do you not want it?" Lister asked again, simply. Rimmer tried to glare at him, but Lister wasn't looking in the right direction. His eyes were turned towards the viewport window, watching the fake stars, casually.
"You knitted me a scarf?" Lister shrugged, indicating a careless affirmative. Rimmer watched him, his features struggling to work out the signals his artificial brain was giving them. In the end, they gave up, falling apart into one single syllable. "Why?"
Lister shrugged, still turning the thing over, still looking at the stars. "Something to do, yeah?"
"So you knitted me a scarf?"
"Yeah. It was only 'cause I kept coming over the same sort of color, and I thought it might match yer uniform." Lister stretched the garment out, running his fingers over the various stripes of not-quite-red.
"What about the pink?"
Another shrug. "We're in deep space - I work with what I've got."
"Now," Rimmer began, glad to have something to latch onto, "this may have escaped your attention, Lister, but I am, in fact, incorporeal. What the smeg do you expect me to do with a scarf?"
Sighing, Lister let the mostrocity slip from his grasp, getting up. "Never mind, man. I'm gonna go see if I can find Petersen's secret stash of vodka again."
Rimmer watched him go. One of the ever-present skutters, having watched from the corner, clicked its beak in question. Rimmer glared at it, and for a moment, artificial man and machine were locked in a staring contest, before Rimmer yelled "oh, pick it up, then, you mechanical bastard!"
Whirring happily, the skutter wheeled itself over to the scarf, picked it up expertly, and started to head out of the room. Something akin to panic rose in Rimmer.
"Stop!" he shouted, and the skutter turned 'round, its head turned in question.
"Leave it," Rimmer mumbled.
The skutter whirred, confusedly, then moved to drop the scarf on the table. Almost unnoticably, Rimmer shook his head. The skutter moved to the chair. Rimmer shook it again. A little more slowly now, the skutter finally moved towards the bunks, bending its neck down to place the scarf on the bottom bunk. There was an equally subtle nodding. The skutter let the scarf go, and hurried out.
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Very lovely.
Especialy this: "Do you not want it?" Lister asked again, simply. Rimmer tried to glare at him, but Lister wasn't looking in the right direction. His eyes were turned towards the viewport window, watching the fake stars, casually. is extra cute;).
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I've tried to capture that III mellowness. I think it kinda worked. :)
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This is one of my favourite stories ever. It's so subtle and beautiful. The ending is amazing, really loved it!
Also, this -
It was a bit like asking if he liked insulated copper wiring. It didn't seem like the sort of thing to which preference applied.
Is so perfect. Can I be your eternity friend?
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That's probably my favorite sentence in this. Quite pleased with it!
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In retrospect, I think this is very series III-like, which is odd, because I'd imagined it to be IV or V. Maybe it's late III. ;)
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I needs to make an icon, at some point. Thank ye for feeding back!
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It was a bit like asking if he liked insulated copper wiring. It didn't seem like the sort of thing to which preference applied.
*giggle*
Infinite bafflement loop!
Lister wasn't looking in the right direction. His eyes were turned towards the viewport window, watching the fake stars, casually.
Such a subtle and lovely little bit.
Although I love all of the Rimmerness, my favorite bit is how he makes the Skutter guess the right thing to do and has it put on his bunk... by default.
Now I wonder about where it ended up.
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ACK!
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You know, after writing Rimmer's insults about the scarf, I actually started to get vicariously offended.
Now I wonder about where it ended up.
I thought of having him hide it underneath his hologrammatic bedclothes, but I wasn't sure if it would show through them or not. Maybe it wouldn't? In which case, it might still be there.
I'm sorry that your actual story-present is taking forever, btw. I'm working on chapter 5. Lemme know when you want it. :)
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That was lovely, m'dear. Really was. Subtle but lovely.
*poke* More, yes?
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Thank you, dear! I'm glad you read and enjoyed it. :)
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"No," he said, smoothing the thing out with his hands, "I've stapled it together out of chocolate-wrappers."
Hee!
"It was raining; it seemed like a good idea."
Makes sense to me!
It surprised him, therefore, when Lister, having turned the thing over and over in his hands, asked "so you don't want it, then?"
I love how Rimmer's trying so hard to be mean, and Lister's just not getting it. And, of course, he can't resist holding on to it in the end, even though he would never admit it to Lister. Adorable.
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Thank you for the lovely feedback - I'm glad you enjoyed it! :)
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Rimmer shook himself, not wanting to get stuck in an infinite loop of bafflement.
Ha!