reddwarfslash | Double Trouble

And some more!

Double Trouble – Part 4

Rimmer was still in bed the next morning when Lister wandered into his sleeping quarters. He yanked the covers up to his chest indignantly, horribly aware of his naked lower half, “Don’t you ever knock, you disgusting inbred little maggot?!”

“Good morning, Rimmer,” Lister ignored the insult and sat down on the side of the bed.
“It can’t be morning if you’re awake and dressed,” Rimmer sniped, wondering frantically if there was any possibility at all that Lister might secretly possess x-ray vision which would allow him to see through his blanket, “Early afternoon perhaps.”

“I wanted to talk to you before everyone else is around,” Lister said, “I wanted to ask what happened yesterday with you and...you. Him. Whatever.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what did you talk about?”

“Nothing,” Rimmer said, feeling panic rising inside him, “Why does it matter?”

“I just want to know how things stand, that’s all. If you found out anything that might help with this situation.”

“Situation?” Rimmer asked, his heart pounding.

“Well, we can’t go on like this with him hiding in his room throwing poisonous looks at anyone who comes near.”

“Oh,” Rimmer relaxed, “I see what you mean.”

“So...?”

Rimmer fidgeted. How much could he tell Lister about what had been said between him and his double yesterday? How would he even begin explaining it? How did you tell someone that you – well, not you but another version of you – hated them with a burning passion because you were frighteningly head-over-heels in love with them? It made no sense. And if he told Lister about the double’s feelings for him would he then be exposing himself as well? Would he even be telling Lister anything that he didn’t already know?

“I think,” Rimmer said cautiously, “That the best thing you can do to help is to keep your distance.”

“Distance? On this ship?”

“Trust me on this one, Listy. This man doesn’t want to be your friend.” That at least was true.
“Look, if you two spent all day yesterday holding a special meeting of the ‘We Hate Lister Club’ then fine. It doesn’t bother me one bit. I’m glad you have something in common,” Lister said tetchily, “But one way or another we all have to learn to live with each other. We can’t spend the next three million years ‘keeping our distance’. It just won’t work.”

“It’s always worked for us,” Rimmer said coldly. To his surprise –and satisfaction – he saw a look of what seemed to be genuine hurt on Lister’s face. “Fine,” he said shortly, standing up, “I’ll go and keep my distance in the cockpit then and leave you alone.”

“Marvellous,” Rimmer replied, “And remember to knock next time!” Lister glared at him and rapped sharply on the door on his way out. “Goit,” Rimmer said out of habit, then lay back and stared at the ceiling.

It was hardly his problem if Lister didn’t want to take his advice, was it? Keeping away from the new Rimmer probably was the best thing he could do in the circumstances. Any attempt at kindness would only fuel the wretched man’s resentment. And why was Lister so keen to be best buddies with his double anyway? When had he ever shown this much interest in improving their relationship? His paranoia shifted up another gear. Maybe Lister did know how Rimmer felt about him. Maybe the knowledge that Rimmer had these...feelings...was the reason he’d never felt the need to put this kind of effort in. But now there was a new boy in town who apparently didn’t worship the ground he walked on, Lister didn’t like that. It wasn’t enough that he had one Rimmer who cared about him – oh no – David Lister had to have two, the self-centred little worm.

He banged on the door to his double’s room and pushed his way in when the man opened the hatchway. “You were right,” he said desperately, stumbling into the spartan quarters, “You were right about everything!”

“Of course,” the double retorted, “I don’t know why you ever bothered denying it.”

“I never realised how manipulative he was,” Rimmer paced the room, “There are so many things that make sense now. All these years he was exploiting these emotions that I didn’t even know I had! I’ve been such a fool.” His double smiled cynically, as if he’d seen this all before, “But I bet you still want him, don’t you?” Rimmer cradled his head in his hands. Lister. Wanting Lister. The very idea of it still seemed alien to him but then he thought of his dream. That warm body pressed against his. Those brown eyes looking at him – him – with desire. Yes, he wanted that and everything that came with it. “Yes,” he said weakly, “I do.”

“It’s okay,” his double walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, “Even after everything he’s done to me, so do I.”

“He came into my room this morning,” Rimmer said glumly, “He had the nerve to ask me how he could make you like him.” His double laughed and it wasn’t a pleasant sound, “Classic Lister, isn’t it? ‘I just want everyone to be happy and friends and for us all to dance round with cute little forest animals!’ What he really wants is attention and it’s never smegging enough, is it? He won’t be happy until we all fawn over him as sickeningly as that stupid mech-head.”

“You know I’ve always thought there was something odd about that robot’s fixation with Lister,” Rimmer said darkly.

“It’s not odd,” the double said matter-of-factly, “Who do you think programmed him to act that way?”

“What?” Rimmer’s initial reaction was disbelief but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. After all, who was it who had insisted on rebuilding the blasted bog-bot in the first place? Who had put all the pieces together and tightened all the screws? Lister had. It wouldn’t have taken much to leave a few of the right screws loose, would it? Et Voila, one android with a Lister fetish. “That’s sick,” Rimmer exclaimed. “No,” his double shrugged, “That’s Lister.”

“Here’s your breakfast, Sir,” Kryten handed Lister the triple fried-egg, chilli, chutney sandwich with some caution. “Be careful not to get your sleeve in it again, I haven’t finished darning the burn-hole the last one left in your other shirt yet.”

“Cheers, Kryten,” Lister picked at the crust and tried not to think about his squabble with Rimmer. It was obvious what had happened. The two Rimmers had obviously had fun yesterday discussing all the finer points of exactly what was so awful and ghastly about Mr David Lister, Esq with the result that he now had two Rimmers ganging up on him rather than one Rimmer who might, every now and then, when left to his own devices, be willing to play nicely. What a great plan. He should never have encouraged the two of them to spend time together.

He heard the chime of boots coming down the metal staircase and looked up to see the Rimmers. It was odd, but even though they were utterly identical, even though they were effectively the same person, he could still tell at a glance which one was his. Something about the eyes...

“Lister,” they said together in a cold clipped tone, nodding to him.

“Smegheads,” he returned the greeting and went back to his sandwich. Rimmer narrowed his eyes. That was so like Lister. This morning with nobody else around he’d been so ready to play at being friends, but now that Captain Plunger was present it was a different story.

The Cat’s voice rang out from the cockpit. “I’m getting something! It’s not up on the screens yet but I can smell it!” Lister dropped his breakfast and ran to join him, “What are you getting, man?”

“Not sure yet,” Cat sniffed the air, “But it’s big.”

“A meteor?” Lister asked anxiously.

“Your backside?” Rimmer asked innocuously behind him. Lister spun round and was presented with two identical smirks. He realised with growing frustration that he didn’t know which of them had even made the remark. “Is that all you’re going to do? Stand there and make stupid little quips when we could all be in danger here?”

“Oh, please,” the new Rimmer rolled his eyes, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’d have thought you of all people would know the answer to that,” Lister told him icily. The double met his glare head on, “Well, you and Mittens the Kitten seem to have everything under control. There’s nothing even showing on the scanners yet.”

“Doesn’t that sound familiar?” Lister retorted.

“What did he just call me?” Cat interjected, baring his teeth. Lister held up a hand to pacify Cat but to his surprise it was Rimmer who stepped in. “Come on, Duke. Let’s get something to eat and leave the Dynamic Duo to puzzle it out. Maybe with the help of Toilet-Bot they can actually solve this mystery on their own.” The two Rimmers retreated back to the mid-section.

Lister went to his seat and started to push some buttons with more force than was entirely necessary, “Just what we need,” he said through gritted teeth, “Git in Surround Sound,”

“Tell me about it,” Cat replied, “There’s something about the combination of those two that smells worse than three-day-dead dog,”

“What are we going to do, man? We can’t all go on like this.”

“Don’t let them rattle you, buddy. That’s what they want.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s working.”

“I know. I can smell it.”

Lister grinned despite himself; it was fun sometimes having a feline friend,

“What else can you smell?” Cat turned and looked at him and his expression took Lister by surprise with its seriousness. “I can smell that he’s lying about what happened on that ship he came from.” The smile disappeared abruptly from Lister’s face. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

“Buddy, you know I’m sure. Whatever hit that ship, I would have smelt it coming, man, you know that.”

Lister stared out of the view-screen at the stars and felt his heart sinking. He’d had doubts about their newcomer’s story but hadn’t wanted to consider the alternative if he was lying. “So what do we do?” he sighed, not really expecting any reply.

“I don’t know,” Cat said, “But I got a bad feeling about that guy. And I think you need to be careful.”

“Why me?”

“Because the way that Grease-Stain smells when he gets near you,” Cat pulled a face, “That’s not like anything else I’ve ever smelt before and believe me it is not good.”