Fic: Life Goes On
Apr. 24th, 2013 04:06 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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reddwarfslashFic: Life Goes On
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister (refers to past Lister/Kochanski)
Rating: PG
Summary: Post-series X. The boys finally come across the ship Kochanski left in.
Notes: Thanks to thelaststar for reading this over for me and offering some helpful suggestions. This is my first proper attempt at writing for the Red Dwarf fandom, bar this silly crossover drabble.
“Oh, bloody, buggering, goited, smegging hell,” Rimmer swore as the image he had punched up formed on his screen.
Kryten, who had been contentedly dusting the nooks and crannies of the drive room, paused in his work, “Is something the matter, sir? You seem upset. And just when you’ve started being almost pleasant. Oh please don’t go back to being your old self now.”
“Of course I’m upset, bogbot,” snapped Rimmer, ignoring the dig. Almost pleasant, indeed! He’d always been perfectly pleasant, thank you, and since finding out his true parentage and outsmarting a fleet of simulants, why, he’d been positively delightful - if he did say so himself. Until now, obviously. Now, they had a problem. “Look what the scanners have picked up.”
“But, sir,” Kryten bustled over and peered over the hologram’s shoulder, “What’s the matter? Isn’t that a Blue Midget parked on that asteroid? It might be Ms. Kochanski’s ship.”
Rimmer resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “Of course it’s Kochanski’s ship. Who else would have a Blue Midget out here in the arse-end of space? This is a disaster,” he muttered.
“Baffled mode.” The mechanoid fixed what passed for a puzzled expression on his oddly planed face. “In what way is it a disaster, sir? We’ve found our missing crew member. Mister Lister will be so -“
“Exactly!” Rimmer exploded, “Lister!” He turned to regard Kryten, his hands steepled in front of his chin. “What do you think we’re going to find on that asteroid, Kryten?”
“Well, sir -“
“I’ll tell you what we’ll find. Either Kochanski’s alive, in which case there will be a whole lot of ‘Never leave us again!’, ‘I won’t’, ‘Oh Listy’, ‘Oh Krissie’ smeg, and next thing you know -“
“Really, sir, I think you’re the only who has ever called him -“
Rimmer went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Next thing you know, they’re back to shagging and making each other miserable, and making the rest of us miserable with them. Or else she’s dead, and you know what he was like when he thought she was dead. He’s only just getting out of that rut he was in. Dead or alive, she’ll only make him backslide.”
“If I didn’t know better, sir, I’d almost think you cared about Mister Lister.” Kryten laughed his strange open-mouthed laugh.
“What utter tosh. I just don’t want to have to listen to his moaning.” Rimmer dismissed the ridiculous notion.
“Who’s moanin’?” Lister asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway to the drive room, absently scratching his head. Rimmer leapt to shield the view of the monitor with his body.
“No one, Lister, absolutely no one. Nothing to see here. Why don’t you mosey along and -“
Lister looked unfazed. “It’s my shift, man.” He settled into his usual seat. “What’s that on the screen?” He craned his neck, amused, as Rimmer’s attempts to hide it from him resulted in a funny little dance. When he saw what it was, he sat back heavily. “Smeg,” he choked out, “That’s Blue Midget.” Rimmer winced as he asked the inevitable question. “Is Kochanski on board?”
“Just checking that now, Mister Lister,” Kryten answered, before Rimmer could open his mouth to protest. He pressed a few buttons, and the read-outs began to flood the screen.
“Well, Krytes?” Listed asked, clambering out of his seat to lean over the mechanoid’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Kryten squeaked out, “It’s reading as perfectly safe, but the scanner isn’t picking up any life signs.”
“Oh, eh.” Lister rocked back on his heels, stunned in a way that he probably should not have been, and unable to say any more. All this time, ever since their encounter with the despair squid in the water tanks, he’d been counting on finding Kochanski alive, even though anything could have happened to her in the time she’d been gone. He retreated to his seat, and sat there staring at nothing, Kryten gibbering silently by the read-outs.
Finally, Rimmer’s nasally voice cut through the uncomfortable silence. “Come now, gentlemen, let’s not leap to conclusions. The scanner results don’t prove anything. Are you really going to trust shoddy, three-million-year-old Made-in-Titan junk that gave dodgier results than an online-dating questionnaire even when it was new? Buck up, miladdo. I bet you anything that if we go have a look-see, we’ll find her safe as anything.” He ignored the inner voice that demanded to know what the smeg he was saying, and what had prompted him to spout such utter twaddle. He looked away from Lister’s hopeful eyes, a muscle twitching in his cheek.
“You really think so, man?” He gave a tight, nearly imperceptible nod. Lister grinned. “Y’know what? I think you’re right. I’ll go get the Cat and we’ll suit up and go check it out. Ta, Smeghead.” He gripped Rimmer in a quick one-armed hug, leaving him reeling.
As Lister left the drive room, Rimmer and Kryten were left looking at each other.
“Sir-“
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Kryten,” Rimmer said wearily. “What did you want me to say? ‘Well, looks like your girlfriend’s kicked it for real this time, too bad, so sad’?”
“Actually, sir, that’s exactly what I expected you to say.” He ignored Rimmer’s halfhearted sneer. “Now we have only one problem: What are we going to do in the all too likely case that Ms. Kochanski is indeed dead?” He looked expectantly at the hologram.
Rimmer let out a long breath through flaring nostrils. “I’ve got nothing,” he admitted finally, dropping his forehead to the console with a dull thud.
*****
Nothing was out of place on Blue Midget. There was no sign of a crash, or a struggle of any sort. On the other hand, there was no sign of Kochanski, either.
“I don’t get it,” Lister said to Rimmer, their shoulders bumping, as they searched the small craft for some sign of what had happened. “She packed all her stuff, powered everything down properly, tidied even. It’s like she moved out or something.”
“But moved out to where, Lister?” Rimmer asked, pressing open a door, “I didn’t see any cute cottages as we approached the asteroid, did you? No fancy row of flats? Not even a seedy hotel.”
Lister gave him a look and he shut up. While he’d never lost the urge to be a bastard, especially in stressful situations, this was clearly one of those times that called for him to curb it. He bit his tongue. From Blue Midget’s sleeping quarters, the Cat called out.
“Hey, buds, I think I’ve found something.”
Lister was out of the room in a heartbeat, Rimmer blinking after him for a second before gathering his wits and springing out the door on his heels.
“Hey dudes,” Cat looked up from the strange device he was investigating as they reached the doorway to the miniscule bunkroom. “What do you think this thing does?”
Rimmer swelled with the chance to impart his superior knowledge. He picked up the contraption to examine it, turning it over in his hands. “Clearly, it’s a… a…” Damn, what was it? “A machine that does… something too technical for you to understand, for the purpose of… um…”
Lister interrupted him before he could reveal his ignorance any further, taking the object from his hands. “That’s real helpful, thanks Rimmer.” Rimmer flushed and Lister shook his head at him with a small smile. “I don’t recognize it, either. I could poke around with it, try to find out what it does.”
“Poke around with it? Have you not been electrocuted enough for one lifetime, Lister?”
In a supremely immature gesture, Lister poked his tongue out at him, derailing his train of thought. “Fine, then. We could ask Kryten. He might know.”
“Or we could read the letter,” the Cat cut in, brandishing an envelope marked “Dave” in feminine handwriting.
“There’s a letter?” Rimmer demanded, “Why didn’t you tell us earlier, you gimboid?”
“What, and spoil your chance to look like an idiot?” The Cat grinned his fanged grin as Rimmer’s nostrils flared in annoyance.
“Just give us the letter, Cat.” Lister held out his hand for the envelope, slit it open, then paused, the letter still folded. He swallowed.
“What’s it say, gerbil-cheeks?”
He took a deep breath, began to unfold it, then shook his head and folded it back up again. “I can’t read it.” He thrust the paper at Rimmer, who looked vaguely startled. “You do it. But don’t take the smeg, yeah? I'm trusting you, man.”
“Right.” Rimmer unfolded the paper, cleared his throat several times in succession and began, “’Dear Dave.’”
“Well, that’s a promising start,” the Cat piped up, “Didn’t you get a letter that -”
Rimmer shot the Cat a silencing glare and continued. “’I’m writing to tell you how sorry I am for the way things turned out between us. Maybe I shouldn’t have left without telling you, but I’m sure you understand.’” He raised an eyebrow. “I hope you do, Listy, because I certainly don’t. - ‘I never wanted to hurt you, but I just couldn’t be around you any longer, the way you were. I couldn’t stand by and watch your self-destructive behaviour.
“‘I had to leave, but it was for the best. We both knew that you were never really the man I wanted’ - Well, that’s awfully harsh!”
Lister’s mouth twitched in an unreadable way, whether at Kochanski's words or Rimmer's outburst, Rimmer didn't want to know. “Keep readin’.”
Rimmer swallowed and found his place on the page again. “Right - ‘We both knew that you were never really the man I wanted, but I think deep down we both knew that I wasn’t what you were looking for either. I hope that you‘ve found it now. You deserve to be happy, Dave.'"
Rimmer could feel Lister's assessing gaze on him and fidgeted slightly.
“’I should confess that I had another reason for leaving. I’ve been researching inter-dimensional travel, and I thought that being on my own would give me the focus I needed to calculate my way to my own dimension. I didn’t tell Kryten, because I didn’t know then if it would work, but I’ve done it. I’ve found my way back to my Dave. I’ve found my way home.” Here, the page was distorted in that way that suggested a tear had been shed during the writing. Rimmer ignored the tight feeling in his chest. Kochanski had gone home to her lover at long last. He had merely given up a job he disliked and the silly wig that went with it. Comparing the two was simply ridiculous. He forced his posture straighter, and continued on.
“’The portal will be ready in a minute, so I have to go. I just wanted to say thank you, and I’m sorry.
“’Goodbye, Dave,
“’Love, Kristine.’”
No one said anything for a long moment, even the Cat keeping his mouth shut for once. Rimmer kept his eyes on the paper in his hand, somehow unable to look at Lister while he digested the contents of the letter.
It was Lister who spoke at last, voice scratchier than normal. “Well, then. I guess we’d best get Blue Midget back to the Dwarf. No sense leaving it here.” Rimmer glanced at his face, which was oddly pensive. He considered putting a hand on Lister’s shoulder, but didn’t quite dare.
“Sounds good to me, bud,” the Cat agreed, “but you’ve got to take this one. This outfit goes way better with green.”
Lister’s hand alighted on Rimmer’s shoulder instead, warm and solid. “Guess that means you’re with me. Coming?”
*****
Back on Red Dwarf, Rimmer had insisted on running a full diagnostic on the newly retrieved lander, as well as taking an inventory of its contents for the skutters to return to storage. Therefore, it was several hours later when he entered the bunkroom, to find Lister on the sofa, watching a vid, though somewhat surprisingly, not one of those sappy tear-fests he usually enjoyed so much. The letter was open in his lap.
“Off,” he said, apparently hearing the door open. He turned to greet his bunkmate, patting the seat beside him. “Hey, Rimmer. Come sit down. Everything okay with the Midget?”
He perched on the arm of the sofa. “Oh yes, everything running along tickety-boo. I’ll say that much for Kochanski, she knew how to take care of a ship.” He stopped abruptly, cursing himself. “That is - Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up.” Rimmer licked his lips, feeling awkward, and forcibly curbed the instinct to say something bastardly. Lister didn't look mad, that was something. Instead, he seemed to be studying him with something almost soft in his eyes, and what that could mean didn't bear thinking about. “Look, Listy, are you doing okay?” he barreled on, before Lister could answer. “Because I want you to know, I am sorry you didn’t get her back. I know what she means to you.”
Lister shrugged. “I’m alright, man.”
“Really? Are you sure” He didn’t sound like he’d been drinking, so maybe it was true.
“Really. I’m okay, guy.” His smile was small, but it was a genuine Lister smile. “She’s safe, and happy. How can I be bitter, knowing she’s got what she wanted, yanno?”
“I could be.”
“Yeah, but you’re a smeghead,” Lister’s tone was fond, and his smile was bigger this time. “She’s home. We’re home. I’ve got nothing to complain about.” He turned to face Rimmer more fully and cleared his throat. “I just want to say, thanks, man.”
“For what?”
“For caring and smeg. For worrying about me.”
“I - that is -” Rimmer turned an interesting shade of red. “But you’re really okay?”
He held up his hands. “I’m really okay. I swear.”
“Good.” He was back on comfortable ground. “Then I don’t have to feel bad for telling you that I’m not sad she’s gone. She was all wrong for you, you know.”
Lister gave him a look that he didn’t dare interpret, smirky and something else he couldn’t put his finger on. “And who would you say is right for me, Rimmer? You?” He raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Rimmer spluttered. “No! I didn’t mean - I didn’t say that!” Had he implied it? He must have. He contemplated shoving his fist in his mouth. Lister’s eyes were twinkling. He was laughing at him, the goit! He felt like his face was on fire.
Lister stopped laughing, but his voice was warm as he changed tacks. “Relax, Rimmer.” After a moment's hesitation, he took one of his hands gently. “You wouldn’t be wrong.”
“What?” Rimmer’s hand trembled in Lister’s as he protested, but he didn’t pull away, which Lister took as a good sign. “Lister, a few hours ago you were still hoping to find Kochanski, the love of your life -“
“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she wasn't the love of my life,” Lister said quietly. He chewed on his lip for a moment, then continued, “I’ve been thinking, yeah, about what she said, that she wasn’t what I was looking for. And she was right, I'm man enough to admit that, now. And I wondered if maybe I've been lying to myself about other things. So I’ve been thinking about what I am looking for, and about home and stuff, and what I need to be happy, and, well, it's been a long time coming, and I'm probably a complete bastard for not figuring it out sooner, but,” he fidgeted for a long moment, then took a deep breath and squeezed Rimmer’s hand, meeting his eyes squarely, “I think you’re it.”
“Me?” Rimmer pointed to himself with his free hand for clarity. “You need me to be happy? Me, Rimsy? The smeghead?” Lister nodded and tugged him down, so they were sitting side by side.
He rubbed his thumb slowly over the back of the hologram’s hand. “Yeah. You. If that’s what you want.”
“Listy -” Rimmer’s voice was barely a whisper, but he leaned into the strong brown hand that cupped his chin, and let Lister draw him forward into a kiss. The kiss was gentle, just a slow slide of lips against lips, but his simulated breath was still sped up when Lister pulled away with a tiny nibble to his bottom lip.
“So, what do you say?” Lister asked, his fingertips trailing warmth down the side of Rimmer’s neck. “Life goes on, eh? This, you and me, it could be something good.”
It could, Rimmer agreed, but didn’t bother to answer, as his mouth had already found Lister’s, making words unnecessary.
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister (refers to past Lister/Kochanski)
Rating: PG
Summary: Post-series X. The boys finally come across the ship Kochanski left in.
Notes: Thanks to thelaststar for reading this over for me and offering some helpful suggestions. This is my first proper attempt at writing for the Red Dwarf fandom, bar this silly crossover drabble.
“Oh, bloody, buggering, goited, smegging hell,” Rimmer swore as the image he had punched up formed on his screen.
Kryten, who had been contentedly dusting the nooks and crannies of the drive room, paused in his work, “Is something the matter, sir? You seem upset. And just when you’ve started being almost pleasant. Oh please don’t go back to being your old self now.”
“Of course I’m upset, bogbot,” snapped Rimmer, ignoring the dig. Almost pleasant, indeed! He’d always been perfectly pleasant, thank you, and since finding out his true parentage and outsmarting a fleet of simulants, why, he’d been positively delightful - if he did say so himself. Until now, obviously. Now, they had a problem. “Look what the scanners have picked up.”
“But, sir,” Kryten bustled over and peered over the hologram’s shoulder, “What’s the matter? Isn’t that a Blue Midget parked on that asteroid? It might be Ms. Kochanski’s ship.”
Rimmer resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “Of course it’s Kochanski’s ship. Who else would have a Blue Midget out here in the arse-end of space? This is a disaster,” he muttered.
“Baffled mode.” The mechanoid fixed what passed for a puzzled expression on his oddly planed face. “In what way is it a disaster, sir? We’ve found our missing crew member. Mister Lister will be so -“
“Exactly!” Rimmer exploded, “Lister!” He turned to regard Kryten, his hands steepled in front of his chin. “What do you think we’re going to find on that asteroid, Kryten?”
“Well, sir -“
“I’ll tell you what we’ll find. Either Kochanski’s alive, in which case there will be a whole lot of ‘Never leave us again!’, ‘I won’t’, ‘Oh Listy’, ‘Oh Krissie’ smeg, and next thing you know -“
“Really, sir, I think you’re the only who has ever called him -“
Rimmer went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Next thing you know, they’re back to shagging and making each other miserable, and making the rest of us miserable with them. Or else she’s dead, and you know what he was like when he thought she was dead. He’s only just getting out of that rut he was in. Dead or alive, she’ll only make him backslide.”
“If I didn’t know better, sir, I’d almost think you cared about Mister Lister.” Kryten laughed his strange open-mouthed laugh.
“What utter tosh. I just don’t want to have to listen to his moaning.” Rimmer dismissed the ridiculous notion.
“Who’s moanin’?” Lister asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway to the drive room, absently scratching his head. Rimmer leapt to shield the view of the monitor with his body.
“No one, Lister, absolutely no one. Nothing to see here. Why don’t you mosey along and -“
Lister looked unfazed. “It’s my shift, man.” He settled into his usual seat. “What’s that on the screen?” He craned his neck, amused, as Rimmer’s attempts to hide it from him resulted in a funny little dance. When he saw what it was, he sat back heavily. “Smeg,” he choked out, “That’s Blue Midget.” Rimmer winced as he asked the inevitable question. “Is Kochanski on board?”
“Just checking that now, Mister Lister,” Kryten answered, before Rimmer could open his mouth to protest. He pressed a few buttons, and the read-outs began to flood the screen.
“Well, Krytes?” Listed asked, clambering out of his seat to lean over the mechanoid’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Kryten squeaked out, “It’s reading as perfectly safe, but the scanner isn’t picking up any life signs.”
“Oh, eh.” Lister rocked back on his heels, stunned in a way that he probably should not have been, and unable to say any more. All this time, ever since their encounter with the despair squid in the water tanks, he’d been counting on finding Kochanski alive, even though anything could have happened to her in the time she’d been gone. He retreated to his seat, and sat there staring at nothing, Kryten gibbering silently by the read-outs.
Finally, Rimmer’s nasally voice cut through the uncomfortable silence. “Come now, gentlemen, let’s not leap to conclusions. The scanner results don’t prove anything. Are you really going to trust shoddy, three-million-year-old Made-in-Titan junk that gave dodgier results than an online-dating questionnaire even when it was new? Buck up, miladdo. I bet you anything that if we go have a look-see, we’ll find her safe as anything.” He ignored the inner voice that demanded to know what the smeg he was saying, and what had prompted him to spout such utter twaddle. He looked away from Lister’s hopeful eyes, a muscle twitching in his cheek.
“You really think so, man?” He gave a tight, nearly imperceptible nod. Lister grinned. “Y’know what? I think you’re right. I’ll go get the Cat and we’ll suit up and go check it out. Ta, Smeghead.” He gripped Rimmer in a quick one-armed hug, leaving him reeling.
As Lister left the drive room, Rimmer and Kryten were left looking at each other.
“Sir-“
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Kryten,” Rimmer said wearily. “What did you want me to say? ‘Well, looks like your girlfriend’s kicked it for real this time, too bad, so sad’?”
“Actually, sir, that’s exactly what I expected you to say.” He ignored Rimmer’s halfhearted sneer. “Now we have only one problem: What are we going to do in the all too likely case that Ms. Kochanski is indeed dead?” He looked expectantly at the hologram.
Rimmer let out a long breath through flaring nostrils. “I’ve got nothing,” he admitted finally, dropping his forehead to the console with a dull thud.
*****
Nothing was out of place on Blue Midget. There was no sign of a crash, or a struggle of any sort. On the other hand, there was no sign of Kochanski, either.
“I don’t get it,” Lister said to Rimmer, their shoulders bumping, as they searched the small craft for some sign of what had happened. “She packed all her stuff, powered everything down properly, tidied even. It’s like she moved out or something.”
“But moved out to where, Lister?” Rimmer asked, pressing open a door, “I didn’t see any cute cottages as we approached the asteroid, did you? No fancy row of flats? Not even a seedy hotel.”
Lister gave him a look and he shut up. While he’d never lost the urge to be a bastard, especially in stressful situations, this was clearly one of those times that called for him to curb it. He bit his tongue. From Blue Midget’s sleeping quarters, the Cat called out.
“Hey, buds, I think I’ve found something.”
Lister was out of the room in a heartbeat, Rimmer blinking after him for a second before gathering his wits and springing out the door on his heels.
“Hey dudes,” Cat looked up from the strange device he was investigating as they reached the doorway to the miniscule bunkroom. “What do you think this thing does?”
Rimmer swelled with the chance to impart his superior knowledge. He picked up the contraption to examine it, turning it over in his hands. “Clearly, it’s a… a…” Damn, what was it? “A machine that does… something too technical for you to understand, for the purpose of… um…”
Lister interrupted him before he could reveal his ignorance any further, taking the object from his hands. “That’s real helpful, thanks Rimmer.” Rimmer flushed and Lister shook his head at him with a small smile. “I don’t recognize it, either. I could poke around with it, try to find out what it does.”
“Poke around with it? Have you not been electrocuted enough for one lifetime, Lister?”
In a supremely immature gesture, Lister poked his tongue out at him, derailing his train of thought. “Fine, then. We could ask Kryten. He might know.”
“Or we could read the letter,” the Cat cut in, brandishing an envelope marked “Dave” in feminine handwriting.
“There’s a letter?” Rimmer demanded, “Why didn’t you tell us earlier, you gimboid?”
“What, and spoil your chance to look like an idiot?” The Cat grinned his fanged grin as Rimmer’s nostrils flared in annoyance.
“Just give us the letter, Cat.” Lister held out his hand for the envelope, slit it open, then paused, the letter still folded. He swallowed.
“What’s it say, gerbil-cheeks?”
He took a deep breath, began to unfold it, then shook his head and folded it back up again. “I can’t read it.” He thrust the paper at Rimmer, who looked vaguely startled. “You do it. But don’t take the smeg, yeah? I'm trusting you, man.”
“Right.” Rimmer unfolded the paper, cleared his throat several times in succession and began, “’Dear Dave.’”
“Well, that’s a promising start,” the Cat piped up, “Didn’t you get a letter that -”
Rimmer shot the Cat a silencing glare and continued. “’I’m writing to tell you how sorry I am for the way things turned out between us. Maybe I shouldn’t have left without telling you, but I’m sure you understand.’” He raised an eyebrow. “I hope you do, Listy, because I certainly don’t. - ‘I never wanted to hurt you, but I just couldn’t be around you any longer, the way you were. I couldn’t stand by and watch your self-destructive behaviour.
“‘I had to leave, but it was for the best. We both knew that you were never really the man I wanted’ - Well, that’s awfully harsh!”
Lister’s mouth twitched in an unreadable way, whether at Kochanski's words or Rimmer's outburst, Rimmer didn't want to know. “Keep readin’.”
Rimmer swallowed and found his place on the page again. “Right - ‘We both knew that you were never really the man I wanted, but I think deep down we both knew that I wasn’t what you were looking for either. I hope that you‘ve found it now. You deserve to be happy, Dave.'"
Rimmer could feel Lister's assessing gaze on him and fidgeted slightly.
“’I should confess that I had another reason for leaving. I’ve been researching inter-dimensional travel, and I thought that being on my own would give me the focus I needed to calculate my way to my own dimension. I didn’t tell Kryten, because I didn’t know then if it would work, but I’ve done it. I’ve found my way back to my Dave. I’ve found my way home.” Here, the page was distorted in that way that suggested a tear had been shed during the writing. Rimmer ignored the tight feeling in his chest. Kochanski had gone home to her lover at long last. He had merely given up a job he disliked and the silly wig that went with it. Comparing the two was simply ridiculous. He forced his posture straighter, and continued on.
“’The portal will be ready in a minute, so I have to go. I just wanted to say thank you, and I’m sorry.
“’Goodbye, Dave,
“’Love, Kristine.’”
No one said anything for a long moment, even the Cat keeping his mouth shut for once. Rimmer kept his eyes on the paper in his hand, somehow unable to look at Lister while he digested the contents of the letter.
It was Lister who spoke at last, voice scratchier than normal. “Well, then. I guess we’d best get Blue Midget back to the Dwarf. No sense leaving it here.” Rimmer glanced at his face, which was oddly pensive. He considered putting a hand on Lister’s shoulder, but didn’t quite dare.
“Sounds good to me, bud,” the Cat agreed, “but you’ve got to take this one. This outfit goes way better with green.”
Lister’s hand alighted on Rimmer’s shoulder instead, warm and solid. “Guess that means you’re with me. Coming?”
*****
Back on Red Dwarf, Rimmer had insisted on running a full diagnostic on the newly retrieved lander, as well as taking an inventory of its contents for the skutters to return to storage. Therefore, it was several hours later when he entered the bunkroom, to find Lister on the sofa, watching a vid, though somewhat surprisingly, not one of those sappy tear-fests he usually enjoyed so much. The letter was open in his lap.
“Off,” he said, apparently hearing the door open. He turned to greet his bunkmate, patting the seat beside him. “Hey, Rimmer. Come sit down. Everything okay with the Midget?”
He perched on the arm of the sofa. “Oh yes, everything running along tickety-boo. I’ll say that much for Kochanski, she knew how to take care of a ship.” He stopped abruptly, cursing himself. “That is - Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up.” Rimmer licked his lips, feeling awkward, and forcibly curbed the instinct to say something bastardly. Lister didn't look mad, that was something. Instead, he seemed to be studying him with something almost soft in his eyes, and what that could mean didn't bear thinking about. “Look, Listy, are you doing okay?” he barreled on, before Lister could answer. “Because I want you to know, I am sorry you didn’t get her back. I know what she means to you.”
Lister shrugged. “I’m alright, man.”
“Really? Are you sure” He didn’t sound like he’d been drinking, so maybe it was true.
“Really. I’m okay, guy.” His smile was small, but it was a genuine Lister smile. “She’s safe, and happy. How can I be bitter, knowing she’s got what she wanted, yanno?”
“I could be.”
“Yeah, but you’re a smeghead,” Lister’s tone was fond, and his smile was bigger this time. “She’s home. We’re home. I’ve got nothing to complain about.” He turned to face Rimmer more fully and cleared his throat. “I just want to say, thanks, man.”
“For what?”
“For caring and smeg. For worrying about me.”
“I - that is -” Rimmer turned an interesting shade of red. “But you’re really okay?”
He held up his hands. “I’m really okay. I swear.”
“Good.” He was back on comfortable ground. “Then I don’t have to feel bad for telling you that I’m not sad she’s gone. She was all wrong for you, you know.”
Lister gave him a look that he didn’t dare interpret, smirky and something else he couldn’t put his finger on. “And who would you say is right for me, Rimmer? You?” He raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Rimmer spluttered. “No! I didn’t mean - I didn’t say that!” Had he implied it? He must have. He contemplated shoving his fist in his mouth. Lister’s eyes were twinkling. He was laughing at him, the goit! He felt like his face was on fire.
Lister stopped laughing, but his voice was warm as he changed tacks. “Relax, Rimmer.” After a moment's hesitation, he took one of his hands gently. “You wouldn’t be wrong.”
“What?” Rimmer’s hand trembled in Lister’s as he protested, but he didn’t pull away, which Lister took as a good sign. “Lister, a few hours ago you were still hoping to find Kochanski, the love of your life -“
“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she wasn't the love of my life,” Lister said quietly. He chewed on his lip for a moment, then continued, “I’ve been thinking, yeah, about what she said, that she wasn’t what I was looking for. And she was right, I'm man enough to admit that, now. And I wondered if maybe I've been lying to myself about other things. So I’ve been thinking about what I am looking for, and about home and stuff, and what I need to be happy, and, well, it's been a long time coming, and I'm probably a complete bastard for not figuring it out sooner, but,” he fidgeted for a long moment, then took a deep breath and squeezed Rimmer’s hand, meeting his eyes squarely, “I think you’re it.”
“Me?” Rimmer pointed to himself with his free hand for clarity. “You need me to be happy? Me, Rimsy? The smeghead?” Lister nodded and tugged him down, so they were sitting side by side.
He rubbed his thumb slowly over the back of the hologram’s hand. “Yeah. You. If that’s what you want.”
“Listy -” Rimmer’s voice was barely a whisper, but he leaned into the strong brown hand that cupped his chin, and let Lister draw him forward into a kiss. The kiss was gentle, just a slow slide of lips against lips, but his simulated breath was still sped up when Lister pulled away with a tiny nibble to his bottom lip.
“So, what do you say?” Lister asked, his fingertips trailing warmth down the side of Rimmer’s neck. “Life goes on, eh? This, you and me, it could be something good.”
It could, Rimmer agreed, but didn’t bother to answer, as his mouth had already found Lister’s, making words unnecessary.
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Date: 2013-04-24 10:03 pm (UTC)I've toyed with the idea of Lister finding a note from Kochanski and it giving him the impetus to get over her and start thinking of Rimmer instead, but hadn't developed it into a fic. I'm glad someone else did. :)
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Date: 2013-04-25 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-04-24 10:15 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2013-04-25 01:22 am (UTC)Well done!
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Date: 2013-04-25 03:31 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2013-04-26 08:43 pm (UTC)