ext_14533 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
kahvi.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
reddwarfslash2006-05-20 12:44 pm
kahvi.livejournal.com) wrote in reddwarfslash2006-05-20 12:44 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Teammates - R/L - G
Title: Teammates
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister
Rating: G
Disclaimer: You can tell I don't own Red Dwarf, if you think about it. I don't make any money from this whatsoever either.
Spoilers: Stoke Me A Clipper
Notes: I got VII in the mail yesterday. :p Watching the funeral scene in SMAC, I couldn't help hearing Lister's thoughts during the eulogy, and what he didn't say. It was so loud. And, erm, it did turn out quite angsty after all. Sorry,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
roadstergal. ;) Written as part of the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fanfic100 challenge - my table is here.
It’s not much of a chapel. No one would mistake it for a funeral home, or even a bland multi-purpose hall. Hell, it’s not much of a cargo room, all damp and rusty and worn from years of use and not use, but it’s what we’ve got. I try not to look at it. I try not to look at you. We’re not in the clear yet, and if I look at you, who knows what might happen. I haven’t come this far to have it all go to cock now. I clear my throat.
“Alexander the Great's chief eunuch has finally joined his master.” And you were proud of that, weren’t you? I’ve never understood why, exactly, but you were. Ah well. I risked changing the course of history to get my curry fix; who am I to be a judge of sanity? I’m glad Kryten wanted me to do this. I wouldn’t have liked to have volunteered. I’m glad I didn’t have to. Because I love you.
“The man who kept his underpants on coat-hangers and sewed name labels into his ship- issue condoms has gone. Life will never be the same.” Ain’t that the the truth though. Cat and Kryten exchange glances, as you sit there nervously between them. I did try, but I can’t help looking. If only they knew. It’ll never be the same for any of us, will it? But you and I… Well, that’s something different. Or at least I’d like to think so. I see you try to catch my eye as my gaze flickers past, but I can’t. Yer on yer own now, Arn. That’s the way it has to be. Please understand. It’s because I love you.
I can’t say what I really want, so I put words around it. I doubt you’ll get the message; you rarely do when something isn’t in yer face. Conspiracies, aliens, weird electromagnetic phenomena that prevent you from reading the navicomp correctly; that you see. Everything else, you ignore. Like the way I made Kryten scrub my longjohns sparkly clean. The way I look at you when there’s a changeover, and you pass me in the doorway. The invitation in my eyes when I say I’m off to bed; those you pass by as though they were never even there. You are not a man for subtle hints. But things being what they are, this is all I can give you. “We have lost the finest, the most dedicated vending machine repair man the Space Corps - no, no - the universe has ever known.” And I loved him. I love him. I love you. You might have seen that had you looked into my eyes right now, but you don’t. Just as well. I’ve started something neither of us can stop. It’s all for the better.
“No one ever pressed for a Coke, and got oxtail soup and orange juice by mistake on his shift - well, actually, that's not true: we all did but what the smeg, this is his eulogy.” The eulogy of the man that I loved. And you get to hear it while you’re still around. Make the best of it, Arn. Take notes. If we get a moment alone together later, I might not have the guts to say what I’m trying to express now, in this round-about way. Ya don’t have a monopoly on cowardice, you know. Not always.
“He didn't have very many friends, but those that he did have were with him at the end. Even Rachel, who I suppose in many ways is his widow.” Make jokes. Yeah, that’s it. You look terrified; maybe this will help you. It’s honestly all I have to offer. I hear your voice cracking as you say goodbye to yourself; fitting that. I want to go down there and comfort you; hold your hand, pull you close, tell you everything will be all right. It might not even look amiss; me and Ace were chums, and he would have been emotional had your positions been reversed, I bet. No, they wouldn’t think it odd. But I can’t trust myself. Because I love you.
Besides, who’s to say it will be all right? He never did say how many Aces there had been. I look at you now, and consider this, wanting, for my own selfish reasons to tell you to stay, forget about it, remember that you are a coward and that all this is insane. I could break this down as easily as I built it up. I could, but I won’t. Because… Well, you know why. Or you would, if things were different. If we were anything more than teammates.
“Finally this:” Here it comes, man. Are ya ready? “When Rimmer originally died aboard Red Dwarf, Holly brought him back as a hologram, to keep me sane - never an easy task. He succeeded spectacularly, and for this accomplishment, we award him this.”
I have to look at you now; there’s no way I’d want to miss the expression on your face. I know what this means. This is your Kochanski; your Fiji; your impossible dream. And if I can’t have mine, at least I can give you yours. “Kryten, place First Officer Rimmer's decoration into the coffin.” I can’t linger long enough to notice if you’re awed or happy, or touched, or just confused. Maybe all of the above. Maybe the last one, mostly. At least I’ve done what I can. Consider it a favor returned.
We eject the light-bee and salute you, just like that. I know the salute well enough, but I’ve never tried to do it seriously before. I hope I’m getting it right, but you’re not looking at me anyway. You seem to be somewhere else. In some other dimension already, maybe? Good. That’s good man. That’s why I did this. All of this. This too, is your Fiji. Being Ace. Being a hero. I’m not stupid; I could see the jealousy in your eyes whenever you looked at him; looked at him and me together. You just couldn’t see that it was all in you, all of it. I tried to help that along. I hope it worked. This is the chance of a lifetime for you. And yeah, you are alive, ya silly twonk. You’re so scared of living you don’t even notice you are. What our bodies are made up of; flesh or light, same difference. We’re alive. You’re alive. And I offer you this chance to do something with that life.
All the same, I am selfish. I keep hoping you will turn around at some point, rip that stupid wig of and call this bizarre charade off. And if I wanted to keep hoping, I could add the image of you turning to me, seeing how I did this, and why, seeing the love in my eyes, and understanding. Ah, but I live in the now, and you’re barely living at all, and so we stumble along these paths I’ve set up for us to the very bitter end.
Dunno about all this karma stuff. Maybe, by doing this, I up my chances of getting Kochanski back. Maybe some day soon now she’ll show up outside our airlock, by some stupid twist of fate. Maybe she’ll join us, and she’ll love me again. Maybe. Thing is though, I’m not sure I’d want that anymore.
Not now.
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister
Rating: G
Disclaimer: You can tell I don't own Red Dwarf, if you think about it. I don't make any money from this whatsoever either.
Spoilers: Stoke Me A Clipper
Notes: I got VII in the mail yesterday. :p Watching the funeral scene in SMAC, I couldn't help hearing Lister's thoughts during the eulogy, and what he didn't say. It was so loud. And, erm, it did turn out quite angsty after all. Sorry,
roadstergal. ;) Written as part of the fanfic100 challenge - my table is here.It’s not much of a chapel. No one would mistake it for a funeral home, or even a bland multi-purpose hall. Hell, it’s not much of a cargo room, all damp and rusty and worn from years of use and not use, but it’s what we’ve got. I try not to look at it. I try not to look at you. We’re not in the clear yet, and if I look at you, who knows what might happen. I haven’t come this far to have it all go to cock now. I clear my throat.
“Alexander the Great's chief eunuch has finally joined his master.” And you were proud of that, weren’t you? I’ve never understood why, exactly, but you were. Ah well. I risked changing the course of history to get my curry fix; who am I to be a judge of sanity? I’m glad Kryten wanted me to do this. I wouldn’t have liked to have volunteered. I’m glad I didn’t have to. Because I love you.
“The man who kept his underpants on coat-hangers and sewed name labels into his ship- issue condoms has gone. Life will never be the same.” Ain’t that the the truth though. Cat and Kryten exchange glances, as you sit there nervously between them. I did try, but I can’t help looking. If only they knew. It’ll never be the same for any of us, will it? But you and I… Well, that’s something different. Or at least I’d like to think so. I see you try to catch my eye as my gaze flickers past, but I can’t. Yer on yer own now, Arn. That’s the way it has to be. Please understand. It’s because I love you.
I can’t say what I really want, so I put words around it. I doubt you’ll get the message; you rarely do when something isn’t in yer face. Conspiracies, aliens, weird electromagnetic phenomena that prevent you from reading the navicomp correctly; that you see. Everything else, you ignore. Like the way I made Kryten scrub my longjohns sparkly clean. The way I look at you when there’s a changeover, and you pass me in the doorway. The invitation in my eyes when I say I’m off to bed; those you pass by as though they were never even there. You are not a man for subtle hints. But things being what they are, this is all I can give you. “We have lost the finest, the most dedicated vending machine repair man the Space Corps - no, no - the universe has ever known.” And I loved him. I love him. I love you. You might have seen that had you looked into my eyes right now, but you don’t. Just as well. I’ve started something neither of us can stop. It’s all for the better.
“No one ever pressed for a Coke, and got oxtail soup and orange juice by mistake on his shift - well, actually, that's not true: we all did but what the smeg, this is his eulogy.” The eulogy of the man that I loved. And you get to hear it while you’re still around. Make the best of it, Arn. Take notes. If we get a moment alone together later, I might not have the guts to say what I’m trying to express now, in this round-about way. Ya don’t have a monopoly on cowardice, you know. Not always.
“He didn't have very many friends, but those that he did have were with him at the end. Even Rachel, who I suppose in many ways is his widow.” Make jokes. Yeah, that’s it. You look terrified; maybe this will help you. It’s honestly all I have to offer. I hear your voice cracking as you say goodbye to yourself; fitting that. I want to go down there and comfort you; hold your hand, pull you close, tell you everything will be all right. It might not even look amiss; me and Ace were chums, and he would have been emotional had your positions been reversed, I bet. No, they wouldn’t think it odd. But I can’t trust myself. Because I love you.
Besides, who’s to say it will be all right? He never did say how many Aces there had been. I look at you now, and consider this, wanting, for my own selfish reasons to tell you to stay, forget about it, remember that you are a coward and that all this is insane. I could break this down as easily as I built it up. I could, but I won’t. Because… Well, you know why. Or you would, if things were different. If we were anything more than teammates.
“Finally this:” Here it comes, man. Are ya ready? “When Rimmer originally died aboard Red Dwarf, Holly brought him back as a hologram, to keep me sane - never an easy task. He succeeded spectacularly, and for this accomplishment, we award him this.”
I have to look at you now; there’s no way I’d want to miss the expression on your face. I know what this means. This is your Kochanski; your Fiji; your impossible dream. And if I can’t have mine, at least I can give you yours. “Kryten, place First Officer Rimmer's decoration into the coffin.” I can’t linger long enough to notice if you’re awed or happy, or touched, or just confused. Maybe all of the above. Maybe the last one, mostly. At least I’ve done what I can. Consider it a favor returned.
We eject the light-bee and salute you, just like that. I know the salute well enough, but I’ve never tried to do it seriously before. I hope I’m getting it right, but you’re not looking at me anyway. You seem to be somewhere else. In some other dimension already, maybe? Good. That’s good man. That’s why I did this. All of this. This too, is your Fiji. Being Ace. Being a hero. I’m not stupid; I could see the jealousy in your eyes whenever you looked at him; looked at him and me together. You just couldn’t see that it was all in you, all of it. I tried to help that along. I hope it worked. This is the chance of a lifetime for you. And yeah, you are alive, ya silly twonk. You’re so scared of living you don’t even notice you are. What our bodies are made up of; flesh or light, same difference. We’re alive. You’re alive. And I offer you this chance to do something with that life.
All the same, I am selfish. I keep hoping you will turn around at some point, rip that stupid wig of and call this bizarre charade off. And if I wanted to keep hoping, I could add the image of you turning to me, seeing how I did this, and why, seeing the love in my eyes, and understanding. Ah, but I live in the now, and you’re barely living at all, and so we stumble along these paths I’ve set up for us to the very bitter end.
Dunno about all this karma stuff. Maybe, by doing this, I up my chances of getting Kochanski back. Maybe some day soon now she’ll show up outside our airlock, by some stupid twist of fate. Maybe she’ll join us, and she’ll love me again. Maybe. Thing is though, I’m not sure I’d want that anymore.
Not now.
no subject
Thank ye for feeding back, glad you enjoyed it!