laurenthemself: Rainbow rose with words 'love as thou wilt' below in white lettering (Default)
[personal profile] laurenthemself posting in [community profile] reddwarfslash
(Just a note: I haven't written RD fic since December 2004, and it probably shows.)

Forty Days

Princess Lauren

M

HRS

This story is part of the cycle that includes the following stories: Krissie Kringle, Red is the Colour that I Like the Best, Christmas Spirits, and Appropriate Consequences. This one's an Easter fic. Contains (maybe) everyone's my favourite f/f/m pairing, Holly/Kochanski/Rimmer (female Holly has a hologrammatic body, in case you didn't want to read the earlier stories). Set in Season Eight between Cassandra and Only the Good... The trio vow to give up sex for Lent... but will they make it the full forty days?

Red Dwarf characters belong to the BBC and Grant Naylor Productions. (I have totally missed being able to type those words.)

Dedicated to the RDSS and Alphonse the (Easter) plotbunny.




Day One

'What day exactly does this last until?' Rimmer stood in front of the calendar with a big black texta, waiting for Holly to reply.

'Saturday April eighth. I mean, it's possibly Thursday April thirteenth, I think, because some churches don't count Sundays, and some do, and I know of one church that makes it fifty days-–'

'That's Pentecost,' Kochanski interjected.

'Oh, yes, of course. Anyway, it depends on the church.'

'Call it the eighth. At the end of the day, or the start of the day?'

'End,' Holly said. 'That at least seems to be fairly consistent.'

Rimmer sighed and circled the ninth of April. 'So this is when we can go back to having sex. Remind me why we're doing this, again?'

'Because it's important to try and keep some of the old traditions alive,' Kochanski said primly. 'A little abstinence never hurt anyone, and I know that we're not the only ones who're giving up something they love for Lent. Dave's quitting smoking.'

'Lister couldn't quit smoking for forty seconds.' Rimmer capped the texta, dropped it on the table, and kissed Holly and Kochanski both chastely on the cheek before climbing to the upper bunk, wondering whether the queen-sized lower bunk that Holly and Kochanski shared would make it any more difficult to keep their part of the promise.




Day Two

'I can't believe you'd voluntarily do that to yourself,' Lister chuckled.

Rimmer cast a baleful look at him, particularly at the cigarette tucked jauntily behind his ear. 'It's meant to be about giving up something you really enjoy,' he said. 'The three of us agreed that giving up sex was sort of... noble. And then it turned into a bit of one-upmanship. And... well.'

Lister snorted. 'Yeah. No orgasms for forty days. How's it workin' out for you so far?'

'It's fine. No problem whatsoever.'




Day Six

The wet splotch on the sheet was evidence. Rimmer yanked the sheet off the bunk and dumped it unceremoniously down the laundry chute. Surely – er – nocturnal emissions didn't count?




Day Twelve

'I don't know how people can be voluntarily abstinent for long,' Kochanski said, down on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchenette floor. 'The constant temptation is terrible.'

Rimmer didn't answer, too busy ogling the curve of her backside as she moved the scrubbing brush across the tiles. He wished she was wearing a skirt; a skirt, he could just lift up, then pull down her underwear and thrust into her, sudsy wet floor or no sodding sudsy wet floor. Sighing, he got up and made his way into the shower, turning the cold tap on full for the fourth time in as many days.

'You're not the only one this is hard for,' Kochanski said.

'Why, have you got a raging erection too?' Rimmer started peeling off his wet clothing. Undressing before entering the shower might've been a good idea.

'Come on AJ, you know this is difficult for all of us.'

'It's a matter of self-control,' Holly said, looking up from her book. 'Mind over matter.'

Rimmer's penis finally gave in to the deluge of icy water and deflated, and he stepped out of the shower. 'That's easy for you to say. You're a computer hologram. You're not subject to quite the same urges as us.'

'She's programmed to be,' Kochanski said. 'Unless you've been cheating, Holly, and doing something to your impulse drive.'

Rimmer wrapped a towel around his waist. 'What're you reading there, Hol?' he asked in an attempt to defuse the potentially volatile situation, which proceeded to explode anyway when he discovered that Holly was reading The Story of O.




Day Twenty

'Lost control yet?' Lister asked, kicking one wheel of the maintenance trolley to stop it squeaking, which promptly caused one of the other three wheels to start squeaking.

'No,' Rimmer said curtly. 'Have you?'

Lister touched the cigarette behind his ear. 'Not yet. I keep passin' the smoking rooms and thinkin' about going in, but somethin' always stops me. They don't smell as good as I used to think they did.'

'Pity more people didn't give it up.'

'Not everyone on this ship is totally masochistic, Rimmer.'

'I'm proud of my self-control,' Rimmer said.

'So exactly what shade of blue are your balls?'

'Lister. Shut. Up.'




Day Twenty-Eight

'I can't believe it's been a whole month.'

'Twenty-eight days isn't really a month, Lister.'

'Close enough.' Lister waved his shirt under Rimmer's nose. 'Smell! I don't stink of smoke any more!'

'Congratulations. Now put your shirt on, or you'll find out just how deprived I'm feeling.'




Day Twenty-Nine

Petersen grabbed Rimmer's sleeve to get his attention as the two of them were waiting in line at the mess hall. 'I heard you're getting desperate enough to want to shag Lister.'

'I wasn't being serious.'

'That's not what I heard. I heard that you propositioned him yesterday and he said no.'

'Who'd you hear that from?'

Petersen gestured vaguely. 'Around.'

'Around who? Lister? McGruder?'

'Just around.'

The woman behind the counter slopped mushy cauliflower onto Rimmer's plate.

'Well, I did not proposition Lister yesterday.'

Petersen pounced. 'So if it wasn't yesterday, when was it?'

Rimmer took a deep breath, very carefully did not say, 'Christmas', and dumped the cauliflower over Petersen's head. In the ensuing chaos, he fled, but not before the rumour had reached fresh ears and spread a little further.




Day Thirty –- morning

'So, you broke your Lent promise, Rimmer?' Addams, the technician who headed A Shift, was smirking at Rimmer. 'With Dave Lister, no less. Or should I say, "no more"?'

Rimmer readied his mop. 'That's not true,' he said as calmly as possible.

'Then why's it the word all over the ship? You know, Rimmer, it's disappointing. You got two hot women in your room every night, and yet you settle for the lowest ranked guy on the ship. Whatsa matter with you?'

The wet mop head would smack into Addams's belly and knock him into the opposite wall if Rimmer swung it the right way – but something Addams had said jarred him. 'Did you say it's all over the ship?'

'Yah, man, everyone knows. I saw Kochanski before and she looked pretty pissed.'

The mop went clattering to the floor as Rimmer broke into a run towards the Drive Room where Kochanski was working, yelling for Holly on the way.




Day Thirty –- evening

He'd tried explaining that it was just a rumour.

He'd tried telling them that he'd learned his lesson after Christmas.

He'd ended up going to bed alone, finding it hard to sleep in the stony silence, wishing like hell that the silence would be broken by a call from Lister on the intraship comms system to tell them the truth, that Rimmer wasn't lying, that they hadn't had sex, that he hadn't broken the spirit of Lent with someone he wasn't even in a relationship with.




Day Thirty-One

Rimmer heard the knock at the door and was halfway across the room before either of the women even moved. The door slid aside to reveal Lister, who was yawning. Rimmer hastily took five big steps back and bumped into the table.

'You stink! What the smeg have you been doing?'

'Good mornin', Rimmer,' Lister said dryly. 'I've been cleanin' the ship's sewerage plant for the last two days. It's lovely to see you too.'

'Don't come in. Just tell them we didn't have sex.'

'We didn't have sex? When didn't we have sex?' Lister looked genuinely puzzled.

'Lister. Has the shit you've been wading in clogged your brain? The entire ship thinks we had sex three days ago, that I "broke Lent", and now I'm in trouble.'

'He is,' Kochanski said obligingly, putting another piece into the jigsaw puzzle she and Holly were working on.

'We haven't had sex since Christmas,' Lister said. 'He made a joke, but that was all.'

'Really?'

'Yeah.'

'You're not going to attempt to further discredit me by playing along with the rumours?' Rimmer asked.

'Under normal circumstances, Rimmer, maybe I would. But right at the moment I'm covered in two days' worth of shit, and I'd rather not have my reputation dirtied any further by havin' the whole ship think we've been shaggin'.' So saying, Lister flipped a half-arsed salute at him and ambled away down the corridor.

'I didn't really think you'd had sex with him again,' Holly said. 'Not after what happened last time.'

Rimmer winced. 'Thanks for that demonstration of good faith.'

'I just know you're not the sort to break a promise. No matter how much you lust over him.'

Kochanski snorted tea out of her nose. Rimmer just groaned and reached for the air freshener. Lister's brief visit had left an undeniable, lingering olfactory reminder.




Day Thirty-Nine

'I bet you don't last more than a minute,' Lister said as Rimmer poked around inside the guts of the control panel of the main cargo lift with a screwdriver.

'I beg your pardon?'

'You know what I mean.'

'Oh? And when was the last time you had sex?' Rimmer snapped.

'What, with someone other than you?'

Rimmer jumped as the control panel objected to the presence of the screwdriver and spat sparks all over him. 'That was my point.'

'I haven't.' Lister pushed him out of the way and took the screwdriver firmly away from him, examined the wiring for about half a second, then touched two wires together. The lift started up with a disgruntled whine.

'What do you mean, you haven't?'

'I just haven't.'

Rimmer considered this for a while, as Lister pressed buttons to make the lift go up and down to make sure it was actually working (at least, that was what he claimed he was doing). 'So... what colour are your balls?'

'I said I hadn't had sex. I didn't say I didn't – relieve myself.'

'Why did we get onto this topic in the first place?' Rimmer lamented, trying not to let the mental images invade his brain and brutally gay it to death. 'Are you planning to start smoking again?'

'Nah. I like the way I feel now. I think I snore less. I don't wake myself up as much. Besides, the gym's been really good for me.'

'The gym!'

The awkwardness passed, at least for the time being.




Palm Sunday

Rimmer was jolted from his peaceful slumber by the raucous ringing of the shipwide alarm. Kochanski was already on her feet, yanking her camisole off over her head and reaching for her bra as Rimmer disentangled himself from the sheets and scrambled out of his bunk.

'Where's Hol?'

'She's been up since four,' Kochanski said, buttoning her shirt. 'She didn't say anything about a drill planned for today, so either this is for real, or Hollister's decided to be unnecessarily sadistic.'

Just then, Holly's face appeared on the comms screen, overriding the privacy they'd had set permanently for the last year.

'All personnel to their emergency positions please. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. All personnel to their emergency positions please.'

'Shite,' Kochanski said, stuffing her feet into her boots and dashing out of the door.

Rimmer got dressed a little more slowly. As non-essential personnel ranking just above the laboratory mice, he merely had to report to his emergency section leader, who, as it happened, was Addams, the man who'd been giving him grief when the rumours started about him and Lister. Rimmer took his time getting to his designated emergency gathering area, knowing that Addams would be obliged to worry about him for once. Besides, given that the emergency gathering area was twenty decks down and the shipwide emergency override shut down all the lifts automatically 'in case of fire', he couldn't have been quick even if he'd wanted to.




Four hours later, thoroughly disgruntled, Rimmer wearily ascended the last staircase and shuffled towards his room. Addams had insisted that they follow full emergency procedure, which meant descending another twenty-seven floors to their designated Starbug bay, and then attempting to fit sixty people into said Starbug. Not even the other evacuation group who shared their Starbug bay giving up and leaving after five minutes dissuaded Addams from cramming everyone into the tiny ship.

Rimmer had spent forty-five minutes with Lister's groin cupped against his buttocks, which had been a lot more fun the last time they'd been in a similar position, although admittedly the aftermath had been less than enjoyable. The only saving grace was that Lister hadn't resumed smoking the minute Lent was over.

Once Rimmer was finally released from that particular circle of hell, he'd made it about halfway back to his room before the lifts, switched back on once the 'emergency' was declared over, obligingly failed for real. The only bright side was that he was spared Hollister's speech about how they'd all be grateful to him one day when there was a real emergency and they all knew what to do, as opposed to if they'd known it was just a drill and therefore acted in the true spirit of everyone who knows an evacuation is just a drill and done nothing whatsoever.

Holly was in the kitchenette when Rimmer finally stumbled through the door; the sound of running water from the shower indicated that Kochanski was in there. Rimmer locked the door behind himself and went to join Kochanski, shedding his sweaty clothes as he crossed the room. For once he just wanted to get clean, not to share the shower for any licentious purposes. He considered himself to be relatively fit, but if he'd wanted to get the level of exercise he had today, he'd've gone to the gym and spent several hours on a Stairmaster, or just had a lot of sex.

'Smegging drills,' he said.

Kochanski nodded. 'I'm exhausted. I've had experiences in Starbug genuinely avoiding space hazards that were less traumatic than today.' She winced as her fingers snagged on a knot in her hair, and Rimmer started helping her disentangle it one strand at a time. The action was soothing and the warm water washing over their bodies served to further relax them. The smell of whatever Holly was baking wafted through to them. It was about as idyllic as they could get, being three million years from home with a sadistic captain.

When they finally got out of the shower, Holly was pulling a tray of hot cross buns out of the oven. Rimmer reached for one, but Holly smacked him with her spoon. 'You'll burn yourself,' she cautioned.

'Watch him not listen,' Kochanski said, twisting a towel around her wet hair.

Rimmer grabbed a bun and managed to split it open before dropping it onto the bench. 'Ow, hot.'

'Idiot,' Kochanski said.

'So, are you two glad Lent is over?' Holly asked.

'Thrilled. Delighted. Overjoyed.' Rimmer got the butter out of the fridge. 'Or as that odd friend of Lister's -- you know, the woman with the hair -- says, "ratshit".' He smeared butter over the bun and blew on it.

Holly's face fell. 'Aw. I forgot you'd be exhausted after today.'

'Not all of us get to rejuvenate at the press of a button,' Kochanski said. She put one of the buns on a plate and cut it open with Rimmer's butter knife. 'Food is helpful. Sleep is helpful. Whining about not being able to have sex due to exhaustion? Not helpful.'

Rimmer bit into his bun and immediately spat the mouthful out. 'It burns!'

'Not to mention the unhelpfulness of certain people's complete inability to listen to what they're being told,' Holly said, getting Rimmer an ice cube to suck on.




3 AM Monday

This late at night – or early, depending on your point of view – the crew's quarters were lit with a soft blue light meant to mimic the natural light of the moon that didn't quite make it to the interior of the ship (and even less so now that they were three million years away from it). Rimmer opened his eyes and knew instantly that he wasn't going to get back to sleep. Going to bed early had seemed like a good idea after the previous day, but his body and mind both said, 'Right, that's it, you're going to be wide awake now, don't even think about so much as a nap.'

He climbed down from his bunk and padded into the kitchenette for another bun – they were definitely cool enough by now. As he sat down at the table he realised Kochanski was awake and watching him.

'Hey, Kris,' he said softly.

'Hey.' She managed to extract herself from Holly's arms and came over to join him. 'Hol's still out like a light. Instant rejuvenation or not, she likes her sleep.'

Rimmer fitted a few pieces into the jigsaw puzzle that was still spread out on the table. 'How're you feeling?'

'Rested. But I don't think I could get back to sleep now.' She plopped down in his lap and put her arms around his neck. 'Are you still tired?' A smile lit up her eyes as his body decided to answer for him, in a rather noticeable way. 'That would be a no...'

'If you two are going to have sex, at least have the courtesy to come over here and share it,' Holly said from the bed.

Rimmer and Kochanski exchanged a glance, then both burst out laughing. Rimmer stood up, lifting Kochanski with him, and the two joined Holly on the bed.




1 PM Monday

'So... was I right?' Lister asked.

'Right about what?'

'Your performance – or, should I say, lack thereof – after forty days of abstinence.'

Rimmer pretended not to have heard him, which just made Lister laugh at his expense, and that gave Rimmer the opportunity to find out just how aerodynamic that wet mop head was after all.

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