Double Trouble - Part 10

[felineranger.livejournal.com]

 

Double Trouble - Part 10

 

 

 

            Lister heard the clang of footsteps approaching on the metal floor and looked up. Sure enough, Rimmer’s double had joined him from the cockpit. Lister tensed, expecting some kind of nasty quip, or maybe even a sharp kick in the ribs, but the man seemed edgy and preoccupied. 

            He knelt down beside him and reached into his pocket. Lister flinched back uncertainly but was surprised when the double produced a clean handkerchief from his pocket and started to gently wipe away the blood from his head-wound. “Nasty blow,” he said sympathetically, as if he hadn’t been the one to inflict it. “It must be painful. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt for long.”  He continued to clean the blood from his face and neck with careful, tentative strokes. “The Branson disappeared from our long-range scanners about ten minutes ago,” he informed him quietly, “I wonder if they’ve realised yet that we’re gone. They don’t seem to be in pursuit just yet.”

Yeah, I get the message, Lister thought bitterly. The cavalry aren’t on their way.  Fantastic. “My counterpart must have done a good job of keeping them off the scent,” the double added. Lister’s heart skipped a beat. Rimmer had known about this? He’d sent him off to meet his double, knowing what was going to happen? When he’d told Lister so coldly that he wanted him out of his life, had he really meant it this literally?  

             The double tossed aside the sodden, bloody handkerchief and then, to Lister’s surprise, started to lightly stroke the back of his neck.  He froze. If this was meant to be reassuring, it wasn’t working. It just made his skin crawl. He felt hard-light fingertips move softly through his hair and regardless of the pain in his arms, he tried to squirm away. Rimmer narrowed his eyes, “You don’t like that? Well, how about this?” He suddenly gripped the soft skin at the back of Lister’s neck hard between two fingers and pinched. Lister yelped and flinched, sending another bolt of pain through his arms and shoulders. “Now you know what it’s like to be in my power for once,” the double hissed petulantly, “And you’d better get used to it. You’re not running this show anymore, miladdo.” 

            He released him and Lister breathed deeply to try and calm himself. That had hurt. The double seemed to be trying to compose himself as well. “This is your own fault, you know,” he snapped, “I’m a reasonable man, for smeg’s sake, but you just always have to make things hard, don’t you?” 

            Lister twisted his head round to face him, asking the question with his eyes. Why are you doing this? Rimmer’s lip curled up angrily, “Don’t pretend you didn’t have this coming! Did you think you could have it your way forever?” Lister tentatively shook his head; I don’t understand.

“Don’t play the innocent with me!” the double shouted, furious suddenly, “You think you can squirm your way out of this by acting like you don’t know what’s going on here? It’s not going to work, Squire.” He moved his face closer to Lister’s. “It’s just you and me now, you see?  So there’ll be no more games. No more playing with my emotions as it suits you, no more being kind to me when you want an ego boost and then humiliating me when your other friends are watching. You’re my plaything now, not the other way round. And I’m going to show you that my love is not a game.” 

 

 

            Rimmer headed down the stairs to the transport bay, after finally agreeing with the others that it was time to start looking for their absent companions. He hadn’t let on that he knew where they’d be; he wanted to be the first person who knew what was going on. His main worry was that his double might have let slip that he wasn’t the only person on Starbug who had feelings for Lister, and if that had happened then he definitely wanted to make sure that he found them before either Cat or Kryten did.

Emotionally, he was torn between desperately wanting to know how the confrontation had gone and mounting anxiety over whether or not his double had kept his word and left Rimmer’s involvement in this love triangle out of the mix. Either way he was going to be interrupting what was already, no doubt, an extremely awkward moment. But he’d given them long enough, surely? They must be over the worst of it by now. They’d obviously just lost track of time. Lister’s punctuality had always been poor and his double obviously had bigger concerns than getting back to Starbug in time for tea. And Rimmer was well aware that this wasn’t a situation that was going to be solved quickly over a friendly chat and a nice cup of Rosie Lee.

            When he reached the airlock for the transport bay, he peered through the plexi-glass to try and gauge the situation before he went ploughing in. Frustratingly, he couldn’t see either Lister or his double. He was even more frustrated when he realised on entering the bay that they actually weren’t there anymore. They must have already started heading back to Starbug by another route and he’d missed them. Damn, damn and damn once more. That meant they were probably going to make it back before him and whatever had gone down here this afternoon he’d be the last smegging one to know!

            He took a deep breath to calm himself. This wasn’t necessarily a big deal. It could well be that his double had kept his secret, that he and Lister had discussed the matter in a perfectly reasonable and civilised way and that nothing more now needed to be said about this by anyone, anywhere, ever. They’d think up a rational explanation for their lateness and nobody need ever know what had happened here. Or his double could have spilled the whole story, the pair of them could have had an almighty row and Lister could at this very moment be demanding that both those creepy dead perverts be switched off permanently. He took another deep breath and sniffed the air. It smelt like exhaust in here. That would have been understandable but this smelt fresh. Like burning fuel just after take-off.

            Suddenly he realised there were only three little red transporters lined up against the wall. He was certain that his double had told him there were four of those craft down here, because he said he’d tried them all and only two of them were still working - and one of those only just. So where was Number Four, the working ship? A cold dread started to spread through Rimmer’s being. Oh God. It couldn’t be. It was just impossible. He bit down on his fist in anguished dismay. 

            The bastards had run away together! His smeggy double had actually managed to seduce Lister and talk him into flying off into the sunset leaving the rest of them behind! Rimmer ran over to the empty parking space and now he could even see the burn marks the jets had left on the ground when they took off. He looked around frantically as if the missing craft might be hiding somewhere but it was gone. Gone, gone, gone and Lister with it. Oh, why had he let his double come down here in the first place? Why had he encouraged this meeting? Why had he so naively played along, even playing matchmaker and sending Lister along to this little tryst? What had he done?

            As he stood there, clutching frantically at his wiry curls and wondering what the smegging smeg he was supposed to do now – how was he supposed to explain this to Cat and Kryten? – he caught sight of something on the ground a few feet away. He walked over and scooped it up. It was a radio. Or at least, it had been. The thing had been destroyed beyond all repair. Rimmer stared at it, and suddenly all the panic and betrayal he’d been feeling just seconds ago started to disappear to be replaced with something else. A dark, terrible sensation of dread. 

            ...Last night he practically threatened me...The guy’s rotten. All wrong... I think it’s about time that we put an end to all this, don’t you?...Don’t you want closure?... I’ll make him pay...I swear one day I am going to make him pay...

            He froze to the spot, breathing deeply. An alternative explanation was starting to take form in his head but he didn’t want to acknowledge it.   He found himself praying that it was just his cursed stupidity; that he could rely on his never-ending talent of getting things wrong. For once in his life, Rimmer did not want to be right. Not about this.  

            And then he saw the blood. There wasn’t much of it. Just a small crimson smudge on the dusty floor.  But it was enough to make Rimmer drop the radio and start running.

 

            Kryten hovered impatiently by the airlock to Starbug, waiting for the others to rejoin him. A screeched instruction from Rimmer across the radio had sent him hurrying back to the ship and now his anxiety chip was thrumming like a Rampant Rabbit belonging to a nympho stranded on a desert island. It didn’t take much to send Mister Rimmer into a flap, but on this occasion, Kryten was worried that there might well be a valid reason.

            Rimmer met Cat at the corridor junction, both of them panting and out of breath. “Come on!” Rimmer grabbed his arm and dragged him along, “We have to get moving!”

“Get off my jacket, Grease-Stain! What the hell’s going on?”

“Move, damn you! Lister’s in trouble! Serious trouble! There’s no time to lose!”

“Is this because of your slimy sidekick?” Cat snarled, as he ran alongside him.

“Yes,” Rimmer admitted reluctantly, “I think so.”

“Goddammit, Goal-Post Head! You said he wasn’t going to hurt him!”

“I have a horrible feeling,” Rimmer panted, “That I may have been wrong.”

Comments

[dauphkantus.livejournal.com]

Oh finally, now he catches on! God, I'd been getting the creepy crawlie bawlies on this well-written evil deception.

[tsukinobun.livejournal.com]

"And I'm going to show you that my love is not a game"
ooooooh. tingles! :)

"The bastards had run away together!"
oh, the plot bunnies this spawns...:)

Oh, Rimsy, you'd better get to him before anything too horrible happens or I'll never forgive you!