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Chapter Text

The night was black and cold. Nothing new there. But for some reason, your bed felt different. Warmer. Less empty than usual. 

Then hands slipped between your thighs and spread them. But you weren’t afraid. Somehow, you knew who was touching you, even if for some reason, you couldn’t really register it right now. 

The hands pressed down until the sides of your legs were almost touching the mattress, then you felt whoever it was press their mouth to your soft skin, and kiss their way across the insides of your thighs like they’d been there before and knew the place like the back of their hand. That was to say, they knew exactly where to kiss, where to drag their tongue, where to nip with their teeth.

Soon you were moaning softly, your hands bunching up the covers as they drifted lower and lower until finally, they reached exactly where you needed them.  

A deep moan rolled through you, echoed by whoever was between your thighs. That’s when it hit you, like a hammer striking a bell. That voice, it was so familiar it made your skin come up in goosebumps. Then they looked up, meeting your gaze with a devilish yet lopsided smile. Rimmer. It was Rimmer. 

His lips were shining in the low light; you were dripping down his chin, down the column of his neck to his bare chest. He looked half-drunk with pleasure as he shot you a grin, then Rimmer bent his head and dragged his tongue over you, moaning your own name against you. 

You woke so abruptly, you weren’t sure where you were for a moment. You sat up, adrenaline flooding through you, and promptly smacked your head against the empty bunk above you.

Heart pounding in your chest, you stared at the blank grey wall beside you as you rubbed your head and filled your lungs with the cold, recycled air. 

It took you several moments to remember what it was that had awoken you so suddenly, then flashes of your dream whooshed through your mind, the sight of Rimmer with his face buried between your thighs, his moans rolling through you, his long fingers pressing into your skin as he ate you out like he needed it to survive. 

You shook your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you pushed the thought away. You’d had many lows in your life, being stuck aboard a rust bucket in deep space with four sort-of men being one of them, but this was a new depth. 

“What the fuck.”

Later that day, you somehow found yourself helping Kryten clean the corridors of C Deck. It wasn’t like you had a lot else to do, and the mechanoid was amusing in his own way. 

You sat on top of his cleaning trolley, passing him anything he needed, a mop, a duster, or a sharp-smelling acidic cream he used often. ‘The only thing that could lift the stains left by Mr. Lister’, he’d said. 

“Kryten?” you asked, although you hated yourself for even entertaining your own stupid curiosity. “Do you know much about dreams?”

Kryten’s head twitched about on his neck, the way it always did when he was thinking. 

“Human dreams? Not really, ma’am. Why do you ask?”

You shrugged. 

“Oh, just curious.”

“Well, I know that dreams happen when someone is in a state of deep sleep, and many cultures have tried to determine why indeed lifeforms need to do it. Some say it’s simply the brain’s way of filtering and filing away all it has processed that day. But as dreams are often highly emotive, some argue it’s the mind’s way of expressing one’s unconscious desires and wishes.”

Desires and wishes. You pulled a face. You didn’t wish for Rimmer to do anything, and you certainly didn’t desire anything about him. He was a twat, a hologram, a cowardly idiot who you happened to get on with sometimes. 

“So either they mean nothing or… Everything,” you summarised.

“Precisely, ma’am.” Kryten made what could be interpreted as an apologetic expression. “I did say I knew very little about it.” 

Hoping the mechanoid wouldn’t notice your embarrassment, you asked,

“Do you know if it means anything if you dream about a specific person?”

“It probably means you’ve been thinking about them a lot. They have entered your subconscious.”

You huffed.

“That can’t be right.”

“Why, madam? Who did you dream about?”

“I didn’t say I did!”

“Forgive me, you just seemed to have someone in mind.”

You eyed Kryten warily. 

“Can mechanoids keep secrets?”

“We can try. I am programmed to take care of you, ma’am. I suppose that falls under the umbrella.”

“Rimmer.”

“What about him?”

“That’s who I dreamt about.”

“Oh.”

The corridor was suddenly very quiet.

You almost laughed. You’d never seen an android look shocked almost to the point of disappointment before. 

“Problem?”

“My apologies.” Kryten did his version of a laugh. “Get to you, did he? He rattles on about so much useless flim-flam, I’m surprised I don’t dream about him too.”

“It wasn’t like that. It was… A good dream.”

“A good dream about Mr. Rimmer, ma’am?”

Cheeks burning, you closed your eyes before admitting,

“It was kind of a sexy dream.”

If Kryten could blush, you were sure he’d be red as a tomato. You still hadn’t opened your eyes so it could’ve been a possibility. Stranger things had happened on Red Dwarf. Like you having a sex dream about the idiot second technician who irritated you at least seven times a day.

“Oh, my.” Kryten was so shocked, he stopped dusting. “About Mr. Rimmer?”

“Yes! Is that so hard to believe?”

“Humans are fascinating. Well, I suppose you do spend a lot of time together.”

“I spend a lot of time with all of you. There’s not a lot of places to go.”

“You’re right, ma’am. I just meant, if Mr. Rimmer needs help with something, it’s usually you he asks. If you’re bored and want to play some kind of game or planet hop, it’s usually Mr. Rimmer you ask to go with you.”

You pulled a face. You supposed that was true. It was complicated. As much as he annoyed you and tried to boss you around, Rimmer was always your first choice and he was yours. Something neither of you were at all used to. 

“You promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I cross my metal heart.”

That made you smile. Sometimes, these men you called friends really were sweet. Well, perhaps ‘sweet’ was a strong word. As was ‘men.’ 

“What do you think it means, Kryten?”

“Probably nothing, ma’am. I wouldn’t worry about it. From what I know about the human subconscious, you have no control over your dreams and so have absolutely no reason to feel embarrassed or disgusted or like you need to poke out your own eyeballs.”

You shot the mechanoid a dark look but he was too busy setting up the hoover to notice. 

“You said you don’t know very much about human dreams. Do mechs dream?”

“Those with an imagination do.”

“What do you dream about, Kryten?”

“Dusting, mostly.”

The door to your quarters slid open without your say so. You were about to rage at Holly, what on earth was she doing letting people in without asking permission? But then the very person you’d been avoiding all week strode into your room and your indignation sank to an awkward shyness.

Rimmer crossed his arms over his chest, his face stern and obstinate. 

“Come on, then. Out with it.”

You lowered the book you’d been pretending to read for the last hour. 

“What’s that?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for three days now. I must’ve done something wrong in your eyes, so just tell me so I can pretend to feel sorry and we can go back to normal.”

“You’re a real charmer, Arnie. You know that?”

Even the name. It pinged up like a neon sign in your head. No one else called him that. You didn't even call him that when anyone else was around. In fact, you were pretty sure Rimmer would kick up a fuss if you did.

But on the rare occasion it was just the two of you, you called him Arnie and he let you, and he, in turn, seemed more relaxed and, shockingly, almost happy. You didn’t tease him relentlessly like the others did, so the bar was very low, but you had a sneaking suspicion Rimmer actually really liked you. 

Rimmer sighed so deeply, it seemed to knock all the strength from his hologrammatic body. 

“Come on, I’m bored,” he whined, flopping into one of the chairs around the table in the centre of your quarters.  

You just sighed and hid your face behind your book again. 

“I’m not avoiding you, Arn. I just needed some time on my own.”

“To do what?”

“I don’t know! Read! Paint! Build a scale model of the Taj Mahal out of coffee stirrers! Anything to get away from all the bloody testosterone in this place for a while.”

It got so quiet in the room, the only sign that he hadn’t given in and swanned off to bother someone else was that the door hadn't swished open and closed.

You glanced up. Rimmer was still looking at you. You sighed and almost told him to get lost but then he said,

“Is this something to do with that dream you had?”

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, you just stared, wide-eyed and panicked. The book fell from your hands and you scrambled to catch it. 

“What dream?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound half as squeaky as you thought you did. 

Rimmer shrugged. 

“The one with me in it. Because if I said something horrible, it was probably well-deserved.”

“Who said anything about a dream?”

“Lister did.”

“Lister?”

“He said Cat told him you’d dreamt about me and it seemed to really bother you.”

“Right, hang on,” You held up your hands, trying to make sense of the hellish situation you’d suddenly been dropped into. “How does The Cat know?”

“Kryten told him.”

You blinked, so shocked you could barely think. That souped-up fucking bog brush.

“Come on, tell me. What did I do that was so bad?”

“Nothing! You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me!”

“I haven’t!”

“But Lister-”

“Is probably bored too and winding you up, Arnie. Think about it for a second.”

“But you did dream about me.”

“No!” It came out a lot louder than you anticipated but you were just so flustered and embarrassed, you couldn’t help it. “There was no bloody dream. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything at all. There was no dream.”

Strangely, Rimmer seemed disappointed. 

“Oh,” he said, an odd sort of look in his eyes. “Well, alright then.” Then he smiled, already standing up to go. “Let’s play chess. See you in five?”

You scoffed. You were in serious danger of getting whiplash from this ridiculous interaction. 

“Arnold, you’re shit at chess. You don’t even know how to play.”

“Then you can try teaching me again. Please.”

He pressed his palms together, his eyebrows knitting together imploringly. 

To your own utter disbelief, you found yourself giving in with ease. Maybe you liked him more than you realised. How embarrassing. 

“Fine. Make it ten minutes.”

Rimmer grinned and sprang from his chair with sudden vigour. 

“Thank you!”

He left you to it, probably to go set up the chessboard in the mess. 

You watched him go, trying not to let your gaze linger on his figure as he walked away. He was pretty handsome, you supposed. For a beam of projected light, that is. 

“Arn?”

“Hm?”

He turned around in the doorframe. He was smiling. 

It was such a rare thing to see Rimmer smiling simply because he was happy. It wasn’t a sardonic, sarcastic, or even schadenfreude smile. He was just pleased that you’d agreed to spend time with him, simple as that. 

“What else did Lister say?” you asked, though you hardly dared to know.

Rimmer’s mouth twisted in thought, then he shrugged.

“Just that I should ask you what the dream was about and whether it meant he didn’t have to share a bunk with me anymore?”

It took everything in you not to drop your book, run out of the room, find Lister and tell him exactly what you thought of that joke. 

“He’s pulling your H. Go on, I’ll see you in a bit.” 

After he left, you threw your book against the wall of your bunk. Not too hard, books were rare on Red Dwarf and sometimes, all that kept you sane.

“Fucking mechanoid,” you muttered. “Fucking men.”

With Kryten cooking in the mess, The Cat sprawled out and snoring on the settee, and Lister nowhere to be seen, it was as close to a perfect evening as you could get on the ship to nowhere.

You were comfy, wrapped up in blankets to fend off the cold, and winning at chess. You were as happy as you could be, considering your circumstances.

Across the table from you, Rimmer was scowling at the chessboard. Though he claimed to be something of a strategist, the game always got the better of him. You weren’t sure why he kept insisting you play. 

He finally pointed at the piece he wanted you to move for him. 

You smiled. 

“That’s an illegal move, Arn.”

With a huff, he tried to pick up the piece and plunk it somewhere else. He was such a sore loser, it actually made him forget for a moment that he couldn’t touch anything.  

“This is a pointless game.”

“You wanted to play.”

“No, I didn’t. I just know you like it.”

You raised your eyebrows. 

“That’s why you picked chess?”

“Stupid idea.”

Rimmer, too distracted by the game, didn’t seem to notice he’d made you smile. Uncertain of the warm feeling growing in your chest, you just tried to ignore it and focus on the game.

That night, you dreamt of him again. This time, you knew it was him right away.

It was the same story, Rimmer’s big hands parting your thighs, his lips pressing soft kisses to you skin as he grew closer and closer to where you ached for him, then the wonderful, overwhelming warmth of his tongue.

You let your head fall back against the pillow, trying to spread your legs further apart so that Rimmer could press his tongue even deeper into you. He was moaning against you, whining and whimpering your name as his hips ground against the mattress, searching of any kind of friction.  

It happened just the same as before. He pulled away to meet your gaze with a dizzy grin. His lips glistened, his eyes dark and unfocused.

A tiny part of you, the tiny part that still had a voice when your body had succumbed to dreaming, suddenly sparked. 

He wanted to play chess with you because it was your favourite, even though he hated it. He wanted to spend time with you and whined like a little kid when you refused. He liked you, he liked you so much. And he felt so fucking good.

You slipped your fingers through Rimmer’s thick, curly hair and pushed his head back down between your thighs. The moan you got in response was so low and virile, it made your hips jump.

His fingers pressed into your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide as he drank in every bit of you with his teeth, his tongue, his annoyingly perfect lips.

This time when you woke, your hand was down the front of your underwear before you could even open your eyes. You came moaning Rimmer’s name, his real name, and prayed no one on Red Dwarf had heard you.

Chapter Text

It all started when you found a photo of a beautiful woman between the pages of one of Lister’s books. 

It wasn’t exactly unexpected, half the ship looked like it had been decorated by teenage boys living away from home for the first time. There were posters of cars and girls and guitars up in the sleeping quarters; Lister’s fresh-out-of-the-wash underwear hung like bunting through the corridors; and despite the endless technological advances stowed in the kitchen (including a food replicator and a pretty snazzy dishwasher) there were always towers and towers of dirty plates and mugs, like the financial district of a large city.

Seven months you’d been aboard Red Dwarf. Seven months and fifteen days. The ship felt like home now but, sometimes, you still felt like a guest, like the new girl. It also meant you’d long since run out of entertainment. You’d exhausted both the library and the cinema, and trying to get the others to participate in a group activity always felt like you were begging older siblings to play with you on a rainy Saturday in April. 

All this culminated in you scraping the very bottom of an incredibly cavernous barrel. You asked Lister if you could borrow one of his books.

“Try this,” he said, pushing a brightly coloured wodge of pages into your hands. “It’s a Cat book. It’ll teach you how to speak Cat. You were Xenolinguistics, right? You’ll like this.”

You peered at the book, flipping through the pages with thinly-veiled scepticism.

“This is a new low for you, Dave. Not only are there pictures, there are only pictures.”

“Aw, c’mon man,” Lister rolled his eyes. “You have to smell it.”

“Dave,” you said seriously. “What did you do to this book?”

“I’m serious! It’s how they learn! If you don’t believe me, ask Cat.”

Still glaring at Lister, you raised the book to your nose and took a tentative sniff.

“I still think you’re pulling my leg.”

“It takes practice. You’ll get it.”

You huffed and shook your head. It had been a long time since anyone had said something like that to you. 

Languages came as easily to you as breathing, you just had the right brain for it, and it had gotten you onto a starship. What happened to that starship and its crew, you tried not to think about too much. 

Your expertise hadn’t exactly come in useful since the Red Dwarf boys found you. Kryten spoke more languages than you’d had hot dinners, but it was still fun to study them, something to keep your brain ticking over and stave off the boredom.

You flipped ahead, scanning the pictures curiously, until the pages jumped between your fingers. A photo slid into your palm, slightly tattered at the edges but still clear.

“Who’s this?”

You held up the photo for Lister to see.

Immediately, his expression softened. A bashful smile slipped across his face. 

“That’s Kochanski. Kristine Kochanski.”

“She’s pretty. Old girlfriend?”

“He wishes,” Rimmer said, suddenly appearing in the doorway to his and Lister’s quarters. 

Lister scowled at him. 

“She broke up with me, didn’t she? As you’re so fond of reminding me. You can’t break up with someone you weren’t dating.”

While they bickered, you looked back down at the girl in the photo. She was wearing the same beige JMC uniform you’d seen Lister and Rimmer wearing in other photos and videos in the ship’s memory bank.

“Did she… You know… With the rest of the crew?”

“Yeah.” There was a glint of sadness in Lister’s eyes but he appeared to push it away. “She was brilliant, you would’ve really liked her. She had everything. She was gorgeous and clever and-”

“It's a miracle she even spoke to you?” Rimmer put in, folding his arms over his chest.

You shot him a look. It probably wasn’t something that bothered the boys, but you thought poking fun at Lister about his long-dead girlfriend was overstepping the mark a little. 

As you guessed, Lister didn’t seem hurt. In fact he was nodding. 

“I have to agree with smeghead there. Don’t know how I did it, but she liked me. I know she did. She was fab.”

Rimmer gave a harsh, dry laugh.

“She’s no Yvonne.”

“Oh smeg off, you had one night with the girl.”

You frowned.

“Who’s this?” 

“Yvonne McGruder.”

Rimmer spoke the name with pride, like he was the first man to conquer Olympus Mons.

Listed grinned.

“The ship's female boxing champion.”

“Ohh, you like it rough d’you?”

You went to nudge Rimmer’s side but remembered you couldn’t just in time. Instead, you kind of poked your elbow a few centimetres from where his ribs would have been. 

“I’ll remember that, Arn.”

To your delight, his cheeks started to go a little pink. You didn’t even know holograms could blush but this was a very pleasing discovery.  

“16th March,” Rimmer said, jutting out his chin to hide his embarrassment. “What a night!”

Lister snorted. 

“What a tea break, more like. 12 minutes wasn’t it?”

“I’d take 12 minutes with McGruder over a lifetime with Kochanski.”

“You’re mad, Rimmer. You’re absolutely tonto.”

They were still arguing about it at dinner, except now the argument had expanded to involve more female officers aboard Red Dwarf.

You wouldn’t usually mind, it’s just that for some reason, hearing about all the girls Rimmer used to fancy was starting to make your stomach churn. Part of you wanted to make a note of their names and ask Holly to look them up later, just to see how you matched up. What did they have that was so brilliant? 

Not that you felt jealous at all. That would be absolutely ridiculous. One sex dream was not enough to make you suddenly crazy about a bloke, especially one who’d been dead for millions of years. 

Except, you admitted to yourself, there had been around five or six dreams now, each more vivid and tantric than the last, and each had you waking up, shoving a hand down the front of your underwear, and moaning Rimmer’s name under your breath as you came.

You swallowed hard at the thought. Only that morning, you’d dreamt about slipping into Rimmer’s lap and kissing him till he was groaning softly against your mouth, his hands on your arse and your hip, helping you grind against him while you tugged at his hair and whispered awful things against his lips, things that made your face burn to think about even now.

You crossed your legs under the table.

They were still arguing as they came to sit down with you and Cat. It was enough to put you off your chips. 

“Lads, will you please stop talking about all the girls you used to fancy who are now dead as a dodo,” You turned the page of the book Lister had given you with a weary sigh. “It’s giving me the creeps.”

“Fine, we’ll talk about the girls who are alive and within a million miles of us shall we?” 

“Girls?” Cat yelped. “Where?”

Lister gave you a look.

You sighed and waved him off, as if to say ‘point taken’. But Lister, ever the magpie, had found a shiny new path of conversation.

“Go on, then. Who did you fancy on your ship?”

“I didn’t fancy anyone.”

Rimmer scoffed. 

“You must’ve fancied someone. Three years in deep space with nothing else to do-”

“I was second in command of Xenolinguistics aboard a Class Five Callistan science ship.”

“So you must’ve been bored to death.” Lister rubbed his palms together, eager for a story. “C’mon, who did you fancy?”

“No one! Really! God, I preferred it when you were talking about Yvonne McGruder.”

Lister snorted.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered.

Tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek, you flashed Lister a warning look.

All the boys knew about your dream (just the first one, you’d learnt your lesson after that) and you’d barely convinced them that it would not, actually, be absolutely hilarious to tell Rimmer about it. Cat and Kryten thankfully seemed to have moved on or forgotten about it, but Lister was like a dog with a bone, and was sure there was more to read into the dream than you were willing to dwell on. 

You shook your head ever so slightly, then raised a finger to your lips and grazed it past them, asking him to keep schtum.

Lister raised his eyebrows but, remarkably, did manage to control himself. He was still smiling like the devil though.

“Well, what about us?” Cat preened. “You must fancy at least one of us?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned another page of your book.

“I’m afraid I don’t fancy any of you for four very different reasons.”

“But if you had to pick one?” 

Lister raised his eyebrows at you again.

“Fuck off, I’m trying to read your ridiculous book.”

“Let’s see that.” The Cat pushed his fingertips against the cover until the title was visible. “Oh, that’s a great one! Wait till you get to the cliff-hanger at the end of chapter twelve.”

Any hope that the conversation might turn to the new and brilliant revelation of cat books was stamped out by Lister’s enormous boots. 

“C’mon, then. Fuck, marry, kill.”

“Oh, hang on!” This had escalated far beyond your patience. “That’s not fair, I’m the only girl.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t wanna hear about all the ways you lot would choose to fuck me!”

“You think very highly of yourself, don’t you, Lieutenant?” Rimmer crossed his arms again, getting comfortable in his chair. “Who says anyone’s choosing you!”

“Yeah! I could choose to fuck Cat! He’s handsome enough, eh?” 

Lister slapped his hand down on Cat’s shoulder, giving him a shake.

Cat brushed him off, his pointed teeth bared as he sneered.

“I don’t like the way this conversation is flowing.”

“Fine, then.” Rimmer gestured at you. “You first.”

They were all watching you now. There was no getting out of this. Expectant and eager for any entertainment, they hung on your every word.

“Well…” You put the book down on the table, face down with its pages open to keep your place. “I would probably fuck… Cat. He’s not a bad looking lad and it’s only the once. We’d probably have a great time.”

Obviously extremely pleased with your answer, Cat yowled and tugged at the front of his pink sequinned jacket. 

“We would, baby. We could.”

“I might have to kill Kryten,” you added, though you felt bad. “I think he’d drive me mad.”

Rimmer shook his head. 

“He doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“He’s not here!”

“Fine then. I’d kill Dave.”

“What!” Lister threw up his hands, offended. “Why!”

“Because you’d drive me mad too.”

“So you’d marry Rimmer over me?”

Having fun now, you didn’t even notice the way your own heart fluttered at the thought. 

“Yeah, I reckon he’d make a good husband. Sensible, reliable, handy with a wrench…”

“You wouldn’t sleep with him, then.”

“Well, I s’pose if I married him, I’d get to fuck him all the time.”

Lister blinked. 

Beside him, Rimmer had gone very still. 

“Eh?” Lister said, starting to smile. 

“What?”

“Get to.”

“What?”

“You said ‘I’d get to fuck him all the time’.”

You shook your head, heat rising in your cheeks. You couldn’t look at Rimmer. 

“Have to. I said ‘have to’.” 

“No, you did not,” Cat chimed in, grinning so widely you could see all his sharp teeth. 

“Yes, I did.”

“Alright, leave her alone.”

Rimmer spoke with uncharacteristic gentleness as he held up a hand. You thought he might’ve tried to rest it on your shoulder if he’d been brave enough, if he was able to. 

Lister grinned.

“There he is, Mr. Right, jumping in to defend his missus.”

Rolling your eyes, you returned your attention to your dinner.

“Anyway, it’s not happening for any of you. Just so we’re clear. You couldn’t sweep a girl off her feet with Kryten’s best broom.”

“I resent that!” Lister shamelessly nicked one of your chips. “I can be pretty charming when the moment takes me.”

Rimmer shot him a dark look.

“Lister, you couldn’t charm your way out of a paper bag.”

“Listen, I’d take you on the very most of most romantic dinners, wine and dine you like you’ve never been wined and dined before. And I’d bring you flowers. And I’d wear me best shirt.”

You smiled. 

“The one with only two stains?”

“The very same.”

“Well, I stand corrected.”

“That’s nothing,” Cat drawled. “Baby, I’d find us a nice little patch of grass where we could lay out in the sun all day, watch the birds in the trees, maybe eat one if we can catch any…”

“That’s your idea of romance is it?”

“It’d work on me!”

Beaming, you turned to the only man who hadn’t said anything yet. For someone who gave his opinion so readily, Rimmer was keeping awfully quiet. 

You propped your chin up on the heel of your palm, tilting your head to one side as you asked,

“Rimmer?”

“What?”

“Where would you take me?”

Rimmer glanced away, his brow furrowing under his H. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never actually been on a proper date before. Not one where she didn’t shimmy out the bathroom window, anyway.”

“Well,” You laughed, shaking your head. “No chance of that here. What would you wanna do?”

“Would we be on the ship?”

“Yeah, if you like,” You smiled, starting to get excited now. This was turning out to be quite a fun game. “What would you plan if you were taking me out tonight?”

“Tonight? Oh, God, well…” 

He crossed his legs under the table. For a moment, you forgot yourself and almost moved out of his way, before you remembered there was no need.

Even though you were all too highly aware of the fact that you couldn’t touch each other, you still found yourself fixating on how close Rimmer’s knee was to yours. Despite yourself, you kept hoping he’d move again so his leg might brush yours. It was a doomed hope, but hope was all you had.

You waited patiently as Rimmer tapped his chin with the tip of his index finger, quite happy to have an excuse to sit and watch him closely for a while.  

“I’d start with my dress uniform,” Rimmer said at last. “I’d spend hours polishing my medals and my boots. I’d make sure I looked spick and span for you. Then I’d pick you up and we’d get dinner, I suppose.”

You smiled, thinking he was finished, and opened your mouth to reassure him that that was a perfectly fine date, but then Rimmer clicked his fingers.

“No! Of course, I’d take you to the observation dome. We both like to watch the stars there, so we’d have that in common. Maybe I’d bring a picnic or a bottle of something. And we’d just… Talk. I’d learn everything I could about you, all your likes and dislikes, about your life and what you want from the future. Then I’d tell you how beautiful you look under the starlight and ask if I could kiss you. Then I’d walk you home and… Ask if you’d like to go out again tomorrow.”

You stared. You were all staring. Because how could Rimmer, who didn’t have a single romantic bone in his non-existent body, come up with something so lovely?

You kept picturing it, what it would be like to see him standing outside the door to your quarters, all dressed up to the nines in his best suit, how he’d swagger about the place, making sure you knew just how romantic he was being. Sitting under the stars together, having a proper, grown-up conversation, with no fear of interruption, or jibes from the others, or brain-eating aliens from Xebbeon 5, or whatever mad situation you were dealing with that day. 

And not for the first time, you thought about what it would feel like to kiss him, if by some miracle you could. Would he dare to touch you? Or let you guide him? How would his lips feel against yours, soft or worry-bitten? How would he taste, how would he sound as you pressed yourself into him, how would it feel to have his surprisingly toned body melting with yours, his tongue in your mouth, his hands everywhere, his nose crammed against your cheek as he whimpered your name.

You cleared your throat. Your face was so hot, it took all your willpower not to fan yourself. 

“Rimmer wins.”

While the others cried out their disappointment and disgust like disgruntled fishwives, you couldn’t resist smiling at the pleased look on Rimmer’s face. 

“Oh, get lost,” Lister was scowling. “The man’s never even been on a date. Not one that didn’t end with him having to explain to the waiter that he’d been dumped mid-starter, anyway.”

“Yes, I have!”

“Name one.”

“McGruder!”

“A different one. You know, he only slept with her once and that’s it.”

Beside you, Rimmer visibly tensed.

You just shrugged.  

“So? What does it matter how many times he slept with her? You only had one date.”

That last part was directed at Rimmer, who looked like he wanted to crawl into the airlock and launch himself into space.

“No, he’s only slept with one girl his whole life.”

That made Cat laugh but everyone else stayed quiet. 

“Lister,” Rimmer hissed between his teeth.

It wasn’t often you saw him embarrassed. Considering how much they teased him, Rimmer took it all fairly well. Before they found you, you knew the boys had been living, and then surviving, together for years. Rimmer had obviously just got used to it. 

That wasn’t to say he didn’t deserve it. He could be such an idiot sometimes, a pompous stickler who wasn’t happy if he wasn’t criticising. Sometimes, you wanted to put his head through a wall. But for some reason, you couldn’t help liking him. And seeing Rimmer shift uncomfortably in his chair made your chest lurch.  

“Oh.” You were finding it very hard not to look at Rimmer like you wanted to rip his clothes off. “Well, so what? Some women find that attractive.”

“They do?”

Rimmer looked shocked.

“Oh, yeah?” Lister eyed you, smug as anything. “They do, eh?”

“Yes, actually.”

You hated being the only girl onboard. You hated having to be the one to teach these boys that women were actually, shockingly, just people, and not some mythical creature too complex to understand. You especially resented the idea of being a motherly figure, you weren’t here to teach them, to take care of them, so having to explain the female psyche left a sour taste in your mouth. 

“It clearly meant a lot to him. He’s got an emotional side under all that neurosis. And some women quite like the idea of an inexperienced man. Someone you could guide and… Explore… And…” 

You trailed off when you realised you were eyeing up Rimmer again. Just knowing only one person had seen him like that, and for only 12 drunken minutes, set your heart racing.

No one had ever touched him like they cared about him. No one had ever undressed him and kissed their way down his body, looked into his eyes and told him how lovely he was before kissing him like he was the most precious thing in the galaxy. 

Not that you wanted to do that, you reminded yourself. This was all only hypothetical. 

“And they’re so eager to please…” You added, your cheeks burning. “Some might say. I wouldn’t know.”

Rimmer had been watching your mouth as you talked. You put it down to the food-envy, you were still munching on your chips. You tried not to think about how it had been millions of years since he’d last tasted anything. 

Across the table from you, Lister shrugged.

“Whatever.”

The conversation changed. The mood shifted back to something less tense. You just tried to enjoy your dinner and pay attention to whatever the boys were joking about. And when everyone decided to go watch a film in the cinema, you went along happily. 

You felt Rimmer’s eyes on you for the rest of the night.

When, one by one, you all went off to bed, you thought the matter had been forgotten.

You pressed your hand against the keypad beside the door to your quarters, waiting to hear the familiar hiss and release of pressure. 

“Did you really like my date best?”

The voice made you jump. 

Rimmer was standing awkwardly a little way down the corridor. His and Lister’s quarters were just a few doors down from yours. Why they insisted on sleeping in the same bunks they were assigned long ago evaded you, but they were creatures of habit by now, you thought drawing attention to it would only cause an argument. 

“Yeah,” you said, after you’d found your voice again. It faltered and stumbled as you worked your way through a reply. “Yeah, I thought it sounded nice, Arn.” You smiled. “We’d have a laugh.”

Rimmer laughed softly. It wasn’t a sound you were used to hearing but you liked it.

“Yes, I think we would. And you…”

“Yeah?”

His hands were folded behind his back, but from the way his shoulders shifted, you could tell he was wringing them nervously.  

“You really don’t mind that I’ve only made love once?”

Suddenly, you could feel your heartbeat pulsing in your neck, your wrists, your throat. 

“Why would I mind?” you asked quickly. 

Rimmer blanched, as if he’d suddenly realised what he’d just asked you. 

“Oh, God, no reason why you should at all! No. Stupid. Why would you- I don’t care if you care. I knew it was fine.”

“It is fine, Arnie.”

“Fine.” 

You looked at each other for a moment. You had the sneaking suspicion that neither of you knew what was happening, what exactly was going on between you, but you could both feel something.  

Finally, you cracked a smile and Rimmer’s shoulders sank with relief.

“And that other stuff…”

He took a few steps closer. Rimmer was still several feet away from you, but him closing the gap that little bit more made your chest lurch. Part of you wanted to close it even further but your feet felt bolted to the floor.

“That’s all… Stuff you’re interested in?”

You couldn’t help it. Your gaze dropped to his mouth, then his neck, his chest, down the length of his long legs, then back up again. It felt like an age passed between your eyes leaving his and meeting them again.

“Is that okay?” you asked, feeling oddly brave. 

Rimmed nodded quickly. 

“It’s fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

A moment passed. Neither of you moved. Then Rimmer cleared his throat and turned away.

“Well, goodnight,” he said, and hurried off before you could say anymore.

You pulled in a lungful of air. You hadn’t realised you’d been holding your breath. 

You watched Rimmer until he disappeared into his and Lister’s room and the doors had slid shut behind him.

“G’night, Arn,” you said, then went to collapse onto your bed. 

Chapter Text

You’d hardly heard a sound out of any of your crewmates all day. On any other ship, you were sure you wouldn’t have noticed, or you might’ve even enjoyed some rare peace between shifts. But this was not any other ship. There was never a dull moment aboard Red Dwarf, so the quiet unnerved you relentlessly.

Still, you tried to make the best of it. Only last week, you’d had to deal with a shapeshifting monster that turned you all into the worst versions of yourselves. Post-Polymorph, you were eager for a bit of downtime.

The communal hubs of the ship centred around the kitchen/dining room or the mess. The former is where you’d made yourself comfortable that afternoon. 

Soft music lilted from the little radio in the corner, one of Lister’s more docile tapes. He’d let you borrow it, along with his old training manuals from when he first enlisted. They were spread out across the dining table in a wide arch, practically untouched, if a little dusty after 3 million years.

You picked up the first one. An Introductory Guide To JMC Red Dwarf. 

Crews tended to personify and even anthropomorphise their vessels. It was a trait inherent in a lot of species, especially humans, so it didn’t sit right with you to live on a ship you knew nothing about. You’d also been feeling a little like a spare part recently, so you thought catching up on some basic mechanical knowledge might make you more useful.

You’d only turned a couple of pages when you heard heavy, booted footsteps clomping your way. 

Lister stopped in the doorway when he saw you. He looked at you oddly, like he hadn’t expected to find you there and couldn’t be less pleased about it.

“Hey!” You frowned. “You alright?” 

For some bizarre reason, Lister was wearing Rimmer’s emerald green uniform, the shiny, metallic number with the matching cap. 

There was definitely something wrong with you. A funny hat with a little antenna should not make your chest flutter. But it was so embarrassingly endearing. 

Slowly, Lister smiled, but it didn’t seem to suit his face. 

“Tickety-boo,” he said, then went to the fridge and stared at its contents. 

Bewildered, you lowered the training manual.

“What did you..? Oh, is that what the outfit’s for? I was gonna say. Is goin’ around making fun of Rimmer all you could think of to keep yourself entertained today?”

You tried not to let your distaste for the idea slip into your tone, but you were fairly certain Lister knew just how much you disliked it when they picked on Rimmer. It didn’t stop him though. And in his defence, Rimmer usually deserved it. 

“Don’t you like it?” Lister asked, his head still buried in the fridge. “I thought it looked rather smart.”

“On Rimmer, maybe. You look like a Christmas cracker.” 

Actual, real food was rare on Red Dwarf. Most came from the replicators. You’d have more luck finding a four leaf clover in the bottom of the laundry basket than any fresh fruit and vegetables. But you were deep, deep in outer space, so you’d begrudgingly come to terms with that. 

Usually, Kryten liked to cook Lister’s meals, so you were surprised when he began pulling food packages from the shelves and piling them up in his arms. 

You opened your mouth, decided against it, and closed it again. Instead, you turned your attention back to the manual and flicked to the next page. 

“Have you seen him about, actually? Rimmer, I mean. He said something about fixing that chest of his.”

Lister looked back at you over his shoulder, surprised. 

“My- His camphor wood chest?”

“Yeah, the one you ruined.” You shot Lister a dark look. “I still can’t believe you did that, Dave. He should never forgive you.”

“You think so?”

That had been a very long week. 

After Holly insisted you all leave Red Dwarf while she navigated the old freighter through no less than five black holes, you piled into the shuttles and headed for safety. Lister and Rimmer had taken Starbug, while you were shepherded into a Blue Midget with Kryten and The Cat. 

It all happened so fast, but you were certain you heard Rimmer calling your name as you ducked into the shuttle. The door bolted shut behind you before you could catch anything of substance. It was agony. 

As the Blue Midget drifted through endless inky space, you wondered what on Io he could’ve been saying. Was he trying to talk to you? Just in case it was the last time you spoke? Had he been trying to insist that you should fly with him and Lister? Or were you just kidding yourself? Yes, that was much more likely. Rimmer was probably just making sure you’d remembered to switch all the lights off before you left.

Then, disaster. Starbug was hit by an errant asteroid, leaving Lister and Rimmer marooned together, lost on an icy planet far out of reach of Red Dwarf. You, Cat and Kryten had spent every waking second searching for them. You were so worried, you barely slept. 

When you finally found them, cold and hungry, but alive, (at least, in Lister’s case), you were so happy you forgot yourself and actually tried to hug Rimmer. 

It was an embarrassing move, for several reasons.

For one thing, he definitely wasn’t expecting it. Rimmer actually raised his hands in front of his face like he thought were going to hit him. 

Worse than that, you promptly fell right through him. Brimming with relief and joy and excitement, you forgot you couldn’t touch him. You fell to the floor, bruising the heels of your palms and both knees. It was so mortifying, you thought you could cry. 

Worst still, you knocked right into Rimmer’s light bee, shoving it out of synch and sending him clattering to the metal floor. Kryten had to scoop him up, polish him off, and check everything was in working condition once you were back aboard Red Dwarf before he could switch Rimmer on again.

You hadn’t spoken to him about the incident, apart from to apologise approximately one thousand times. You could barely look him in the eye, even though Rimmer insisted it was alright and it wasn’t the first time it had happened.

Anyway, it wasn’t a patch on what Lister had done to his camphor wood chest. It had been a very bad day for poor Rimmer. 

“His father gave him that! It’s the only thing he ever got from the bastard aside from years of therapy fodder.”

Lister looked shocked.

“I didn’t… I didn’t realise you cared.”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean. Anyone with a shred of empathy would care about you sawing a hole in the only thing he has left of home. This has nothing to do with…” 

You pressed your lips together, suddenly feeling sheepish. 

Lister shook his head. 

“With what?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. It wasn’t something you ever liked to talk about, even though Lister already knew everything there was to know. You’d admitted it all to him one night, when the drinks had flowed and you were feeling particularly miserable about it all. 

Though you never spoke about it, your growing affections for your crewmate filled your mind like floodwater. Some days, it was all you could think about for hours. Arnold, Arnold, Arnold, round and round like a song you couldn’t get out of your head. It was ridiculous. A man as whiny and cowardly and arrogant as Arnold Rimmer should not occupy your thoughts that much. But he did. 

You looked away, cheeks burning. 

“You know. The dreams. And the…”

“The what?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Go on.”

He spoke so emphatically, his voice low and serious. It wasn’t a tone you ever expected to hear from someone as irreverent as Dave Lister. 

And there was something about his eyes. They seemed different. The way they switched across your face, steady yet so imploring. Lister didn’t need to look at people like that. This was the look of someone who cared desperately about what others thought of him. It was a look you’d seen a hundred times before but not on Lister’s face. 

You frowned. It was a nonsensical thought. You were seeing things that weren’t there. It’s just that Lister was acting so strangely. His voice was off. His posture was better. He wasn’t himself. But you couldn’t put your finger on what was so different about him. 

“Lister…”

“It’s alright, go on,” he said, and you believed him. 

“The…” You gestured ineffectually. “The feelings I’ve been having.”

Lister’s brow furrowed.

“Feelings?”

The word seemed foreign on his tongue. He chewed it like it was made of rubber, moving it from cheek to cheek before spitting it back out. 

“Yes!” You could barely look him in the eyes now, but he wasn’t letting you wriggle off the hook. “For Rimmer.”

The words hung in the air between you, like musical notes sitting on a stave.

Lister froze, his eyes wide and unblinking. It was the quietest a room had ever been with him in it. 

“You have feelings for..?” he said at last.

Prickling with embarrassment and anger, you gritted your teeth. You thought you could trust him to be an adult. More fool you. 

“It’s pointless talking to you sometimes. You don’t always have to be such an arse, Dave.”

You slammed the manual shut and pushed your seat back.

“And get changed, you look ridiculous.”

You stormed out of the kitchen, your hands balled into fists and your eyes on the floor. You didn’t speak to Lister again for the rest of the day.

You actively tried to avoid Rimmer too, just in case Lister had felt particularly loose-lipped. It was also still pretty difficult to look him in the eye after you stupidly walked through him and almost damaged the only thing that allowed him to leave Red Dwarf, no matter how much he insisted it was all fine. 

It seemed you were avoiding half the ship’s inhabitants, but you couldn’t stay holed up in your quarters, the library, or the cinema forever. Finally you became too hungry to avoid human contact any longer, but you kept your head down as you found your way through the winding corridors.

Of course, this meant you almost ran straight into Rimmer. Again. Luckily, this time he called out to you before you could collide. 

It was such a lovely sound, his voice wrapped around your real name, not a nickname or an insult. You realised you were smiling before you even met Rimmer’s eyes. Which were hazel, you’d only recently noticed. Hazel and warm and, you’d also noticed, usually fixed on you. 

“Oh! Hi!”

You held up both hands, taking a step back so that there was some distance between you. You didn’t want him to think you’d forgotten about the incident; giving him space seemed like the best way forward. 

It was only then that you noticed what Rimmer was wearing. Black trousers and a big, boxy leather jacket, pockmarked with patches and badges and buckles. 

“Wow you look…” 

Did he look good? You weren’t sure. You liked the way he dressed, always so smart and keen. The sudden change in style was pretty jarring. But there was something about seeing stuffy old Rimmer trussed up like a biker from the backstreets of… Oh.

“Have you and Lister swapped clothes?” you realised. 

What on Callisto was going on? Had these boys finally run out of ways to keep themselves entertained? They lived on a ship the size of a small city, with endless rooms to explore and entertainment you could only have dreamed of aboard the Atalanta IV, and still they had to poke at each other.

Rimmer seemed just as surprised to see you as you were him. He could barely get a word out. 

“I’m- Erm…”

Too nervous to wait any longer, you blurted out, 

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Do you remember that moon Kryten told us about? With the diamond waterfalls? And we said it might be interesting to have a look around? Well, this morning he said we could stop for a while and check it out since we’re passing. I wondered if you wanted to go?”

Rimmer blinked at you. 

“Me?”

You smiled.

“Who else?”

“Won’t the others want to come?”

Something clicked in your head. It made you frown. There was something off with his voice but you couldn’t put your finger on what. He just sounded different. Perhaps it was just the outfit throwing you off.

“Well, maybe. I doubt it. But I thought…” 

You realised you were wringing your hands and tucked them behind your back, just as you’d seen Rimmer do a thousand times. He was rubbing off on you. And now there was a thought…

“I thought you and I could go together,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady so as not to give away how nervous you were. “Just to have a look round, see what we can find. Just you and me. Maybe we could take a drink with us or something. Make a night of it.” 

When Rimmer didn’t say anything, your heart leapt into panic mode.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine!” You laughed falsely. “It’s no problem. I just thought I’d ask. I mean, you’re clearly busy.”

You looked him up and down, hoping that might make him smile, or at least lead him into explaining what exactly was going on, but Rimmer looked like he just wanted to bolt. 

He held up his hands, asking you to stay put. He was already beginning to walk past you as he said,

“Give me just… Just one second.”

Then he took off down the corridor, leaving you stunned, bemused, and completely mortified.

Lister burst into his quarters to find himself sitting at the table, digging into a huge pile of mashed potatoes and gravy.

“We have to switch back,” he told himself. “Now.” 

Rimmer pouted.  

“What? No! I’ve just got started,” he moaned through a mouthful of food. 

Lister cursed his new hologrammatic body. If he could, he’d pull Rimmer to his feet and shove him in the direction of the labs. He had to settle for leaning over the table and waving his hands in front of his own face. 

“Lefty just practically asked you out on a date,” he said urgently. “You’re a bastard but I’m not letting you miss out on that.”

Rimmer wrinkled his nose.

“What? Come off it.”

“I’m serious!”

“You’re pulling my leg, Lister.”

“I’m not!”

The door swished open. 

“Arnie, have you decided yet? Only Kryten says-”

You stopped mid-stride when you saw them. 

Lister straightened up, trying not to look like he’d been caught red-handed and failing miserably. 

“Oh. Sorry,” you said, your voice faint as you looked between them.

There was a beat.  

“What’s going on?” 

Rimmer jumped up from the table and stood next to Lister, still chewing noisily.

“It was his idea,” he said in his own voice, jabbing a damning finger in his bunkmate’s direction.

It took a moment, then realisation settled over your face like a veil. 

“Oh, my God.”

It took a while for you to get over the embarrassment. For what it was worth, after they swapped back, Lister spent a long time apologising for not warning you, and Rimmer tried to reassure you that it would never happen again anyway because Lister would never allow that.

Still, your chest lurched whenever you saw Rimmer over the next few days. You couldn’t for the life of you figure out what you’d told to who. According to Lister, they’d only swapped bodies for a few days, but who knew how many times you’d spoken to the wrong man in that short period. 

The end of the next week brought a lot of change. A derelict ship was found orbiting a cold, dark planet. You almost missed it, it was so tiny on the scanner. Luckily, Cat picked up its scent before you could float by. 

The Dwarfers actually managed to pull in a pretty good haul. Supplies were running low in most sectors, but aboard the abandoned ship you found food, equipment, and enough energy supplies to power the old freighter for another few months. 

It called for a huge celebration, which is how you found yourself glammed up to the nines in a dress you borrowed (grave-robbed) from an ex-crew member, tipsy, and staring at Rimmer again.

He was just so handsome. It was easier to admit it when you were drunk. His funny curly hair was so fluffy when it wasn’t gelled down to a quarter of its natural size. His nose was strong, his jaw soft but defined, and his voice had such a lovely quality to it when he wasn’t being an arse. Io knows why, but you just thought he was great.

Cat and Lister were doing something close to dancing in the middle of the Parrots light-up floor. The Cat (very drunk) looked elegant as ever as he traipsed about the place, while Lister (extremely drunk) was spinning around him with two empty glasses raised above his head. Meanwhile, Kryten was having a whale of a time tidying up after them. 

Rimmer sighed and turned away from your crewmates. He muttered something but the words were swept away by the loud music blasting from the stereo. 

Too self-conscious to ask him to repeat himself, you panicked and said the first thing that popped into your head. 

“I’m sorry for knocking out your light bee.”

He looked up at you. There was a trace of a sneer between his nose and his lips. It told you that despite everything he’d said, he hadn’t exactly forgiven you. 

You got caught there, staring at his mouth as he replied, 

“You don’t have to keep apologising.”

“I just feel terrible.” 

“It’s fine.”

You knew you should leave it. Rimmer had given you the all-clear on multiple occasions now. You should just nod, keep your mouth shut, and try not to stare at him anymore. You failed on all three counts. 

“I just don’t think you understand…” you wailed. “I was- I was so happy to see you, Arn, and I- I had this awful feeling you might’ve been hurt or worse…”

Rimmer shot you a dark look. He was already dead, what more could happen to him? 

“You know what I mean,” you sighed, waving an airy hand. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it and then there you were and- And you were okay and it had been ages since I’d seen you and- I was just so relieved you were alright.”

A thumping bass line and wild guitar filled the contemplative silence that fell between you. When Rimmer did finally speak, it was so quiet you had to lean in closer to hear him.

“So you weren’t..?”

“What?”

He looked away.

“Doing it to make fun of me.”

Heart sinking, you almost reached across and laid your hand over his. But that would only make things worse. You settled for resting your hand beside where his sat on the table, mere nanometers from each other. 

“Never,” you said firmly. “Never, Arnold. I promise, I wouldn’t do that.”

At last, he began to smile. 

“I know. I know you wouldn’t.”

He didn’t pull his hand back. He didn’t lean away. You were just two people sitting in a bar, pressed together by the thumping music. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine yourself back home, talking to a handsome man in a dark club, your heart thudding with excitement. 

But you weren’t home. You weren’t in a cool club on the shiny new high street. You were adrift on a spacecraft, far, far away from any glimpse of civilization. But there was a handsome man smiling at you, and his hand was so much bigger than yours, and you might’ve told him that you liked him and you might not have, but either way, he hadn’t turned you down. 

“You know,” you said, before your brain could catch up with your mouth. “Sometimes I am a bit glad I can’t touch you. I’d never get anything done.”

Rimmer frowned. It creased his forehead, his hazel eyes steady. 

“What do you mean?”

You swallowed.

“I might be a bit drunk.”

“How many of those have you had?”

“Who’s to say? Lister just keeps handing them to me.”

“What do you mean you’d never get anything done?”

“I just think…” You gave him a lopsided smile. “I think if I could touch you, I’d never be able to stop.” 

You were definitely drunk. That’s why this all felt like a good idea. Through the fog filling your head, a sober thought managed to muscle its way through. You’d regret saying that tomorrow. 

But right now, Rimmer was looking at you, really looking at you, and you could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat.

He shyly looked away, seemingly at a loss for words. You made him nervous. How marvellous.

You were just beginning to wonder if dragging your tongue over that little scar on his jaw would make him moan when Rimmer shuffled his chair closer to yours. 

He leaned over the table, all his carefully rehearsed control back in place. 

“I can think of a way you could make it up to me.”

“What?” You felt your cheeks burn, then you realised what he was talking about. “Oh, for your..? But I thought you said-”

“I did. But then I thought of something.”

He smiled. It was the smile of a devious bastard, and suddenly you remembered exactly why you hadn’t told Rimmer about the dreams, the feelings, the desire to pin him up against the wall of your quarters and make him whine your name. He could be such a smeghead sometimes.

“No,” you said firmly. 

“Come on.”

“No!”

“Please!”

“Arn, no!” 

You suddenly felt stone cold sober. 

Rimmer shuffled his chair even closer to yours, his hands raised like he was begging. 

“It’ll just be for the day. Two at most!”

“Arnold!” You had to laugh, it was such a ridiculous request. “I said no!”

“But why!”

“Because! I don’t want you walking around in my body, it’s weird!”

“It’s not weird! It’s science! And I won’t do anything creepy, I promise. I won’t even take off your jacket.”

“Rimmer!”

“Please!” He sighed. “Lister and Cat won’t let me have theirs anymore. I just want one last chance.” 

You hesitated. It still felt mad to say yes. You’d seen how overwhelmed he became inhabiting a living body again. You couldn’t risk that happening again. 

Would you even be comfortable swapping with Rimmer? What would being a hologram feel like? What if he refused to switch back? What if he saw you from your own perspective and didn’t like what he found? There were too many variables. Too many risks.

“Please,” Rimmer said quietly, and it was perhaps the most serious and honest you’d ever seen him. “I promise I’ll look after you. I won’t go mad.”

Something about those words, his voice, made your chest lurch. He’d look after you. It had been a long time since anyone had said anything like that to you.

You sucked in a deep breath, then downed the last of your replicated drink.

“You promise?”

“Cross my cold, dead heart.”

You turned your hands over, staring first at your knuckles, then the lines across your palms. They weren’t something you ever really took notice of - it’s not like you had them memorised - but suddenly seeing a different pattern, foreign moles and freckles, scars from someone else’s childhood, it was a bizarre sensation.

“This,” you said in your own voice with someone else’s tongue. “Is bonkers.”

“You’re telling me.”

You looked behind you to find, well, you. Rimmer was running your hands down the front of your body, down your stomach to your hips, your brow creased and your eyes wide with fascination. 

You almost told him to watch where he was putting those hands, but it was strange, being in a body with all new parts and a completely different shape. You understood his curiosity. A small part of was actually enjoying watching Rimmer touch you, but you’d much rather he do it when you were inhabiting your body.

You felt odd. Fuzzy. Like your brain was full of television static and someone needed to whack the box. Was this how Rimmer always felt? There but not there? Real but not real? Alive but not really? 

You shook the thought away. Instead, you pointed a finger at yourself. 

“Don’t look at me naked. I’ll know.”

Rimmer innocently raised your hands. 

“I promise! I promise!”

“You have six hours, Arn. Not a second more.”

You’d barely finished your sentence before he’d rushed off to Io knows where to do Io knows what. 

Still feeling like a lost shadow, you carefully picked your way back to your quarters. Once you were safe inside, you stood in front of the mirror and tried to come to terms with the situation.

Arnold’s stern, unforgiving face stared back at you. It was an endlessly strange thing to wrap your head around.

Slowly, so as not to make yourself dizzy, you poked at his cheeks, pulled his ears, and prodded the tip of his nose, just trying to get used to the sensation of being a hologram. 

He had to live like this. Except live wasn’t even the right word. Rimmer just existed. He didn’t need to breathe. He didn’t need to eat or sleep. You were pretty sure the only reason he went to bed every night was out of habit. He was a ghost, made up of light and spite. What must it be like to be long dead but still be here, amongst the living? No wonder he was such a crotchety bastard sometimes. 

Done feeling sorry for yourself and maudlin for poor Rimmer, you ran your borrowed hands down the front of his broad chest, just as he’d done to you. 

“Holly?” you called, barely fighting back a grin. “Could you strip me down to me smalls?”

You blinked and you were in a white vest and pants. So this is what Rimmer wore under all his clothes. It looked like a PE kit, for Callisto’s sake. Still, it didn’t half fit him well.

“Holly… Lock the door to my quarters please.”

“No worries,” the computer replied.

You heard the mechanism ‘shunk’ into place. 

You took a deep breath, then, heart thudding, you slipped your thumb under the waistband of Rimmer’s boxers and pulled it away from his body. You looked down. 

“Oh!” You smiled. “Well… Alright then.”

Chapter Text

The Cat had told you about it ages ago, when you asked to hear about how he first met Lister and Rimmer. There were hundreds of stories from those early days, how Lister awoke from stasis to find the whole crew dead, how they faced sickness and time leaks and the dreadful Queeg, how Lister was actually a god to all Felis Sapiens, and how Rimmer had once duplicated himself out of spite. That thought certainly kept you happy for a few nights. 

But one of the most intriguing stories had been about this machine, a VR video game sent in a long-awaited post pod. Better Than Life could give you everything and anything you wanted: a different job, better friends, a new life. And it had been completely forgotten about.

After hunting high and low through the ship’s countless rooms, you finally found the disc, covered in dust and horribly scratched. Feeling deflated, you almost didn’t bother seeing if the old thing worked, but you took it back to your quarters and slipped it into your personal computer. 

It took a few minutes, the disc was well over 3 million years old now, as was the computer system designed to play it. With a little help from Holly, you got the game booted up and ready. 

“Holly? Could you deadlock the doors?” You settled onto your bunk and got yourself comfy. “I don’t wanna be interrupted.”

“No prob, mate. Doin’ it now.”

The headset felt uncomfortable and clunky as you lowered it onto your head. Static filled your eardrums, then a start up sound, reedy with age. 

You closed your eyes. Or were they closed for you by the game? You didn’t have a second more to think about it. 

When your eyes opened again, you had to narrow them against the smoke billowing out all around you. The game had placed you in a stark, metal corridor, not unlike those of Red Dwarf, except here the lights were low, casting purple and red shadows across your path. 

You walked forward, following the corridor until you reached a huge, metal door. It opened for you, and bright, white light spilled out. 

“Ow!” You raised your arm to shield your eyes. “Fuckin’ hell, that’s-”

You were on Callisto. 

Blinking against the harsh sun, you tried to get your bearings. After years of unnatural light and synthetic oxygen, standing in the middle of the market square of your home moon felt almost too much to bear, even if this too was artificial. But it felt real. The stone cobbles beneath your feet, the gentle wind tangling in your hair… It felt so real, you could cry.

The warm sun, the source of all life in this system, greeted you like an old friend. Basking in her light, you held your arms aloft and breathed in home.

“Oi! Move it, sweetheart!”

You jumped back, eyes wide, just as a man rushed past, pushing a flower cart so heavy, he was almost walking horizontally. 

“Sorry! Sorry.”

The market was heaving, just as you remembered it. If what the boys said of Earth was true, then all human life had died out in this system long, long ago. Three million years. Everyone you knew, everyone you loved, everyone you saw in this market every day, was gone. But you’d known that for a while now. So why did it make you so sad?

“Maybe not your best idea…” you said out loud to yourself. 

Across the cobbles, a woman behind a stall called to you, offering up soaps pressed into the shape of flowers, stars, and moons. A clock chimed at the other end of the square, marking noon. There was music in the air, and the smell of freshly baked bread. If this really was all gone, you decided, you should enjoy it while you could.

Arms swinging, you took your time at every stall. Obviously, you had no need for money aboard Red Dwarf, but you noticed that every time you wanted to buy something, you could find exactly the right amount of change in the pockets of your Atalanta IV jacket. 

“C’mon, darlin’! Fresh fruit and veg. You won’t get this lot past Saturn, I’ll tell you that for free, my love.”

“Celebrate the New Lunar Cycle properly, ladies, gents and others! We’ve got everything you need to throw the ultimate Gratification Day celebration.”

“Fuuurrrss! Get your genuine synthetic Ganymedian fuuuuurs.”

Nothing had changed. Life here looked just as it did the day you left for the stars.

“What do you do…” you mused aloud. “When you can do anything.” 

It came to you fairly quickly. Really, you only came here for one reason. The moment The Cat had finished describing how the game worked and what it was capable of, the idea popped into your head and made itself at home there. But there was something else you wanted to try first.

You blinked and you were indoors. It was the very definition of an expensive, elegant restaurant. Of course it was. This whole world was built from pictures in your mind.

A high ceiling arched above your head, where chandeliers twinkled like bursting stars and wide windows opened up the night sky to you. In a blink, you’d arrived at evening. Time changed however you wanted it to here. 

Round tables covered in pristine white cloth  dotted the room. The guests, all dressed up to the nines, sipped champagne from sparkling crystal glasses, while penguin-like waiters zigzagged between them, holding silver trays aloft. At the entrance, the maître d' knew your name and bowed as you approached him.

“Oh, God.”

You looked down, suddenly panicked. You weren’t dressed nearly nice enough for a place like this. But as soon as you thought of it, your comfortable shirt and joggers transformed into the ceremonial uniform you’d only worn once or twice.

“Okay, this might be a bit much.”

You didn’t have a chance to change. Through the low hum of chatter and the light scrape of cutlery against plates, you heard someone calling your name.

And there they all were, sitting around a table as if nothing had happened. Alive. They were all alive. Montgomery, Falstaff, Mortimer, Stanley, Talbot and Shallow. Your captain, your friends, your crew. Dazzling in their own dress uniforms, they raised their glasses as you shakily approached their table.

“You’re late, Lieutenant!” Major Montgomery declared, though she was smiling. “Come, take a seat.”

“You almost missed the starters.” 

Captain Falstaff, the head of Xenolinguistics aboard the Atalanta IV and your friend, poured you a drink as you sat down beside her.

On your other side, First Officers Mortimer and Stanley were eagerly tucking into their dinners.

It had been eight months since you last saw their faces. To hear their voices again almost made you shudder. It was too ghostly, too ghoulish. These people, your friends, they were long dead, as you should be. It was good to see them smiling. 

Second Lieutenant Talbot beamed at you across the table.

“First class place, this,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to come here.”

“They wouldn’t let the likes of you in, usually,” Officer Shallow snorted.

They bickered like schoolboys, just as they always did, just as you remembered.

In fact, everything was as you remembered, like these people had been plucked from your mind and placed here to entertain you. The major’s dark hair, greying around her temples. Captain Falstaff’s habit of tugging at her earring. The ring of laughter that always leapt up whenever Talbot told a story. 

They existed now, only in memory. But you’d brought them back. You weren’t sure how to feel about that but it was good to see your friends again. You’d missed them so much. 

Together, you ate dinner and told stories of old times. Though you’d only been on a mission together for a few years before the disaster that upturned your life, there were plenty of good memories to revisit. 

Who knows how long you spent there. It could have been days, for all you knew. Time meant nothing here. What felt like hours could be just a few minutes in the real world, you really had no clue.

In the middle of Shallow reminiscing about their first days together aboard the ship, his gaze was caught by something over your shoulder. He smiled and gestured with one hand.

“Friend of yours, Lieutenant?”

Confused, you looked around, only to find Rimmer standing behind you. His appearance startled you so much, you shot up out of your chair. 

“Arnold?”

You blinked at him, trying to figure out why and how he could be here in your world, and all the while, you couldn’t put your finger on what was so different about him. He was dressed in his usual emerald green uniform, smart as ever. But he looked off somehow, like there was a piece missing, but you couldn’t think- Oh.

“Your-” 

You stared at his forehead, where the tell-tale ‘H’ should have been. 

“You’re-”

Surprise morphed into pure shock as Rimmer smiled and took your hand. 

“Come with me. Excuse us, gentlemen, ladies.”

He led you away from your old crew, following a winding path through the tables. So startled and so dumbfounded by the feeling of his hand in yours, you barely took any notice of where he was taking you. All you could do was stare at your entwined fingers, entranced by the sensation of his skin touching yours at last, his long fingers strong and deft. 

When you next looked up, you were outside a familiar door. The restaurant had melted away without you noticing, and had transformed into the apartments you called home before you left for the next galaxy.

The change in setting was jarring enough to bring you back to your senses. 

“Rimmer-”

He somehow pushed open the door to your flat without needing the key, and pulled you inside.

“Arnie, wait. What’s going-”

You didn’t get a chance to take in your home, which you hadn’t seen in three million years. The moment the door closed behind you, you were pressed up against it.

Rimmer’s body crowded yours, his big hands on your waist, his lovely curly hair brushing your cheek as he bent his head and murmured by your ear.  

“I love it when you call me that.”

You gasped softly as his hands slipped down to cradle your hips, his fingers pressing in just as his lips grazed your neck. 

You didn’t stop to ask how this could be possible. The Cat had said that Better Than Life knew what you wanted most in all the world, all the cosmos. Turns out, he was right. 

“You’re all warm,” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to shake as you let your hands rest against his firm chest. 

“Hmm, whose fault is that?”

Rimmer practically purred the words against your throat. His breath tickled your skin, then his lips followed, pressing soft, tiny kisses up the length of your neck until he’d reached just below your ear. You practically melted in his strong arms. 

Still, through the heavy haze that drowned your senses, there was a seed of doubt.

“This isn’t right,” you said, tilting your head back so that you could meet his eyes. “You’re not real.”

Rimmer smiled softly. And there was another giveaway that this place, as wonderful as it could be, was nothing more than simulated pixels and a clever mind probe. You couldn’t recall Rimmer ever smiling at you so sweetly. The game was learning. 

“But I’m here, aren’t I?”

He took your hands again and led you deeper into the living room. You itched to explore your old flat, now more like a diorama of early 22nd century living than a warm home. But you couldn’t look away from Rimmer’s eyes.

“I’m talking, walking… You can touch me, at last. I know how desperately you want to touch me.”

He smiled again, a wicked smile that made your face burn. That was a little more like him.

“It’s all in your head. I know everything you know. Which means I also know all the naughty things you think about doing to me.”

He finally let go of your hands. Rimmer flopped down on the sofa, making himself comfy. Still his eyes didn’t leave yours.

“It’s enough to make a computer simulation blush.”

You looked away, more annoyed than embarrassed. Your Rimmer, the real Rimmer, also liked to tease you, to argue with you, and you never let him get the better of you. 

“Shut up.”

“He’d probably like most of it. Some of it he’d love.” 

“If you’re made up of my wants and desires, you’re just saying what I want to hear.”

“You’re not the only one who uses this machine, you know.” 

That got your attention. 

“Arnold?”

Rimmer shrugged. 

“A few times.”

Your mind whirled at the idea. This could very well be just the game telling you what it knew you wanted to be true. Rimmer had never mentioned the game and had only a faint recollection of it when Cat brought it up, but he was good at hiding his feelings. Much better than you, anyway. 

With a sigh, you motioned for Rimmer to get up. 

“Would you just come here?”

He smiled up at you, his head cocked to one side. 

“You want to sate your curiosity, is that it? Before you risk everything and make a fool of yourself, you want to see if it’s worth it. If I’m worth it.” 

He uncrossed his legs, a blatant invitation.

“What I’ll feel like…”

“Rimmer-”

He shook his head. 

“You don’t call me that when it’s just us. You like to call me Arn. Arnie.”

“You’re not him. You’re just a computer game.”

“Handsome one, though.”

He winked at you. And that was very Rimmer.

You couldn’t help it, you smiled. This was a game, one you’d designed for yourself and chosen to play. You knew this is how it would go when you put on that headset. So why fight it?

“I said, c’mere.”

Slowly, Rimmer stood up from the sofa. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft, just as you’d imagined it would be. 

“He’d love you bossing him about. He’s ever so respectful of authority.”

He stopped in front of you. Had he always been so tall? It was driving you wild. 

Those hands rose up to rest on your hips again, so warm through all your clothes. Your breath hitched as he bent his head, though only to graze the tip of his nose along your cheek.

“He thinks about you in your uniform, you know,” he murmured, and squeezed your hips for good measure.

Your heart jumped. Rimmer had only seen you in your uniform once, when the Dwarfers found you in the wreckage of the Atalanta IV. But you weren’t fully conscious for that, so where did the game get it from? Unless it wasn’t lying and Rimmer really had logged in recently. 

There was a glint in his eye as he reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear. You watched the corner of Rimmer’s mouth as he grazed his fingertips along the underside of your jaw, his touch so light you had to hold back a shiver. You could watch him explore you for hours.

But if this was your paradise, a world you shaped for yourself from your own wants and desires, then this is not how it would go. 

You reached up and slipped your fingers through Rimmer’s hair at the base of his skull and pulled tight. It made him gasp, his eyes squeezing shut, but his open mouth told you it wasn’t out of pain. 

Tucking your foot between his, you forced him to twist round until his back was against the door. He hit it a little harder than you intended, but, Io, if it didn’t send a thrill through you. 

You leaned in close, your fingers still tightly fisted in his hair, and watched his mouth as he panted breathlessly. 

“So handsome…” You pressed your face into the crook of his neck and grazed your teeth there, retaliation for earlier. “I knew you’d be a good boy for me.”

“Oh, darling…” Rimmer’s back arched away from the door, keening under your touch. “Been so long since I’ve been able to feel anything, you’re going to make me- God, been three million years since anyone touched me, darling…”

That made you bite your lip, swallowing down a groan. The idea that none of this was real was growing fainter and fainter in your mind, drowned out by the soft whine Rimmer let out as you pushed your knee between his thighs.

“Christ, darling…”

He huffed, flustered, then suddenly, his eyes met your again, a lot softer and darker than they were earlier.

“Or is it ‘love’?” he said. “Been three million years since anyone touched me, love. Christ, love.” Rimmer raised his eyebrows. “You’ve wondered about that. I know you have. Wondered what I might call you. ‘Lefty’ is for the others but you want him to think you’re special. And I’ll let you in on a little secret… He does.” 

His hands found your hips again. Your dress uniform had disappeared and you were back in your shirt and joggers. Rimmer’s hands were so warm, you could feel every inch of them through your clothes.

“I’ve seen all his little fantasies…”

Rimmer pulled you closer, moving your hips until you were practically grinding against each other. It made your voice catch in your throat, your mind going blank.

He grinned, a very Arnold grin that was as arrogant as it was charming, the kind that left you unsure if you wanted to punch him or kiss him. 

“He’s a noisy one.”

You didn’t doubt that at all. The way he went on, always needing to have the last word and whining constantly about the others. You knew he’d be a talker, but the thought still made your blood pump a little faster.

“Don’t worry,” You took his wrists and pinned them down by his sides. “I’ve got lots of plans for him, as soon as he gets his body back.”

“If he gets his body back.” Rimmer gave you a pointed look. “You should tell him. Me. You should tell me how you feel.”

The change in conversation made you frown.

“But you just said, what if he never gets his body back?”

“Why should that matter?”

“Well, we wouldn’t be able to…”

You looked down at his wrists, still held tight in your hands; your tangle of legs that allowed him to rock his hips into yours and offer you the friction you’d be craving ever since you entered the flat; and his lips, so close to yours. 

He still hadn’t kissed you. Maybe something in the back of your mind simply revered it too much. A quick fumble against the wall, that was fun, that was dizzying, but a kiss? That was too intimate, something weirdly sacred. 

Who knows how many times you’d watched Rimmer talk about his favourite telephone poles, or the exciting possibility of aliens, or one of his past lives, drenched in military glory, and daydreamed about how it would feel to slip your hand around his jaw, run your thumb across his cheek, and kiss him so sweetly, he never doubted himself again.  

“You like me for me,” Rimmer bent his head and brushed the tip of his nose against yours. “You’re probably the only one in the cosmos.”

You frowned.

“Don’t say that.”

“You see? Always the first to defend me.”

His soft, fond smile made your chest lurch. 

The change in pace was disorienting, and the mist was starting to clear from your mind. You had almost forgotten where you were for a moment, forgotten that this wasn’t real and this wasn’t Rimmer.  

“You love me. I think that transcends the physical.”

You blanched. 

“No one said anything about love.”

“No, no, you’re right. What do I know? I’m just a projection of your psyche.”

Your gut twisted. 

It was a sensation you knew you would have no chance describing to anyone else. He spoke so casually, as if it were an undeniable fact, as if you feeling anything more than an embarrassing affection for Rimmer was comparable to the mechanics of gravity or thermal dynamics. 

But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t. You weren’t in love with the idiot, you just fancied him a bit. Years in deep space without much in the way of physical touch made you do stupid things. He was handsome. He was funny, sometimes. He was nice to you. That didn’t mean you liked him. That definitely didn’t mean you loved him. The idea was laughable. 

But the Rimmer that wasn’t Rimmer was looking down at you, his gaze soft yet steady. He wasn’t real, but he was a projection of your wants, needs, desires, and dreams. Everything he said and did was constructed by your own mind. But you couldn’t deal with that right now. You just couldn’t. 

“I should go.”

You carefully untangled yourself from Rimmer. He didn’t protest but you could feel his eyes on you as you straightened out your clothes. Cheeks burning, you tugged at your shirt, pulling it back into place. You hadn’t even realised he’d undone a couple of buttons.

“Thanks for-” You flapped a hand in his general direction, then, feeling painfully awkward, you added, “You were lovely. See you later.”

You turned to leave. You weren’t even sure where you planned to go. Back to the restaurant? To see what else there was to explore here? None of that seemed to matter now. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your body still warm from Rimmer’s wandering hands.

You didn’t get far. One of those lovely hands wrapped around your wrist before you could take another step. 

“Wait! Before you go…” 

Rimmer gently pulled you back to him. He was so tall, his inclined head meant his curls fell across his forehead, where his ‘H’ should have been. 

“Just one little kiss?” Rimmer raised his eyebrows, his gaze already drifting down to your lips. “That’s what you came here for isn’t it?”

And there it was. The truth at last. Ashamed, you had to look away.

While working in the ship's darkroom, Kryten discovered that the developing fluid had, over the millions of years that Red Dwarf had been drifting aimlessly through space, mutated. They could make photographs come to life. 

Not only that, you soon found that you could step through and explore photos and slides, so long as you kept within their borders. Lister soon found a way to change history. Idiotic as this was, it was exhilarating too. You had time travel.

Then it all went blank for a while. As Kryten later explained, after everything had calmed down considerably, changing one aspect of history meant that Lister never joined the Space Corps. This led to no Cat, no Kryten, and no you.

The next thing you knew, everything was back to normal. Despite the odd, sickening feeling that sat in your chest - a by-product of suddenly not existing in one time stream and reappearing in another - you felt okay. 

You only heard the shouting when you were halfway out of the cargo bay door. 

“I’m alive!”

It made you stop in your tracks. 

“Textures! I can feel, I can fondle! Don't you think it’s incredible! I! Am! Alive!”

The explosion rocked the cargo bay. By some miracle, you, Cat and Lister were well out of its reach. It didn’t seem to bother the boys, this was all just another day for them, but when you realised what had happened, you thought you might be sick.

Later, when Rimmer was bemoaning being a hologram again and Kryten was explaining everything that had happened one more time, just so you could wrap your head around it all, it dawned on you that you’d missed an opportunity you would never meet again.

For just a few minutes, Rimmer had been alive. He was here, he was solid, he was real. You could have touched him. You could have held him. You could have grabbed him by his stupid face and pulled him into a kiss so outrageously good, he’d never ever want to stop. 

But you missed it. You missed him. And now you were stuck again, uncertain and confused and scared of your own feelings. 

It’s why you wanted to try Better Than Life. It’s why you wanted to find Rimmer here. You thought if you finally got to feel him, feel the warmth of him, feel his hands against your skin and his mouth against yours, it might cure a crush that had been steadily growing with every passing day. And the game knew it. 

“Just one kiss.” Rimmer raised his index finger. “One kiss, darling. I know how badly you want to. You’ve been dreaming about it for so long now.”

“Shut up. I haven’t.”

Rimmer spread his hands.

“Arguing with yourself. I don’t need to point out the irony there, do I?”

“Arnie…”

He smiled.

“He really does love it when you call him that. And if it helps, he’s been dreaming about you too.”

The question sat on the tip of your tongue but you refused to give this Not Rimmer the satisfaction. Still, your mind span. It must have shown on your face because he smiled. 

“It’s true, darling. He dreams about exactly this. Just you and him. He dreams about what you might do to him the moment you get him alone. And I’ve seen all your dreams too. I know everything. That one the other night? My, my… Shutting him up at last by sitting on his f-”

You were playing right into his hands, you knew that. You also didn't care. Time to get what you came here for.

You cupped Rimmer’s face between your hands and pulled him down to kiss you, hard. He let out a little ‘mmpf!’ of surprise, just like you knew he would, because the thought of him being sweetly stunned, and the little noises that came with it, had always turned you on, and this game was designed to please you. 

Rimmer soon got over his shock. He kissed you back, matching your intensity, and let you push him up against the door without a fight. It was his hands finding your hips again that brought you back down to reality. 

Heart hammering, you broke away. 

Rimmer’s eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted. When he did finally open them, he looked dazed, like he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think at all. You knew how he felt. 

There. You’d kissed him. And it was good. You got what you came for. You should go now. Who knows how long you’d been in the game. What if the boys were looking for you? 

But then Rimmer smiled softly. He reached up and brushed his fingertips against your cheek. You both knew it would be your last chance to  touch each other. You weren’t coming back here. 

“You know,” he said quietly, all the mischief and antagonism gone from his tone, like your kiss had knocked it out of him. “I’m serious, love. You should tell him. He’s never going to believe it otherwise.”

“He won’t believe me anyway. And what if he doesn’t feel the same way? And he’s a hologram, I-”

“He will. He does. And… So what?”

Rimmer’s smile was a little sad. But then his gaze dropped to your mouth. He licked his lips. It was such a human display of nervousness that for a moment, you found yourself forgetting again. 

“Can we…?” He swallowed thickly. “Could we do that again?”

You were only human. 

Smiling, you ran a hand over the slope of Rimmer’s broad shoulder, the other slipping round his jaw as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

That should’ve been it. It should’ve been enough. A quick kiss to sate your curiosity, just as Rimmer said. But then he squeezed your hips, and as you tilted your head to the side, you felt him let out the softest, tiniest moan.  

You gripped Rimmer tighter, one hand on his strong upper arm now, the other looping around his neck so that you could play with the little curls at the nape of his neck again. And all the while, a thought, translucent and frail, whispered through your mind. 

You should stop. You should really stop…

Rimmer groaned into your mouth, low and rough, pressing tighter against you as his lips moved against yours. He kissed like a man who’d only gotten the slightest bit of physical attention while he was alive, and had spent the last three million years craving more.

Before you knew it, you’d pushed him back down onto the sofa and fallen into his lap, your hands cupping his jaw, his still on your hips. You bit his lip, hoping to make him moan again. 

Rimmer’s big hands slipped up your back, just as your fingers found their way into his hair. You couldn’t resist rocking against him, just to see what he’d do.

“C’mon, pretty boy, I wanna hear you.”

Rimmer’s hips jumped, his fingers tightening around you. He moaned against your lips, his mouth falling open, and you took his jaw between your fingers, grateful for the opportunity to press your tongue against his. 

It was only when he whispered your name against your mouth that the fog began to clear. The illusion became more obvious. He didn't taste of anything. Didn’t smell, feel or look right. He wasn’t your Arnold. And this was nothing more than a dream.

You broke away but didn’t get far. Your lips brushed his, sharing one breath as you gazed at each other, stunned and warmed and dizzy with the need to go further. But this wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

You smiled and ran your hand through his lovely, curly hair one last time. 

“Off,” you said, and the game dissolved around you.

You yanked off the headset and pulled in a lungful of air. It felt like you’d been swimming up for hours, your arms and legs aching, your chest about to burst, and had finally broken through the surface. 

Standing on uncertain legs, you glanced at the clock and saw that you’d only been gone for about an hour. The boys probably hadn’t even noticed you were gone. 

Feebly, you found your way out into the corridor, hoping to put the game back where you found it and forget all you’d seen there. But then there he was, the very man you were hoping not to bump into for at least a week.

Rimmer looked pleased to see you, but you were too frazzled to enjoy it. Your heart was still thumping, thanks to his wandering hands. 

“Ah, there you are!”

His green ‘H’ glinted under the bright lights, a jarring and permanent reminder of just how pathetic your situation was.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, smiling.

It took a moment to get your tongue working. It was frankly a little disconcerting to suddenly be having a normal conversation with the man you’d just made out with in a VR game. 

“You have? Why?”

Your voice was croaky from lack of use. Hopefully he’d think you’d just woken up from a nap. 

Rimmer rolled back and forth on his feet, moving from his heels to his toes, his hands held tight behind his back. He was too excited to notice the game and its headset stashed awkwardly behind your back. 

“Chess?” he asked. 

You smiled.

“I’d love to, Arnie.”

Chapter Text

“Well, it's all very sad, Lister, but what can we do?”

You looked up from the robotics manual Lister had pushed under your nose.

Rimmer was lying on his bunk, examining his fingernails despite the fact it was physically impossible for them to get dirty. He didn’t seem bothered by Kryten’s potential shut off, even though you and Lister had been feeling queasy all day at the thought.

“Sad? It's sick!” 

Lister had been scouring some sort of manual for over an hour now, though you weren’t sure if it was because he truly cared about Kryten or if he was just having difficulty with the bigger words. You also weren’t sure how this was all actually supposed to help Kryten but once Lister set his mind to helping a friend, he could not be talked down.

“He’s been programmed to believe in an android heaven so that he doesn’t get stroppy when it comes to turn-off time. So he accepts a lifetime of getting the short end of the stick because he thinks there's going to be some big reward at the end.”

Rimmer scoffed.

“Well, at least he gets 24 hours notice. That's more than most of us get. All most of us get is, ‘Mind that bus!’ ‘What bus?’ Splat.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused by his brevity. He could act as cool and callous as he liked, he wasn’t going to get out of helping and he certainly wasn’t going to convince you that he didn’t care about the mechanoid.

“Speaking from experience there, Rimmer?” 

“I do have a particularly unique perspective on the matter, yes.”

“From what I hear, you were given quite a lot of loud, ship-wide notice that you were about to pop your army boots.”

“I’m just saying, we all have to die sometime. Androids too. And it’s nice that he can get his affairs in order first.”

“Does Kryten have any affairs?”

Rimmer shrugged and went back to his nails.

“I’m sure there’s a mop and bucket somewhere on B Deck that’ll have to wear black for a while.”

You looked back down at the manual. If it had been any other time and he wasn’t being such a twat, that probably would've made you smile. 

“How's he taking it?” Rimmer asked.

Lister went back to moping.

“Just keeps on doing his stupid smeggin' duties.”

“Maybe I should talk to him.” With a grunt, Rimmer lifted his legs and rolled to his feet. “Maybe he needs a bit of counselling.”

“You?”

You watched him as he sat down across the table from you. Again, you thought that if the stakes were different, if Kryten wasn’t in danger and there wasn’t a ticking countdown in all your minds, you’d be really enjoying the sight of Rimmer in his green short-sleeved roll neck, and thinking about all the fun you could have with those bloody braces. 

“I used to be in the Samaritans!”

“I know! For one morning!”

Rimmer pulled a face. 

“Well, I couldn't take any more.”

“I don't blame you. You spoke to five people and they all committed suicide.”

“Oh, for Io’s sake, Rimmer,” you had to laugh. “What did you say to them?”

“Probably just told them his life story.” Lister shook his head. “I wouldn't mind, but one was a wrong number! He only phoned up for the cricket scores!”

“Well, it's hardly my fault that everyone chose that particular day to throw themselves off buildings! Made the papers, you know. ‘Lemming Sunday’ they called it.”

You nudged the leg of his chair, making him jolt and have to grab for the table, which of course his hand fell right through. 

The physics of his body made no sense to you, how he was able to sit and lie down, but couldn’t actually touch anything. You knew the holographic technology onboard was sophisticated enough to detect the presence of an object’s surface. He wasn’t actually sitting, but hovering ever so slightly above the chair. It was all an illusion. Still, it made your heart jump to think that Rimmer’s body had been affected by your action. It was the closest you’d ever come to touching him. 

“I need you to look a touch less proud about it, Arn.”

He sneered at you across the table but Rimmer didn’t actually seem to mind it when you teased him. Perhaps because he knew you never actually meant any harm.

Lister flipped through a few more pages of his instruction manual.

“Maybe we could find his shut-off disk and turn it off somehow.”

“He's not a kit droid, Lister. He's not like that stupid thing Peterson bought on Callisto.” Rimmer shook his head. “We wouldn't know where to begin!”

“Be funny if you accidentally killed him while you were trying to save him.” You looked up to find both men staring at you. “No, you’re right, that wouldn’t be funny at all.”

“What can we do?” Rimmer went on. “He's pre-programmed to self-destruct.”

“At least we can help! At least we can make sure he goes out with a bang, give him one last big smeggin' night to remember.”

“How do we do that? He doesn't like doing anything! His idea of a good time is for us all to go up to the laundry room and fold some sheets!”

Rimmer’s mouth tugged back at the corners, forming a very Krytenesque expression as he mimicked the mech.

“Fun? Ah yes, the employment of time in a profitless and non-practical way.”

“Hey, I don't know much,” Lister rose to his feet, an idea blazing behind his eyes. “But one thing I do know is how to throw a good time!”

He ran off gleefully, leaving you and Rimmer alone. 

Nerves stirred in your chest but you did your best to ignore them. 

He rolled his eyes so deeply you worried they might get stuck in the back of his head, then Rimmer sighed and raised his chin at you.  

“I suppose you’ll be helping him carry out this pointless caper.”

You wrinkled your nose.

Rimmer’s reluctance to do anything nice for his friends irked you no end. Sometimes it really did bewilder you, as you were sure it did Lister and the others, why on earth you were so attracted to him. He could be such a git, he never had anything nice to say, and he was a true coward, through and through.

But if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t believe that. Not really. And the small moments where he allowed himself to relax and be sweet kept your heart coming back for more.

Though he couldn’t touch you, Rimmer was always near you, always interested in what you were doing and always pestering you to join him on walks or to watch one of his mind-numbing war documentaries. And his voice was different when it was just the two of you, softer, gentler, and although he never lost his snark, he didn’t have to be on the defensive with you.

Perhaps you could admit, if only to yourself, that the small crush you’d been concealing so poorly over the last few months, had grown into affection. You’d even come to accept that, maybe, possibly, you had feelings for the idiot. 

“Kryten’s just as much my friend as you are,” you said, raising an eyebrow that warned him he was being an idiot. 

Rimmed huffed and crossed his arms.

“Oh, thanks. You’re lumping me in with that glorified hoover?”

“He was your friend before he was mine, aren’t you worried about him?”

“He’s not my friend,” Rimmer stated firmly. “He hates me. You remember how we found him on that old derelict? And what he said about me even when I invited him to stay with us? To share our home?”

“That was a long time ago, Arn.” 

You tried to sound placating but you found it hard to repress a smile as you pictured Kryten painting an embarrassing portrait of Rimmer, then told him where he could stick it. Lister was wiping tears from his eyes as he relayed the story, but Rimmer didn’t find it quite so hilarious. 

“Still,” he said, his lip curled. “He’s a smarmy know-it-all who thinks scrubbing the bogs is a recreational activity. I’m sorry if I don’t feel sorry for him.”

You sighed and closed the manual. It had been about as useless as trying to convince Rimmer to be kind when he didn’t feel like it. 

“Well, I’m going to help Dave. Better than sitting around doing nothing all day.” 

As you stood to leave, you dropped the book with a little more strength than you meant to. It clattered across the table, sliding so far, it almost fell into Rimmer’s lap. He stared at it, then looked up at you.

Despite his obvious social weaknesses, Rimmer must have been able to tell that he’d disappointed you. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought of what to say next, while you stared at the book and debated whether you should leave or let him try and make it better. 

Finally, Rimmer’s eyes slowly dropped to the table.  

“I’ll help,” he said. “You’re right. He’s my… Crewmate. I’ll help.”

You sighed, feeling your chest ease.

“Good,” you said. Then, “You know, you don’t have to go above and beyond. You just need to be nice.”

“Nice? Me?” Rimmer repeated incredulously, then he smiled to let you know he was attempting a joke. 

It worked. You smiled too. How annoying.

“You can be lovely when you want to be,” you said, begrudgingly. “Just do this for me. Please, Arnie.”

He sighed, as if the effort was herculean, as if it would be painful to even try. But he nodded.

“Fine. For you.”

The party started at 8pm - that’s what the frantically organised invitation you received just an hour ago had told you - so you made sure to arrive at the officer’s club just before then. 

The boys were already there. Lister jumped a foot in the air when he saw you come in, his eyes wide.

“Easy, man! I thought you were Kryten!”

“Oh, thanks,” You laughed. “You know, I wasn’t sure about this dress at first but that really helps, Dave.”

“Don’t be daft. You look great. Come in, come in, sit down, grab a party popper.” 

You were ushered into the seat beside Rimmer. You didn’t have time to wonder if Lister had sat you there on purpose, you were immediately distracted by the man to your left. 

“Oh, wow.”

You let your gaze wander up and down Rimmer’s body, drinking him in. The tux fit him perfectly, pulling in at the waist and emphasising his broad shoulders. There was a perfect red rose in the buttonhole, and his neat bow tie was just begging to be pulled. 

“Where’d this little number come from?”

Rimmer seemed a little embarrassed by the attention.

“Programmed it in a few weeks back.” He shrugged. “You never know.”

“It’s very spiffy. I love the tie. Where’ve you been hiding all this style, Bond?”

“There hasn’t been an occasion for it. Ah! I almost forgot.”

Rimmer clicked his fingers, and thanks to Holly, a spangly, fur-trimmed tricorn hat appeared on top of his head. 

You couldn’t stop smiling if your life depended on it. 

“Sorry, is this Kryten’s surprise party or mine?” 

Rimmer’s face fell. 

With a lurch, you realised you’d pushed the teasing just that little bit too far. Rimmer often let you get away with things he wouldn’t usually take from the others but that didn’t mean his patience couldn’t be tested. 

“Shut up, Lefty,” he muttered, twisting round in his seat so that he was facing away from you. 

“No, no I mean it! I think you look great!”

“Arlight, I get it.”

You sighed. 

“Arnold, you’re not listening to me.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” 

If you’d been able to, you would’ve slipped a hand around his arm and pulled him back to look at you. But you couldn’t. So you settled for leaning right over the table until you were in his eye-line again.

“I think you look really handsome,” you said, smiling.

Rimmer met your gaze. Something shifted behind his eyes, like a match had been struck. You thought perhaps it was the sign of something in him beginning to heal, or at least, of trust beginning to form.

“Oh,” he said. 

His eyes moved across your face before meeting yours again. When he did, the corner of his mouth tugged back into the tiniest of smiles. 

“Well… Thank you.” Rimmer’s gaze went wandering again for a moment, then he said, “You look amazing.”

“Yeah?”

You grinned so wide it made your cheeks ache. Later, you would have plenty time to berate yourself for not playing it cooler, for being so embarrassingly pleased by the compliment, but right now, you just wanted to enjoy the uncharacteristic warmth in Rimmer’s voice, and watch his gaze as it, once again, got lost somewhere around your mouth. 

“Yes.” Rimmer’s smile grew just a little. “You always look…”

He stopped, his lips pressing together as if he’d said too much. 

You honestly could have cried. 

“Yeah?” you pressed, but then Lister reached around Rimmer and frantically slapped your arm.

“He’s coming!”

Someone, probably Holly, switched off the lights and you were plunged into darkness. 

You didn’t have a chance to ask Rimmer anything else. Kryten wandered into the doorway, dressed in the tuxedo Lister had left out for him to wear. 

“Hello?” he called. “Is there anybody here?”

Suddenly, the lights sprang back on. 

“It’s party time!” Lister yelled, while the Cat threw streamers up in the air, his pointed teeth bared in a grin.

Rimmer clapped enthusiastically, and you followed suit, trying to hide how flustered your conversation had left you. 

Kryten staggered into the room, his arms anxiously held aloft. 

“But this is the officer's club! Mechanoids aren't allowed in here!”

The Cat scoffed and ushered him into the only empty chair. 

“C'mon, c'mon, sit down, sit down. Let me pour you a drink.”

You couldn’t believe the spread Lister had managed to pull together. Despite the limited resources, he’d managed to cover the table in streams and sequins, and there were plates and plates of food that could kill a human stone dead, made just for Kryten.

Every other inch of the table not taken up by dinner or decorations was filled by cans of nose-wrinkling beer, champagne, and a dangerous bottle of rum that, by the end of dinner, had left your head feeling nice and heavy.

“My goodness, I do believe I am drunk,” Kryten said, echoing precisely what you’d just been sluggishly thinking. 

He shakily rose to his feet and started to flap his arms about.

“I suddenly feel the need to strut my funky stuff!” 

Holly, with her sparkling tiara barely clinging to her pixelated head, slurred a warning,

“Sit down! It's the booze, you're not us-used to it.”

You frowned, feeling oddly indignant on Kryten’s behalf. 

“Well, hey, if he wants to dance, let him dance!” You tried to get up but found it took several attempts to get your legs to comply. “I’ll dance with you Kryten, c’mon.”

With his grand hat now sat sideways, Rimmer was also completely out of his tree. He tried to wrap his hand around your wrist but it went straight through you. 

“You dance like a drunken monkey,” he said, as you fell back into your seat. 

You gasped, offended. 

“I do not! I have flare, I have grace-”

“You have two left feet! That’s the real reason why we call you Lefty.”

Rimmer’s hand fell through one of your windmilling arms again, but he was so tipsy, he didn’t seem to notice. You saw it though. And you noticed something you never had before. When Rimmer’s hand passed through yours, you felt it, you felt something, you felt him. Even projected light gave off heat, and for a fraction of a second, Rimmer’s warm hand had felt oh so very real against your skin.

Feeling bold from the drink and embarrassingly needy after your time in Better Than Life, you leaned closer until your face was mere inches from Rimmer’s.

“Well, maybe,” you said, slow and certain despite the voice in the back of your head telling you to stop. “You should get up and teach me a few moves, second technician.”

Rimmer was smiling, really smiling. It pulled you in deeper; you were practically in his lap. 

“Are you pulling rank, Lieutenant?” 

“I absolutely am.”

There was no denying it this time. Rimmer’s heavy gaze fell to your mouth and stayed there for far too long to be accidental.

You watched, cheeks burning, as he slowly dragged his eyes back to yours. It seemed to take some effort, though whether that was because he didn’t want to or because the drink had made him sleepy, you couldn’t be sure. You had an idea, though.

“I remember the first time I got drunk,” Lister said suddenly. “School trip to Paris.”

His voice made you jump. You’d honestly forgotten the others were there. As Lister told his story, and as the night wore on, they kept looking at you and Rimmer, passing knowing looks and smiles between themselves. 

You could feel Rimmer watching you too. Unashamed, you stared right back. Then you smiled, unable to help yourself.

It must’ve been a little lopsided and silly but he smiled back and appeared to move a little closer. You knew if he could, Rimmer might have slung an arm around your shoulders or your waist, maybe even rested his hand on your knee under the table.

Kryten stumbling and falling out of his chair was the signal to call it a night. You all swayed down the corridor, bumping into the walls like pinballs.

The boys headed for Lister’s quarters to keep the festivities going, but your interaction with Rimmer had left your head spinning, and that paired with the alcohol was making it hard to stand up straight. You decided to call it a night.

After kissing Kryten’s rubber cheek and telling him to have fun, you pressed your hand against the wall and carefully, slowly, staggered back to your own quarters.

“I’ve got you.”

You looked up.

Rimmer was watching you with a smile. He hadn’t gone with the others.

“I can’t help you or do anything if you do tumble, but I can run and get help if you fall into the rubbish chute.”

“Oh, ha ha.”

Rolling your eyes made you want to throw up so you settled for smiling at him. 

Rimmer’s bow tie was unknotted now, and was hanging around his neck in such an enticing way, you honestly could have sobbed. You wanted to touch him so bad. 

You couldn’t say any of this though. Even tipsy, the sensible part of your brain had some control. Instead, you said the first thing that popped into your head.

“I’m sorry about your uncle, Arn.” You leaned back against the wall, letting it take your weight for a minute. “That was awful.”

He looked surprised. To his credit, it had come out of nowhere, but the story he’d told the group had been rolling around in your head all night.

“It’s alright,” Rimmer said quietly. 

“It’s not, Arnie.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“I didn’t laugh. I know they might think it’s- I didn’t laugh.”

“I know. I saw.” 

He smiled again, small and oddly sweet. It made your chest heave. Suddenly, telling him you might be a little bit in love with him didn't feel like such a stupid idea. Then the world began to tilt. 

“Woah, woah…”

Rimmer reached out for you but, of course, could do nothing to help you as you slipped down the wall. You managed to catch yourself just in time, the pair of you giggling as you clawed yourself upright again.

“Sorry, I can’t-“ Rimmer laughed breathlessly. “I can’t catch you or carry you. You’re gonna have to sort yourself out, Lefty.”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it. I appreciate the thought, though.”

Together, you carefully picked your way down the corridor until you managed, after some consternation, to find your door.

You slapped your hand against the keypad and looked over your shoulder to find Rimmer still watching you.

Was he worried about you getting home safe? That would be a turn up for the books. Rimmer didn’t care about anyone apart from himself, yet another argument for not telling him you spent most of the day daydreaming about riding him to within an inch of his not-life.

The door slid open. 

“Are you coming in?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Rimmer gaped at you.

“To..? To your quarters?”

“Yeah, if you like. Why not? There’s room. And I don’t wanna say goodnight to you yet.”

You went inside but Rimmer hesitated. He glanced down the hallway when a raucous cheer echoed down from his and Lister’s room. It would be okay if he wanted to go, but you didn’t think he did. 

You heard the door swish shut. Simulated footsteps padded across the rug you’d stolen from the Captain’s office your first week onboard. You smiled to yourself. 

“I don’t think I’ve been in here since you moved in,” Rimmer’s voice was faint as he looked around your quarters. “I had this room for a while.”

“Well, if you ever get bored of Lister’s snoring, you can move back in any time.” 

You kicked off your shoes, getting yourself comfy. Rimmer, on the other hand, hadn’t moved further than the edge of the rug.

“Arnie?” You smiled. “I wasn’t kidding, I’d like you to stay. If you want to.”

“Why?”

“I…”

That was a good question. You knew the answer, of course. You enjoyed being with him. You liked talking to him. Inviting him to stay the night made you feel normal, like he was just a handsome man you’d gone on a couple of dates with back home, and not a hologram who’d helped rescue you from a burning starship. When he was close, you were happier, simple as.

But you knew Rimmer wouldn’t understand that, not after the way he’d been treated his whole life, and everything that had happened after that life.

“I just…” Coward. “I just like having you around, I s’pose.”

Everything went quiet then. You watched Rimmer’s face, watched as his eyebrows sank and the bridge of his nose wrinkled. The corners of his mouth turned down as his hands balled into fists at his sides, and all you could do was watch and drunkenly wonder why he found it all so difficult. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” Rimmer said suddenly. 

Taken-aback, you could only blink at him stupidly. 

“What?”

“From the beginning, you’ve always been so nice to me. Why?”

“I…” You stammered for a second, unsure of how to answer. “I don’t know. I like you. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because no one likes me! No one ever likes me.”

Your heart stumbled.

“That’s not true,” you said quietly.

“And I was horrible to you when we met!” Rimmer shook his head like he was trying to read about thermodynamics in Italian. “I don’t understand you at all.”

It was getting harder and harder to stand, so you flopped down on the bed, hoping that would help keep your head from spinning. 

He was right. Rimmer hardly spoke to you the first few days you were onboard. And you never had the courage to ask why. He just slowly warmed up to you, just as Lister assured you he would. Now, you couldn’t imagine letting a day go past without spending time with him, and you suspected the feeling was mutual.

“I was new,” you said, with perhaps more diplomacy than he deserved considering the way he’d treated you. “You didn’t know if you could trust me. I understood. Really, Arn, I did.”

“But I was awful to you. I didn’t want to be in the same room as you for weeks.”

“Why was that? You’ve never apologised. I didn’t expect you to but… I’d like to know why.”

“Because I…”

He stopped. 

You watched him, waiting. He was swaying slightly. Or was that you? It was hard to tell. The room was still spinning. 

“What Arn?”

“Because I- I was jealous!”

“Jealous?” You shook your head. “What- Why? Of what?”

“Of you!”

You hadn’t expected that. By the look on his face, Rimmer hadn’t expected to admit it either. His eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere apart from you, and finally settled down by his shoes. 

“Me?” you repeated, stunned.

Rimmer sighed. 

“You’re brave and you’re- You’re kind, and you’d only been here five minutes and the others already liked you more than me. And you’re smart, and you’re capable, and beautiful and you outrank me and-”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Rimmer looked embarrassed. 

“That’s not the point.”

It was a stupid thing to focus on. He’d said so many nice things about you in the space of a few seconds, picking out that one probably made you seem vacuous and superficial. But it was just so thrilling. It made your heart rise up in your chest, pushing against your ribs, like it was trying to reach him.

“Arnie…” You smiled. “Do you think I’m beautiful?” 

Slowly, his face softened. Rimmer seemed to realise that you weren’t making fun of him, you really were just happily surprised. Still, the booze and the weird night had obviously left him a little disoriented, and you thought Rimmer must be having as much difficulty navigating whatever it was that fizzled between you as you were. 

At last, he took a step forward.  

“You’re tilted at about a 60° angle, you know,” Rimmer said quietly.

He came to a stop just in front of you, so the toes of his boots were almost touching your blue socks.

You looked up at him, just enjoying how tall and handsome he was for a moment.

“It’s been ages since I was this worse for wear. Sorry for…”

“It’s alright.” 

Rimmer obviously didn’t want to talk about his feelings anymore. That was clearly enough emotion for one night. Your mind was still whirring though, and the confession you’d been rehearsing for weeks teetered dangerously on the tip of your tongue.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

He was starting to hover again. He kept glancing towards the door. If he wanted to go, why didn’t he just go? You weren’t stopping him. 

“Can you get me anything?” you asked, feeling suddenly despondent.

“Fair point.” 

Rimmer looked towards the door again.

You almost told him it was fine, you were fine, he didn’t need to stay if he didn’t want to. But before you could, he surprised you by sitting down next to you on the bed.

It was an odd sensation. You’d been close to him many times, squashed up together in Star Bug when Lister’s driving got a little creative; walking side by side as you explored a floral asteroid or an empty moon; sitting next to each other in the cinema, your hands almost but never touching, the urge to rest your head on his shoulder omnipresent but impossible. 

Still, it was strange. To be near a person and not be able to touch them. To be able to feel warmth coming off them, see their chest rise and fall, watch their eyelashes brush their cheeks and their hands slip self consciously up and down their thighs, and know they weren’t real. Well, Arnold was real to you. It was probably about time you told him. 

“I’ve missed this. Parties. Having a laugh with your mates.” 

You smiled, nodding your head towards the door just as an excited shriek that definitely came from Cat rolled down the corridor.

Rimmer merely nodded, his hands now cradled in his lap. He couldn’t seem to meet your gaze but you knew you had his attention. 

“You know, usually, I’d, erm… Hah, I’d usually end the night curled up on someone’s sofa with no blanket, so I’m very grateful for you taking me to bed.”

Rimmer looked at you like he was dying to ask if that was on purpose. Instead, he shrugged. 

“I’ve woken up in a few strange places in my time. Don’t worry.”

“And I would always end up doing something stupid, you know. Like kissing someone I shouldn’t.”

Rimmer actually blushed. 

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“It didn’t happen often.”

“Of course.”

“Exciting when it did though.”

“Yes, I- I suppose it would be.”

You waited. Either the penny hadn’t dropped, or it had and Rimmer just didn’t want to acknowledge it, because he was looking at you blankly. 

With a sigh, you turned your body, hiking one leg up onto the bed and crossing it so that you could lean in closer. The man had spent his whole life belittled and bullied and humiliated. Sometimes, you just had to speak plainly.

“Arnold,” you said. “You should stay tonight.”

Rimmer didn’t react. You wondered if he’d somehow misheard you, or not heard you at all. You were still pretty tipsy, even if you could slowly feel your head beginning to clear. Rimmer was still drunk too by the looks of things. Maybe you were mumbling and he was too far gone to catch it anyway. Should you try again? God, no. This conversation was embarrassing enough as it was.

That train of thought was thankfully stopped in its tracks when Rimmer slowly shook his head. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said quietly. 

Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you straightened up.

“Oh.”

“You’re drunk, Lefty. It wouldn’t be right to-”

“I really like you,” you blurted out.

Rimmer blinked.

“Thank you?”

“No, I mean-” You huffed and closed your eyes, trying to force your spinning head to focus. “I really like you, Arnie. I think about you all the time. I-” 

“Darling, it’s fine. You don’t have t-”

Darling. You were right. 

“I want to kiss you so bad, it’s killing me.”

It really did go quiet then. Even the boys a few doors down had fallen silent at last. 

Rimmer stared at you. He just stared and stared. You didn’t blame him. You wouldn’t know what to do with that either. But then his gaze dropped to your lips again, and your chest lurched so violently, it almost tipped you forward into him. 

“I’m sorry,” You raised your hand to your mouth and shook your head. “I’m sorry, Arn. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He closed his gaping mouth with a snap. When he spoke again, Rimmer’s voice was croaky and unsteady.

“It’s alright.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you like-” 

Your stomach lurched again. This time, it was not good news. The hand covering your mouth clamped down.

“Oh, God,” you mumbled.

Rimmer’s expression brightened with understanding. 

“Bathroom, now.”

You stumbled to the en suite, tripping over your stupid Captain’s rug on the way. Hands shaking, you gripped the cold cistern and wretched over the toilet. 

As you brought up all you’d consumed over the course of the night, you were faintly aware of Rimmer standing over you, his voice soft and steady, reassuring you that everything was okay, that you were going to be alright, that you were doing brilliantly and you’d be in bed before you knew it. 

Though you had no memory of it, you must have brushed your teeth after you finished. Mint stung your tongue as you fell onto your bed. Head swimming, you let out a long sigh and pawed at your duvet until it covered your body.

Rimmer was crouching by the head of your bed. You’d never seen him look concerned before. It looked so pretty on him. 

“Hi,” you whispered.

Rimmer smiled faintly. 

“Hi, Lefty.”

“Mm, I prefer ‘darling’.”

“Maybe on special occasions.” 

He raised his hand as if to brush your hair back from your face, but ended up just ghosting it across your cheek instead.

It took some effort but you slipped your hand out from under the duvet and beckoned him closer with the last of your flagging energy. 

“Please stay.”

This time, Rimmer didn’t glance towards the door. He didn’t look worried or cornered or confused. He didn’t even hesitate. He just smiled and did as you asked.

“Okay, darling. Budge up.”

Chapter Text

You only managed to take one step into the mess before you were dragged into the usual madness.

“You’re back! Amazing!”

Lister jumped up from the couch and crossed the room so quickly, you barely realised he was hugging you until he let you go again.

“Oh, Dave. Did you really miss me that much? It’s only been two weeks.”

“No, no, I- Well, yeah, of course, I did.” Lister grinned. “We all did. Rimmer was practically climbin’ the walls. He almost went and got you. But you have to come see this. We found something brutal.”

He grabbed your hand. You barely had time to mutter ‘Oh, God’ before he was pulling you down the corridor.

After waking up alone in the aftermath of Kryten’s Last Day party, you’d decided a week away to the other end of the ship would do you some good. 

It wasn’t unusual, so the boys thankfully asked very few questions. Lister had recently holidayed on a passing tropical moon, where he spent his days smoking, fishing, and sunbathing. The Cat had spent a few days napping in the deserted rooms just above the engines, the warmest part of the ship. Even Rimmer had planned a month-long exploration of the diesel decks, cataloguing fan belts or cogs of something equally mundane.

It had always seemed rather pointless to you. Spending a few weeks in isolation from an already stagnant life hardly sounded like a holiday to you. But then came the party. And everything that happened after. 

You couldn’t remember much of that night but you could remember how hard your heart had thudded as Rimmer awkwardly clambered into bed beside you, how warm his simulated body had felt, even at a distance, and how handsome he was as he slept. He looked so much younger when he wasn’t frowning and worrying. It was wonderful. But then you woke up alone, and you decided enough was enough.

If he didn’t want to stay, then fine. If he didn’t want to talk about what happened, also fine. If you’d drunkenly told him that you were in love with him and couldn’t conceive of ever not loving him, and he didn’t want to know, then fine, fine, fine. It was all fine. You couldn’t remember anything anyway, so it was all completely fine. 

Except that it wasn’t. Because before you decided you were going away for a little while, Rimmer avoided you like the plague. Every conversation was stunted, every stolen glance pained. It was like you were the new girl all over again, trying to forge a friendship with a man who didn’t know how to care about anyone but himself. It was exhausting, and too much to bear frankly, so you announced you were going on holiday and the boys who could look you in the eye were happy for you. 

One week had slipped into two, as the thought of facing Rimmer again after just a few days seemed unthinkable. But eventually, you found you missed your friends, and your bed, and you’d finished your crossword book quicker than you thought.

You didn't expect to be pulled into the usual hijinks the moment you arrived back but then, maybe that was an error on your part. 

Lister dragged you into one of the many labs in the science and research department. Immediately, your heart began to pound a little harder. Standing behind an empty table, surrounded by miles and miles of equipment, was Rimmer.

To your dismay, you smiled at him instinctively. Great. It had taken mere seconds for you to erase two weeks of work. So much for getting over the idiot.

“Now,” Lister said, coming round to stand in front of you and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Stand there.”

Bewildered, you did as he said.

Lister went and stood beside the table, next to Rimmer. He grinned and raised his hands, like a magician about to perform a grand trick.

“What do you see?” 

You stared at the table. Nothing happened. You glanced around the room but all you could see were the blinking lights that indicated Red Dwarf was still running relatively smoothly and the two men staring at you. 

“What do you mean?”

Lister waved his hands again emphatically.

“What do you see!”

“Nothing?”

“Eh?”

You sighed.

“Is this some sort of a wind up? Did you really miss me that much?”

Lister looked at Rimmer, then back at you. He was staring at you as if you’d sprouted a second head.

“What, you really don’t see anything? At all? Nothing?”

“Well… No?”

You looked around the room again, just in case. Whirring engines, cold metal, an almost oppressive feeling of bemusement, nothing new or out of the ordinary. 

When Lister deflated, looking just as confused as you felt, you finally allowed yourself to smile at Rimmer properly. When he smiled back, almost shyly, your heart went haywire. For fuck’s sake. 

Your little holiday was meant to cure you of your infatuation, like in the olden days when people would visit the seaside to recover from an illness. But it appeared absence had only made the heart grow fonder and more painfully certain of its target. Seeing Rimmer now, standing there in a shiny new uniform adorned with new medals you couldn't wait to tease him about, you felt like you couldn’t quite catch your breath. 

“Hey, Arnie,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the excitement rushing through you. “Did you miss me?”

Rimmer sighed.

“Oh, darling, I missed you so much,” he said softly. “I thought about you every day.”

Your cheeks prickled with embarrassment. 

“Oh,” You floundered, completely taken-aback. “I thought about you too, Arn.”

You glanced at Lister, wondering if he was as surprised as you by Rimmer’s candour. He knew him the best of all of you, after all. But Lister didn’t look surprised, he looked downright aghast. He was staring at you again, his jaw hanging loose.

 “What?” you asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

Lister slowly shook his head.

“You’re joking.”

“What!”

He scoffed and looked at Rimmer. 

“Camille, what did you call it? A genetically engineered life form, designed to appear to each individual as the object of their deepest desire?”

Rimmer didn’t appear to hear him. In fact, he hadn’t taken his eyes off you since you entered the room. He placed his palm flat against his chest, right over where his heart would have been.

“You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

You blushed. You actually blushed. You could feel it, the heat creeping across your skin as your thoughts muddled and your tongue turned to rubber. In your defence, it was the most anyone had flirted with you in several million years. The compliment probably would’ve knocked you flat even if you didn’t already want to pin Rimmer down on the table between you.

“Arnie…”

You shook your head, barely resisting the sudden urge to tuck your hair behind your ear and giggle. You had never hated yourself more. 

“Lefty, this is Camille,” Lister grinned. “We rescued them from a derelict last night.”

You frowned. 

“Camille?”

You blinked and Rimmer was gone. In his place stood a large green blob, its eyestalk pointed in your direction. 

“Sorry,” said the blob. “Dave said it would be amusing.”

“It was supposed to be, anyway. Now I just feel sick.” Lister grimaced. “You’re telling me, you could see anyone, anything, in the entire cosmos, and the object of your desires and wishes is Arnold Judas Rimmer?” 

You were still staring at the blob, unsure of whether to start running or get kicking, so you missed his little jab. Lister seemed relaxed around it, but the Dwarfers didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to extraterrestrial life. You took a step back, just in case. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Camille is a GELF and a friend,” Lister smiled at the blob. “They can reflect the viewer’s deepest romantic desires. The person you find most attractive in all the universe. The person you think is perfect for you.”

You began to relax. So you weren’t in danger. Fabulous. But then Lister’s words finally sank in. 

“Wait, so… So Camille is… And they can… And I saw…” The penny dropped with a sickening ‘thunk’. “Oh, shit.”

Lister offered a sympathetic look. 

“Yeah.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah.”

“This is so bad.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not helping.”

He shrugged.

“I just thought you fancied him a bit cos you were bored, y’know. I didn’t realise you loved him. Ugh!”

“I don’t!”

“Well, that’s not what it looks like.”

You took a breath. As much as it pained you to admit it, Lister was right. That’s not what it looked like at all.

Deciding that was too much to deal with right now, you turned to your new shipmate and gave them a weak smile.

“Camille, it’s so nice to meet you. Are you… Are you staying long?”

With Kryten distracted with your new arrival, Rimmer and The Cat nowhere to be seen, and Lister in an insufferably smug mood, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. Everyone was so busy with something else, they probably hadn’t even noticed you were back from your holiday. 

Good, you wanted it that way. It made the possibility of sneaking off and having another peaceful week to yourself all the more feasible. You’d only been back for five minutes and you already couldn’t wait to get away again.

Feeling a bit like a spare part, you made your way back to the mess and flopped down on the couch, trying your best to digest all that you’d learnt. You stared at the ceiling, picking out constellations in the metalwork as you considered Camille.

How embarrassing. It was a wonder you’d made it out of the labs without throwing yourself out of the airlock.

It was one thing admitting to Rimmer that you thought about kissing him practically every second of every day, or telling him that you desperately wanted to touch him and wouldn’t be able to stop once you started, but your own subconscious wanting to see him when given a blank canvas, hearing him say things you desperately wanted to hear, and all in front of Lister, that was enough to make anyone want to chuck themself into the garbage crusher. 

With a sigh, you covered your face with your hands and prayed Lister would keep his damn mouth shut. Things really couldn’t get much worse.

“You’re back!”

Fantastic.

You dragged your hands down your face and looked up to find Rimmer leaning over the arm of the sofa, beaming down at you like a kid on Christmas day. 

You wouldn’t have been able to hold back a smile if someone was paying you. 

“I’m back!”

You sat up, hesitated, then awkwardly got to your feet, as if that had been the plan the whole time. It really was mortifying just how self-conscious you were around him. 

Rimmer grinned.

“Did you bring me back a souvenir?” 

Had you ever seen him smile that broadly? You didn’t think so, not unless it was at someone else’s expense. It looked so lovely on him. It made his cheeks bunch up and his eyes sparkle.

Embarrassing. You were so unbelievably embarrassing. 

“Left it behind at the hotel,” You shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Shame.” 

Rimmer was still grinning. Maybe he’d seen Lister get his hair trapped in their bedroom door again. 

“I’m so glad you’re back,” He folded his hands behind his back. “I’ve got so used to having you around; I’d almost forgotten how much better everything is now you’re here.”

You smirked. That was almost a compliment.

“Have they been teasing you, Arnie?”

You were only kidding, but pink dusted his cheeks. It was such a lovely sight, you could barely resist the urge to brush your fingertips along the path laid out for you, across his cheek, down his neck to his chest and beyond.

Rimmer lowered his head, his curls now infuriatingly within reach.

“Yes, but that’s not what I mean. I… Everything is just better when you’re here.”

You watched, hardly daring to breathe, as he met your gaze again. Your fingers itched to wrap around the collar of his stupid jacket and pull him in, but the thought of moving right now seemed impossible, even if you could touch him.

He’d missed you. Things were better when you were around. He looked at you like he had something to tell you, something huge and important, and you knew because you looked at him the same way. It was unbearable.

“I met Camille,” you said, perhaps too abruptly. “They seem nice.”

“Ah, yes. Kryten’s new bit of slime.” 

“I was only gone for two weeks!”

“Longest two weeks of my life, leaving me alone with this lot. Did you miss me?”

Rimmer’s question made you falter. He was acting so odd. Smiling, teasing, holding your gaze, crossing the line of your personal space by a tiny but meaningful margin. Maybe he really did miss you. Maybe he really was trying. 

“Yeah,” you said, heart pounding in your ears. “Yeah, I did. I… I’ve got used to having you around too, Arn.”

Rimmer gave you this look, a very particular look, the look of someone who’d never been told anything like that in their life. No one had ever missed him. No one had ever told him he was wanted. It seemed to give Rimmer the strength to do something else new: be brave. 

“Listen,” he said, looking down at his shiny boots. “About what you said that night-”

Shit. 

“Oh. God. Arn, please just-“ You closed your eyes, too humiliated to even look at him. “Just ignore all that. I was so out of my tree, I wasn’t making any sense at all.”

If you’d been looking, you would've seen Rimmer’s face fall. 

“Oh,” he said quietly. 

You didn’t notice his sudden change in tone, you were too busy wishing the floor would open up and swallow you. 

“Please just- Just forget everything I said. I didn’t know what I was saying, Arn. I’m really sorry. I hope I wasn’t too embarrassing?”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“I remember throwing up?”

You attempted a grin but it came out a little fractured.

Rimmer just nodded. The sparkle was gone from his eyes. You’d give anything to get it back, including putting your pride on the anvil. 

“And I… I remember asking you to stay…” you said slowly.

If you were going to broach the subject, you knew you would have to tread carefully. It felt like there was suddenly a dizzying high wire suspended between you, with you at one end and Rimmer, a hundred feet away at the other.

“And I remember… I remember waking up and you were gone.”

To your surprise, Rimmer actually looked guilty. He sucked in his bottom lip, then let it go again slowly, dragging it between his teeth. The bastard. 

“Lister came and got me,” he said. “Early in the morning. Kryten’s replacement had arrived and you just looked so…” Rimmer shook his head. “I should’ve woken you. Or left you a note or something, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Stunned, you had to remind yourself to breathe. He wanted to stay. He wanted to stay and he’d just apologised to you. You knew you must be staring but you just needed to see him, to see into him, to figure out if he was lying or if behind that shy, uncertain smile, Rimmer really meant what he was saying. 

“So you weren’t..?”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Embarrassed, I suppose. I thought maybe you didn’t like…”

“What, Lefty?”

“I thought maybe you thought you’d made a mistake.”

Rimmer smiled and shook his head.

“No. No, definitely not. It was the best night's sleep of my life, honestly.”

You scoffed.

“That was the booze.”

“No, no, it was definitely you. It was nice, Lefty. It was really, really nice. I… I loved it.”

“Oh.” You pressed your lips together, pushing down a smile. “Well, you’re, um... You’re welcome back anytime.”

Rimmer grinned again. Io, it was a nice smile. Why didn’t he smile like that all the time? And why weren’t you kissing him again? Suddenly, you couldn’t remember why.

“So,” Rimmer said. “Who did you see?”

“Hm?”

“When you met the Jolly Green Blob. Who did you see?”

“What? Oh, erm…” Fuck. “Just, you know… A really handsome guy with, you know, hair and… Eyes.”

Thankfully, hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor came to your rescue. You and Rimmer had been interrupted on countless occasions, but this was the first time you were actually grateful for it. You’d never been so relieved to see Lister in all the time you’d known him. 

“Oi!” he shouted as he came careening into the mess. “You two can catch up on kissin’ later. There’s a ship approaching. It’s only Camille’s smeggin’ husband! Can one of you find Cat? I can’t find him anywhere.”

He didn’t stop. Lister just grabbed his jacket, his own kind of armour, then rushed out of the door again. 

You and Rimmer looked at each other. With a nod, it was silently agreed that you’d both ignore Lister’s comment.

While Rimmer ran off after Lister, you went in the opposite direction. You dumped your bags in your quarters, then found The Cat curled up in the flight deck. After much complaining, you managed to convince him to follow you down to the hangar just in time to see Camille and her husband greeting each other. 

At least, that’s how it looked if you concentrated. When you first entered the hangar, for a disorienting and somewhat thought-provoking moment, there had been three Rimmers standing close together, as well as Lister and Kryten. You found yours with ease though. 

As Kryten said goodbye to his short-lived love, Rimmer inclined his head towards you, whispering out of the side of his mouth.

“I almost feel sorry for the idiot.”

If you could have, you would have elbowed him in the side. 

“Be nice.”

Soon, Camille left with Hector, and the Dwarfers had the pleasure of each other’s company once again. 

Kryten, clearly wishing to be alone for a while, bustled off to find a quiet part of the ship. The others went off to find some other form of entertainment, but Lister took your arm and asked if you fancied a trip to the cinema. Casablanca was playing tonight, one of his favourites.

With his feet propped up on the seat in front of him, Lister looked like the king of all he surveyed. He even managed to look magnanimous as he cracked open a lager and dove his hand into a bucket of popcorn.  

“Bet you’re glad you came home just in time to see that.”

You hummed, still processing all you’d seen and heard that day. ‘Home’ was a funny word for your situation. Funny but not inaccurate, you found. 

“Do you think Kryten will be okay?”

“We’ve still got some drinks left over from his send off. Don’t worry, we’ll cheer him up.” 

Lister raised his hand and opened his mouth to ask one of the scutters to start the movie, but a sudden thought stopped him.

“Hey, just now, when there was Camille, Hector and Rimmer all in the same room, you went and stood by our one.”

“Yeah? So?”

“How did you know which Rimmer was which?” 

You could have punched him, you really could have. Lister seemed to have made it his mission to humiliate you in as many ways as possible today.

You thought about lying but there didn’t seem to be much point.

“Our Rimmer was the only hologram.”

You hadn’t realised it at first, but when Lister first introduced you to Camille, their chameleonic image of Rimmer was an exact copy in every detail, except he didn’t have a ‘H’ in the centre of his forehead. You were so excited to see him, it took you a while to notice.

The same thing happened again down in the hangar. Three Rimmers, only one hologram.

Lister blew out a long breath.

“So the object of all your desires and wishes…”

You rolled your eyes. 

“Is a Rimmer I can touch. Yes, I’m aware of how selfish and pathetic that is.”

“It’s not selfish. It’s real.” 

“But still pathetic?”

“A bit, yeah. Still, I don’t think you should let it stop you.” 

Despite everything, Lister’s relentless cheeriness was encouraging. Your situation was rather dire, and the whole crew had a lot to grapple with day after day, so it helped to have someone as positive and hopeful as Dave Lister onboard. 

“You don’t?”

With an earnestness you really weren’t used to from your shipmates, Lister smiled.

“Nah, Rimmer’s mad about you,” he said, and genuinely seemed to mean it. “Take it from me. Tell the person you love that you love them while you can.”

You were glad it was dark in the cinema; Lister had seen you blush enough that day. 

“Thanks, Dave.”

“And, hey, you can always do a little parallel play, if you get too wound up. God knows, he needs a good shag.”

“Dave!”

“I’m just tryna help!”

Chapter Text

“Great,” scoffed The Cat. “So where does this leave us?

“It leaves us floating aimlessly in space, with no navigation and a rapidly diminishing emergency power supply.” 

Kryten only had a few facial expressions in his programming but he still managed to look grave as he said,

“It leaves us galloping up diarrhoea drive without a saddle.”

You blew out a long breath, trying to keep your heart at a steady pace. 

You’d had very little in the way of training before your first and only mission to the stars, just the basics so you’d know what to do in an emergency, where the meeting points were and how to fire up the escape pods. You couldn’t recall a protocol for if the ship’s computer suddenly decided to off-line and power down the ship, but then maybe no one could have predicted something so bizarre ever happening. 

“So how come Grand Canyon Nostrils is still here?” Cat said, jabbing a thumb in Rimmer’s direction. 

Lister nodded.

“Yeah, Rimmer hasn't been wiped!”

You glanced across at Rimmer, who had kept close to your side since things started to go topsy-turvy. You couldn’t be sure whose benefit this was meant to be for, but he looked frightened and was hiding it badly. 

“Holly must have linked him up to the emergency power supply.”

“Is that stable?” you asked, suddenly feeling sick. “What if there’s another power surge? We could lose him.”

It was funny. Just the other day, you’d finally found yourself settling into life on Red Dwarf, succumbing to the idea that this was home now and you should appreciate what you had, rather than wasting your life away longing for a home that no longer knew you. Now, it could all be taken away.

Time moved differently now. Weeks and months had passed, slowly but surely, silently melting into each other until, with a sudden jolt, you realised you’d spent two years had aboard Red Dwarf. You were fairly sure you wouldn’t even have noticed if Lister hadn’t thrown you an outrageous anniversary party. Rimmer had presented you with a badge to mark the occasion, two years of service. You wore it with pride. 

Two years aboard Red Dwarf. And you’d been thinking about Rimmer for more than half of that. Try as you might, the feeling wouldn’t go away. You’d come to accept that too after a while.

Chest aching, you wished you could reach out and take his hand now. But he, like the time that laughed at you, would only slip through your fingers. 

“I assure you, ma’am, it’s quite safe,” Kryten tried his best to smile, but he was still having trouble with that particular facial expression.

Lister frowned. 

“But isn't that an enormous drain?” 

“Yes, but if we switch off his projection unit, we wouldn't have enough emergency power to re-initialise him. Mr. Rimmer would be effectively dead.”

“Hey, things are looking up already!”

You opened your mouth to argue but Rimmer got there first. 

“Forget it,” he said firmly. “Whatever it is you're suggesting, forget it.”

“But the entire ship is running on emergency battery power only. With the oxygen recycler and minimal heating and lighting, I estimate that Lister, the Cat and the Lieutenant have approximately two months left. Without your drain on the power, they might last six.” Kryten shook his oddly-shaped head. “I'm sorry, sir.”

“Sorry?” Rimmer parroted. “Why are you sorry?”

“Well, Space Corps Directive 195 clearly states that in an emergency power situation, a hologrammatic crew member must lay down his life in order that the living crew members might survive.”

“Yes, but Rimmer Directive 271 states just as clearly, ‘No chance, you metal bastard’.”

“I beg you to reconsider, sir! Human history is resplendent with examples of such sacrifice.”

“Okay, okay, let’s all just calm down.” You raised your hands in the air, hoping to change the subject before a full-blown argument sparked. “No one’s sacrificing themselves, no one’s switching Rimmer off. We can find another solution.”

The Cat scoffed.

“Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’d throw us all under the bus for your boyfriend in a heartbeat!”

“Oi, hang on!” You couldn’t look at Rimmer for fear of turning an even more embarrassing colour. “That’s not true! I just don’t think we should jump to murder at the first sign of trouble!”

“Technically, ma’am, “killing” a hologram does not count as murder,” Kryten put in unhelpfully. 

Chest tight, you drew yourself up to your full height and levelled each of your crewmates with a hard stare.

“We are not! Switching! Him off!” you said, enunciating each word so there could be no doubt that that particular conversation was over before it could even begin.  

You felt a hand on your shoulder. Lister gave you a reassuring smile, as if to let you know he had your back, then gave you the faintest nod, telling you to stand down. It was only when he gently squeezed your shoulder and removed his hand that you realised you’d moved to stand in front of Rimmer, as if putting yourself between him and the others would protect him in some way. 

“Okay, okay, okay, easy kids, easy,” Lister said, always the diplomat. “Let’s not turn on each other, okay? We need a plan.”

“So what do we do now?” The Cat asked.

As Lister spoke, you stepped back to stand beside Rimmer. Your hands stayed balled into fists at your side. Just because he was a git and an arrogant bastard and a pompous arse didn’t mean he deserved to be switched off. And just because he wasn’t yours didn’t mean you couldn’t protect him. 

“Well, it's back to basics,” Lister said. “We've got no heat, no light, no power. We can't get any food out of the dispensing machines. We’re gonna have to scavenge for what we can find in the cargo decks. Without computers and technology, we're reduced to the level of primitives. All we've got is us, guys. Us and our own resourcefulness!”

The Cat rolled his eyes.

“My God, it's worse than I thought.”

Determined not to die, the Dwarfers split up and set about completing their given tasks. While The Cat and Lister went looking for food, you took Rimmer up to the bedrooms in search of warm clothes for those that needed them. 

The last residual energy from the dead engines was already starting to peter out, and the ship was icy cold. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tried to encourage some warmth into your muscles as you hunted through closets and chests of drawers for coats that might fit Lister and that Cat wouldn’t turn his keen nose up at. 

Rimmer followed close behind you. Unable to help search or carry anything, he was a bit of a spare part, but after the argument in the drive room, you were reluctant to let him out of your sight. 

He’d been awfully quiet since then. It was probably the longest Rimmer had gone without making a sharp criticism or snide comment in all the time you’d known him. It couldn’t be a good sign. 

Standing by the door, looking mopey and thoughtful, you wondered if he was simply quietly bemoaning his inability to help. It must be exhausting. The few hours you’d spent as a hologram were enough to last you a lifetime, you couldn’t imagine how it would feel knowing it’s all there was.

“You really don’t need anything?” you asked, pawing through the Captain’s extensive wardrobe. “Doesn’t your light bee get cold? I could try and fashion it a tiny woolly jumper?”

It was daft but you thought it might encourage a polite smile, at least.

Rimmer just stared emptily at the floor.   

“Or I could just carry you around in my pocket?”

You smiled. That usually did the trick but no, nothing. 

You sighed and turned back to the wardrobe, but before you could think of something else stupid to say, Rimmer finally spoke.

“You didn’t need to do that, you know.”

His voice was low, his eyes still downcast. He spoke so softly, you had to strain to catch every word. 

“Hm?”

You hummed, pretending not to know what he was talking about. You were just glad your back was turned and he couldn’t see the look on your face. 

Rimmer sighed. 

“Defend me. I can look after myself.”

“I know,” you said. “I just wanted to.”

Rimmer went quiet again for a moment, as if considering each of your words at great length. Then finally, he said,

“Because you like me.”

He seemed to be repeating the words to himself, rather than asking you a question. An affirmation, maybe. You’d told him enough times that you liked him, enjoyed his company, considered him a friend. Rimmer kept asking for reassurance and you happily gave it. After a lifetime of ridicule and disappointment, you weren’t surprised he found it so hard to accept. 

“Yes,” you said, shooting him a smile over your shoulder. “Ah ha!”

You pulled an enormous faux fur coat from the wardrobe and raised it high above your head triumphantly. You paraded around the room with it, before slipping it over your shoulders and tucking the sides under your armpits, trapping your body heat within.

“This is a winner, Arn. D’you reckon I’ll get to keep this one or will Cat wrestle it off me?”

At last, Rimmer smiled as you came towards him, if only faintly.  

“If we don’t solve this,” he said, his voice still soft and low. “You only have two months of oxygen. Maybe less.”

That wiped the smile from your face. Yes, it was a less than exciting prospect. You’d always seen Red Dwarf as your saviour, now it might be your undoing. Still, it was better than ending up like your old crewmates. And at least you’d die amongst friends.

“Looks that way. But I’m sure Kryten will think of something. There’ll be some way to generate our own supply or… Something. I don’t know.” 

Not for the first time, you cursed your lack of technical knowledge. Apart from the basics, you really had no idea what Kryten or Holly were talking about most of the time. Even Cat knew how to pilot Starbug. Unless someone needed a translator, you were completely useless. 

Even the title 'Lieutenant’ was gifted to you, when you were assigned to the Atalanta IV. That wasn’t to say you hadn’t worked hard to achieve it, and to keep it. A classical education and a keen mind for linguistics had got you far, but fat lot of good it was to you now. 

Rimmer bit his bottom lip, his eyes still fixed on the floor. 

“If they switched me off, you’d have a better chance,” he said quietly. 

Your expression hardened. 

“They’re not going to switch you off.”

“But if they did-”

“I won’t let them.”

Rimmer pulled in a breath. You wondered if his simulated heart was racing, just as yours was.

“I can’t…” 

He broke off. But you understood. You always did.

“I know.”

“I just- I need you to…”

“I know,” You smiled. “It’s okay, Arnie.”

“I would consider it,” Rimmer said, and finally met your gaze. “If you asked.”

His eyes. You couldn’t recall ever seeing them so soft, so open. Being honest and vulnerable was as difficult to Rimmer as it was to you, if not more so. This was a gift, this openness, a gift for your eyes only. 

“I wouldn’t ask,” you said. “Ever.” 

You couldn’t kiss him. You couldn’t slip your hands around his middle and pull him into you. You couldn’t even hold his hand. But you could show him how much he meant you, you could tell Rimmer in no uncertain terms that you weren’t going to let anything happen to him.

“I know but four months-”

“Is nothing. It’s just prolonging the inevitable.”

“But in that time you could-”

“I don’t want it. Not if it means losing you. So just… Accept that you have someone who cares about you and let’s figure a way out of this.”

Slowly, silently, Rimmer’s face softened, until finally, he was smiling at you properly. Again, it looked like he wanted to say something to you, something important, but now wasn’t the time. You didn’t think you could handle anything else huge and life-altering today. 

He seemed to feel the same way, so it surprised you when Rimmer took a step forward, his head inclined towards yours. He was so close, you could feel the faint hum of warmth coming off of him. 

“Still, I want to thank you somehow,” he murmured.

Fingers itching to reach out and touch him, you fought to hold his gaze. You deserved a medal for not looking at his mouth. 

“Get us out of this, Second Technician.”

Rimmer beamed. Finally, this was a language he understood. 

“Aye aye, Lieutenant.”

Five days passed and there was no improvement. 

The ship was so cold, those who could breathe could watch their breath curl through the air before dissipating into nothingness. You’d started taking turns on Rimmer’s old exercise bike, trying to churn up as much energy as you could, but it presented little results.

Finally, things were so desperate, the group had to ask Holly for help. Even in her dire state, she had a plan. 

You stared at the navicomp display, hoping one of your friends would understood it more than you did.

A beautiful hologrammatic representation of the quadrant danced before you. Two stars. The left had two planets revolving around it, one blue and one green. The second star had just one red planet orbiting it. 

“Let me get this straight…” Lister said as he watched the hologram display rotate. “Is she doing what I think she's doing?

The Cat shrugged.

“Why? What do you think she's doing?”

“Playing pool with planets.”

“Is that possible?” Rimmer asked, his nose wrinkling at the prospect. 

“Well, it's not going to work. It's completely insane. It's whacko. It's noodle-doodle.”

“I'm with you, buddy,” The Cat snorted. 

“No, not the idea, the shot! There's not enough side.”

“Side?"

“Yeah, side-spin. It's a complete mis-cue.”

“What are you drivelling about, Lister?” Rimmer sneered. “We're talking about a computer with an IQ in excess of 12,000.”

“Doesn't mean she can play pool. I can. Trust me. I know whereof I speak.”

“Dave,” you sighed. “We’re running out of time.”

“I promise you, that is a complete mis-cue. I say we chuck Holly's coordinates in the bin and let me take the shot.”

“What?” 

You laughed, assuming Lister was kidding.

Rimmer didn’t seem to find it as funny. 

“You’re mad,” he said. “There’s no way I’m letting you chance our lives on a hunch!”

“Just for once in your life, trust me!”

You could see Rimmer starting to panic now. He was supposed to be in charge. He was supposed to be taking care of his crew and they wouldn’t let him, they never let him. And now he had you to think about.

You could tell what was on his mind. Rimmer kept glancing at you, then at the fur coat you still had draped around your shoulders. You’d asked him to get you out of this mess, he didn’t want to let you down. 

“As senior officer onboard-”

“Actually,” The Cat cut in. “ Lefty is the senior officer.”

All eyes turned to you. 

You drew in a deep breath. It was the first time the boys had actually called upon your rank for the final say on a matter. It was petty, a way to put Rimmer in his place, so it left a bad taste in your mouth. Still, you had the attention of the room, you should use it. 

“I don’t know about this Dave.” You nodded at the holo-map. “I trust you but Holly knows what she’s talking about.”

This was considered only briefly before more arguing ensued. The boys bickered and bickered until finally, Rimmer called for a vote. A tie meant you went with Holly.

Lister, leaning against the wall as if this really were a pool hall in Liverpool, and not the diciest set of circumstances any of you had come across in your lives, simply smiled.

“Well, I vote for Dave ‘Cinzano Bianco’ Lister.”

“Cat?”

“Well, I agree with you, buddy,” said the Cat. 

Rimmer looked pleasantly surprised, but then he went on,

“But I'm voting for Doodoo Breath. The thing is, even though you're right, I could not bring myself to vote for someone with your dress sense.”

A muscle in Rimmer’s jaw twitched. He was furious, frightened, and outnumbered. And when he looked at you and spoke your name, your real name, you knew he was begging you to help him. 

“I…”

You pressed your lips together. You had to go with your gut, it was the most honest thing to do.

“I think Rimmer’s right. Holly’s done the calculations, we should trust her. Sorry, Dave.”

Lister shrugged to show there were no hard feelings. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Rimmer. Not while you still couldn’t hold his hand. 

“Down to you, Kryten,” he said urgently.

“Well, I agree it's insane and suicidal, sir. But I'm afraid I have to side with the human.”

Lister smacked his forearm, grinning.

“Brutal!”

Closing your eyes, you tried to tune into the humming of navicomp. Watching the planets spin around and around was starting to make you feel sick, though that may have been from the dizzying odds laid out before you.

When you opened your eyes again, the others had moved through to the flight deck and were starting up Starbug. You were alone with Rimmer.

His arms were folded, his eyes down again. He was chewing the inside of his cheek. You could guess what was bothering him because it bothered you too.

“He’s a git,” you said, just loud enough so that only Rimmer would hear it.

He didn’t look up.

“Lister?”

“Kryten. For saying that. You’re as human as me and Lister.”

When he still didn’t look at you, you waved a hand upwards, encouraging his attention towards you.

“Okay?” you said, hoping he’d hear in your voice just how important it was to you that he got that.

Rimmer finally met your eyes and after a moment, nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

Then, so softly you had to strain to hear him, he said, 

“Listen, if things go pear-shaped, I just wanted you to know-”

Your chest lurched. 

“Don’t do that, Arnie.”

“I just wanted to say…” He soldiered on, his mind made up. “It’s been really lovely knowing you. I… I think you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life.”

You stared at each other for a moment, weighing the silence that fell between you in your hands. He wanted to say more. You wanted to say more. You could both feel it. 

Emotionally stunted as he was, you could see that Rimmer was battling with something in his head, the same thing he hadn’t been able to say five days ago when you told him you’d keep him safe. He wanted to look after you too, and trusting Holly’s calculations was his way of doing that. And he’d been denied it. He must have been feeling as sick as you. 

“It’s going to be fine,” you said, though anyone could tell you were trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to reassure Rimmer. “We’re going to be fine.”

You couldn’t watch. 

Two beers downed, Lister stood by the navicomp hologram with a robotic pool cue cradled in his hands. As the planets swam, he lined up his shot. Nothing. Silence. And then… Bang!

Crammed together around one viewscreen, you watched as a solar flare leapt from the surface of the nearest star, washing the blue planet out of orbit.

You watched, breathless, as the planet span right into the other star, missing the white hole by about half the width of the screen.

Rimmer’s jaw hit the floor.

“He's missed.”

On the navicomp, the blue planet struck the orbiting red planet with a spark. The red planet too was displaced from its arc.

“We're finished!”

The hologrammatic red planet slingshotted out of its orbit and headed straight for the first star.

You watched, aghast, as it hit the green planet, which in turn ricocheted out of its orbit and straight toward the white hole.

Lister leapt into the air, his fists held high. 

“She rides!”

Rimmer, too annoyed to be pleased that you were going to live after all, stepped back and sighed. 

“You jammy goit.”

You were all too shocked to celebrate. 

“'Ere, what's goin' on? Where are we?”

The Dwarfers looked around as the computer screen lit up and Holly’s beautiful, single-digit IQ face sprang back into life.

“What happened to that plan to make me brilliant again?” she pouted.

“Of course!” cried Kryten. “Blocking up the white hole has eradicated its influence! The time it spewed into the universe no longer exists.” 

Rimmer glanced at you, perhaps wondering if you knew what the mech was on about, but you were just as clueless. 

“Meaning?”

“Well, basically, we occupy a redundant timeline. Reviving the toaster, making Holly a genius… None of this is going to have happened.”

“What about us? Are we just going to pop out of existence? Just gonna cease to be?”

“We will cease to be here, because none of this will have occurred. But we will exist back on Red Dwarf, before all this began. With, of course, no memory of these events, which, of course, never happened…”

As Kryten spoke, the walls around you slowly began to pale and fade, until finally vanishing altogether. A vast starfield enveloped you, the cold foreverness of space laid out all around you. You could almost reach out and touch them.

“And as these events never happened, we will have no memory of them…” Kryten went on gleefully. “In which case, Mr. Rimmer, sir, I should like to take this opportunity of saying that you are the most obnoxious, trumped-up, farty little smeghead it has ever been my misfortune to encounter!”

It would all be gone. In just a few seconds, everything that had happened between you and Rimmer would be lost. Already, you could feel your grip on reality slipping, as if you were slowly falling asleep, or maybe it was more like being pulled from a wonderful dream. 

You battled with your subconscious, trying to keep yourself in the here and now, in this timeline, where Rimmer knew that you would always put yourself between him and anyone who tried to hurt him, where he’d shown that he’d do anything to keep you safe. You couldn’t just let this time be taken from you, not without a fight, it wasn’t fair.

You turned to him. If this was all going to be lost, if these events would be undone and respooled into a different timeline, then you should make good use of it while you could.  

“And I’m in love with you,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady and calm despite the world crashing down around you.

Rimmer’s lips parted, his eyes wide. 

You smiled.

“I’ve been in love with you for months now. Years even. Just thought I’d mention it. Just in case I’m never brave enough again.”

Behind Rimmer, the stars were going out. You could see them all, blinking and bursting out of existence in his dark eyes. 

“In love with…” He shook his head, like he couldn’t understand what the words meant. “Wait-”

Humming gently to yourself, you wound your way through Starbug’s abdomen to the flight deck. 

Rimmer was sat at the controls, his hands at 10 and 2 as described in the little ship’s manual. He looked up as you came through to sit down in the co-pilot’s chair and smiled.

“Ready for landing, Lefty?”

You nodded eagerly. 

Below, a great forested plane rose up to greet you. Rimmer had seen it on the scanner and suggested a day trip. There would be rocks and mountains, forests and possibly animal life. It would be like taking a stroll through a national park on Earth, though here, the trees sprouted bright turquoise leaves and the waters were thick and dark as tar.

“Ready and raring, sir.”

You saluted him, then buckled in for landing. 

Rimmer smiled, and something in your chest nudged at you to tell him, to tell him what you’d only discovered about yourself just a day or so ago. 

I love you, you thought. I love you and you have no idea. 

But now wasn’t the time. Maybe in another world, in another life, another timeline, you might’ve been braver. But right now, you were going on an adventure with your friend, and that was enough for you.

Chapter Text

“Hey, little lady. Can you and me take a walk?”

You glanced sideways at Lister. He was beaming, of course. He was finding the whole thing too hilarious for words. 

Here you were, bracketed by Rimmers, one who was too neurotic to realise you adored him, and one who swaggered about, handsome and confident and unavoidably likeable. Somehow, you’d stumbled into some kind of personalised hell. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, already dreading what would come next. “Alright.” 

You followed Ace out into the corridor, just hoping this would be over quickly.

He really was strange to look at. He was completely identical to Rimmer, the same warm eyes, the same restless hands. They were both so expressive but their backs, pulled taught as if by an invisible string, hinted at a restrictive and lonely childhood. 

And yet, in a lot of ways, they could not have looked more different. It wasn’t just the amazing hair and the shiny gold spacesuit. Ace seemed taller somehow, his voice more sonorous. Perhaps it was just the confidence he oozed, something that Rimmer only seemed to have in buckets when he was absolutely sure about something he ultimately knew absolutely nothing about.

But despite everything, despite the bravery and the technical knowhow, the kindness and debonair charm, he didn’t make your chest flutter like Arnold did. 

Still, you weren’t blind. It was still difficult to have a conversation with Ace without sounding like a babbling fool, everyone seemed to have the same trouble. And now you were alone with him for the first time in a dimly lit corridor, and the last time you’d seen a smile like that, it was when you were playing Better Than Life.

“Are you off then?” you asked, hoping he wouldn’t catch the way your voice cracked nervously. 

Ace sighed, as if leaving Red Dwarf was the biggest heartbreak of his life and not, in actuality, a frankly enormous relief. 

“‘Fraid so, sweetheart. There’s a lot of worlds out there. Someone’s gotta make sure things are ticking over nicely.”

You should hate him. You knew you should. He just wasn’t real. No one was that charismatic. No one could seriously go around being that heroic and sauve, and not come off as a huge, smarmy git. And yet, you found yourself thinking, what a guy…

“Well, it was great meeting you. Weird but…” You smiled and stuck out your hand. “Good luck.”

Ace took your hand and shook it firmly, like a good pilot should.

“Cheers, darling.” 

In the brief moment that his palm was pressed to yours, you tried to capture the moment in your mind, the feeling of his skin against yours, the length of his fingers, the warmth of him, the strength in his movements. You knew it was weird, but if this was the closest you’d get to touching Rimmer, you wanted to make the most of it. 

“Say, listen,” Ace looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming, then bent his head towards you, his voice low. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this all day, sweetheart. Been so damn busy with your brilliant crewmates, just haven’t had the time. But the you that I know, the you from my dimension, she’s…”

“Oh, God. She’s dead, isn’t she.”

The idea had been humming about your brain ever since Ace first burst into Starbug. There was another Lister, another Cat, even another Kryten in his world. Ace hadn’t mentioned anything about the other you. He was right, there hadn’t really been time. Between fixing the starboard engine and getting Starbug up and running again, you hadn't exactly had much of a chance for smalltalk. 

Part of you had worried something terrible had happened to her. She must have gone down with the Atalanta IV. But then, how would Ace know her if this other you had never stepped foot inside Red Dwarf? The tangents and timelines were all too bizarre and unwieldy. It was the type of thing that made your head hurt if you focused on it for too long. 

Ace smiled. It was a very nice smile. Rimmer sometimes smiled at you like that. Just you, no one else.

That was another difference. Ace had time and a good word for everyone. Rimmer was so sparing with his kindness, it had put you off him when you first met. Now you knew him better, now you understood him, or at least, you were starting to, it made you all the more proud to be the person he reserved his softer side for. 

“No, no,” Ace said. “She’s very much alive. What a lady. She’s the pride of the Space Corp., you know. But, uh, I’m afraid to say she hates my guts.”

Your jaw dropped.

“No way.”

“It’s true!” Ace shrugged, still smiling. “She won’t even look at me.”

“What did you do!”

Ace laughed.

“I don’t know! She just never has time for me, sweetheart. Always something better to do than talk to boring old me. She’s a navigation officer, you see, and a damn good one. Doesn’t have time for an old pirate, and I don’t blame her.”

“Well… Wow…” 

You tried to picture this other woman, this other you. She must be quite a person to be immune to Ace’s charms. Even Holly found him beguiling.

You imagined a fearsome figure, an officer at the helm of one of the most important ships in the JMC’s fleet. It was a life you could never see for yourself but, by Io, you couldn’t be more pleased for her.

“She must be the only person you’ve ever met who didn’t like you.”

You must’ve done a terrible job of hiding just how happy the thought made you because Ace laughed again, a great booming laugh that was so un-Rimmer, for a moment you forgot they were practically the same man. 

“So far,” Ace said, ever self-effacing. “She’s about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I keep trying to work up the damn courage to ask her out to dinner but she just won’t talk to me.”

“You’re joking. You? Shy?”

“It’s been known to happen, sweetheart. I’m a sensitive old sod, really.”

You couldn’t imagine anyone saying no to Ace. Hell, you thought Lister would probably let him wine and dine him, given half the chance. 

“But the way I figure it is,” Ace went on. “The way things seem to work here, events seem to be a little backward. It must mean that you and old Arnold, there…”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head so quickly you almost made yourself dizzy. “No, no, no. We’re not-”

Ace raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. 

“But you love him?”

You made an embarrassing choking noise in the back of your throat. God, you wished everyone would stop saying that. It was getting embarrassing. 

“I never said-”

“You didn’t have to. The reason I ask is, well, it seems to me that my alternate self is, unfortunately, a bit of a bastard.”

“Yeah,” you said fondly.

“I need someone to look after him. I won’t be coming back here. I wanna make sure all the Rimmers out there are living as best they can. Can you help me with that?”

Mortified. You were completely mortified. But, you supposed, it was sweet of Ace to ask. You just wished you weren’t so obviously in love with such an idiot. 

“I’ll do my best. And Ace? About the alternate me… I like films. And plants. And going for walks. Not exactly thrilling, I know, but… Maybe she does too?”

Ace looked down at the floor, and if you hadn’t been so distracted by his great hair, you might’ve seen a flash of sadness cross his face. 

“I can’t go back to my dimension. I’ll never see her again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Nevermind, hey, sweetheart. Ever onwards, as they say. Plenty more fish in the sea. It just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe there’s a dimension out there where we’re together.” Ace smirked. “Maybe this is it.”

Shaking your head, you tried to resist smiling, but it really was impossible when Ace was concerned. 

“I’ll let you know.”

After Ace left, the ship felt tense and quiet. 

It took you until late that evening to figure out what was so off. While the others were still gushing about how wonderful Ace was, Rimmer hadn’t spoken to anyone all afternoon. He didn’t even break his silence to bark orders at Kryten or chastise Lister for clipping his toenails in the kitchen. 

It took you ages to find him. Wandering through A Deck, you called his name, poking your head in every room, but there was no sign of him. B, C and D Deck presented the same disappointing results. 

Half exhausted from your trek, you considered giving up and just going to bed. It was late and Rimmer clearly didn’t want to be found, so why push it? Then you remembered what he’d said to you that night, when he described the hypothetical date he’d take you on. 

The stairs up to the observation dome clanged underfoot, announcing your arrival long before you reached the summit. Your suspicions proved correct. You caught Rimmer scrambling to his feet. He’d been laying on his back, watching the stars, before you startled him. 

He watched you, his brow furrowed slightly, like he was waiting for you to make fun of him. The thought hurt so you pushed it away. 

“Hey, Arn,” You tried to smile. “Fancy a game of chess? Everyone else’s gone to bed so we’ve got the mess to ourselves.”

His eyes lowered to somewhere over your shoulder. Rimmer was silent but you could see his jaw working. His tongue poked irritably at the inside of his cheek, like he was investigating an achy gum. 

“How was your date with Captain Flash?” he said eventually.

You rolled your eyes. You should’ve seen that coming, that one was on you. 

“We just went for a walk, Arn. He’s nice. If a little…” You floundered for the right word before deciding he’d already pinned it down nicely. “Flash.”

Rimmer raised his eyebrows but said nothing, his tongue still pressing against the backs of his teeth. 

“It’s funny,” You went on, even though the waters were starting to get choppy. “He told me there’s a version of me in his world too. And you’ll love this, she hates him.”

You thought that might cheer him up a little. Or, at the very least, make him smile or even laugh, it didn’t matter if it was scornful. 

Rimmer’s lip did curl but only with disdain. 

“Shocking.”

“Fancies her like mad, of course. But, hey, who can blame him?” 

Still nothing. Rimmer’s gaze stayed somewhere over your shoulder. You wondered if that was simply where it felt safest to look right now. Staring at the ground or looking you in the eye would give too much away. 

After a beat of silence, you wondered if you should just leave him to sulk. The stairs back down to the safety of the ship were looking more and more attractive, but you’d never been able to let sleeping dogs lie. 

“Ace said he wanted to speak to you, before he went,” you said, slowly and steadily. “I think you should’ve gone to see him, Arn. I think he wanted to say goodbye to you properly.”

“Oh, he’s ‘Ace’ now, is he?” Rimmer sneered.

Baffled, you shook your head. 

“That’s his name!”

“His name is Arnold. And what would I have to say to that goit? And since when did you become his carrier pigeon? Got you all wrapped around his finger like he has the others, has he?”

“Why are you being such a twat?”

“I’m not!”

“You are!” You took a breath, forcing yourself to lower your voice. “You’ve been a snarky bastard ever since he turned up. What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong! Him! He’s wrong!”

“He’s you, Rimmer.”

“He’s not me. He’s everything I could be but I was never given the chance!”

Something chimed in the back of your head, a voice telling you to take a step back and really think about what he meant by that. 

It had been a long time since you argued with Rimmer, and even though it was often a wonderful source of entertainment, especially since you always won, this felt different. This mattered. And now your relationship was different (even if neither of you seemed to know in what way) you felt strangely responsible for Rimmer. You knew you were the only person in the whole wide universe who would care enough to ask why it hurt.

“Arn, please.” You stepped closer like you were approaching a scared animal, not wanting him to feel hemmed in. “Just talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Rimmer withdrew into himself as you came closer, still avoiding your gaze. Keeping his back straight and his chin high seemed to be a kind of armour, probably something his father had drilled into him at a young age. 

“He had the schooling. He had better parents. He had the relationships and the girls and the looks and the prospects. He has everything I’ve ever wanted and worst of all, everyone loves him! He was only here five minutes and you all fawned over him like everything he touched turned to gold.”

“Rimmer,” You tried to keep your voice steady but your patience, after a long, tiring day, was incredibly fragile. “He had the same schooling as you. The same parents as you. He’s had everything you had, things just happened differently for him.”

“And that’s-”

“And that must be hard to watch, I know. But all this stuff you blame for the way you are, it all happened a million years ago. No, sorry, three million years ago. Everyone who bullied you is long dead.” 

Rimmer snorted.

“Well, not everyone,” you conceded. “But everything that held you back and knocked your confidence is stardust now. There’s no excuse, Arn. Every time you criticise and run away and cheat and lie, it’s your choice.”

Silence fell hard. Such deafening, awful silence. It was suddenly abundantly clear to you that no one had ever spoken to Rimmer like that, and you didn’t know if you were the right person, or the last person in the world who should be putting him in his place. 

Rimmer seemed just as shocked. 

“Why are you doing this?” He barely got the words out from between his clenched teeth. “I thought you were my friend.”

“Rimmer, I am! That’s why I’m telling you! No one else will! They've just accepted that you’re a mardy bastard who’s never going to change but I’m not gonna let you get away with blaming everybody else for your mistakes.”

Something shifted in his face. A chink had appeared in Rimmer’s otherwise impervious armour. You thanked every star that sailed slowly by above your heads. 

“You have friends, Arn. You have a purpose here. You have a second chance at life and I just- I worry that you’re squandering it.”

Rimmer’s nose wrinkled. You thought he might cut you down with an acerbic comment or even simply storm off. You wouldn’t blame him. Between Ace turning up, beautiful and resplendent, and you shouting at him, it had been a bit of a day for Rimmer. 

When he spoke at last, his voice was lower and more grave than you’d ever heard it. 

“What would you know about it?”

“I know you.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

He spoke quickly, spitefully, defensive beyond reasonable thought. 

You sucked in a sharp breath. Heart hammering, you tried to remember that Rimmer was afraid and dismally bad at articulating what was going on inside his head. For someone who so desperately tried to bottle up his feelings, he wore his heart so vividly on his sleeve, and yet couldn’t describe what he saw there. 

“Maybe you’re right,” you said quietly.

It seemed to bring Rimmer back into the room and remember who he was talking to. You watched his eyes as they switched about restlessly. Why did he have to hurt himself so much? When the whole universe seemed against him, why did he have to be his own cruel antagonist?

“I’m sorry,” Rimmer murmured. “I don’t think I’m the person you want me to be.”

Your chest felt like it could cave in. 

Above your heads, the endless night sky seemed darker and emptier than ever. But if you tried, you could almost imagine you were home, back on Callisto or maybe on Io, where Rimmer grew up. Just the next moon. You’d missed him by a star-hop and found him again, against all odds, three million years from everything you had both ever known. 

“You think I want him?” 

“Why not? He’s actually real.”

“You’re real.”

“I’m not. I’m-”

“You’re real, Arnold.”

“He’s me but better.”

The idea was so painful, you couldn’t even laugh at it. Ace was great, he was handsome and brave and a whole skein of other positive adjectives, but he wasn’t yours.

“You’re so daft, Rimmer. You’re so stupid sometimes it makes me wanna scream.”

“Thanks, that really helps.”

“I just don’t know how else to show you that I care about you. You’re so important to me. It makes me so sad, Arn, I-”

Your voice cracked. It surprised you both. 

Rimmer’s face finally softened. His shoulders went slack, like someone had cut all the strings keeping him upright. The voices in his head were finally quiet. His jealousy had been snuffed out. At last, you were the only people in the room. 

“I’m not…” Rimmer raised a hand and curled his fingers towards his chest, until they tightened into a fist, almost like he wanted to hit himself. “I’m not worth all the trouble it takes to like me.”

Heart thudding, you drew in a shaky breath and tried very hard not to show just how much it hurt to know he thought that way. You wondered if the idea had always been there, a hissed, rasping voice that gnawed away in the back of his mind, or if it had taken the shock of today to make the thought clunk into place. 

You stepped closer. He was only a hand’s breadth away now, not that it mattered. You couldn’t touch him, couldn’t slip your fingers through his, couldn’t hold his face in your hands as you said,

“You’re not hard to love, Arn.”

“I am. I am, I’m too much work.”

“Not to me.”

Rimmer’s eyes turned glassy, and you wondered if it was possible for holograms to cry. But the moment was gone as quickly as it appeared. Rimmer looked away and cleared his throat. When he looked back, the shine was gone. 

“I’m…” His jaw worked awkwardly, like someone had punched it out of place. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You tried to smile but it didn’t meet your eyes. “I’m sorry too. You’re right, he’s not you. I shouldn’t have said that. And anyway, he’s not that great. He’s got a daft hairdo.”

Rimmer seemed to perk up considerably at that. He even managed a laugh that didn’t sound completely contemptuous.

With a sigh, he looked around before deciding to sit back down on the floor. You didn’t get a chance to wonder if that meant he was done with the conversation and wanted to be alone. Rimmer held up his hand, inviting you to sit down beside him. Cold and hard as the floor was, you followed without complaint.

You gazed up at the stars together, your arms behind you, supporting your weight, your legs stretched out on the rust-red floor.

You were so close, the agony of not being able to touch him felt worse than ever. If you just tilted your head to the side, you could rest it on his broad shoulder. If you let your foot lean to the left, the toe of your boot would brush his. His hip was almost against yours, his arm, his ribs, his thigh. Almost, almost, but never. 

“Nice spaceship though,” Rimmer said after a moment.

You shrugged, making a non-committal noise.

“Eh, it’s not all that. ‘Ere, did you know there’s only three words in the English language that begin with ‘DW-’?”

Rimmer looked thoughtful for a moment.

“I didn’t. Only three? Surely not.”

“Not slang and nothing not in common use. Only three.”

“Is that what they taught you at university?”

You shot him a wry smile.

Rimmer’s distaste for your lack of cadet training and animosity whenever your five years at Callisto’s top university came up were still as strong now as the day you met. But you liked it. It made you laugh, and you needed grounding. He was cute when he was annoyed about how impressed he was by you. 

“Amongst other things, Second Technician.” 

“There’s another thing. Is the other you a lieutenant too? What if she’s doing even better? Don’t you feel even a bit jealous of her? I mean, she’s out there, thriving and having fun and meeting people and- I don’t know.” 

Rimmer sighed, then added, 

“Dwell.”

“Yep, two more.” You smiled. “And… A bit,” you admitted. “But I guess I’m pleased there’s a me out there who’s having a laugh. But then I am too. And it’s not all good for her. She hates her Rimmer. I really quite like mine.”

He turned his head. Now, he was so close, you could almost press your lips to his. Just a few inches, that’s all it would take. And a bit of bravery. And several great feats of technological advance. 

He really did have quite a nice mouth when he wasn’t sneering and grumbling. You wondered what it would feel like to have Rimmer moaning against your lips, pressed so close, his nose ended up crammed against your cheek, his chest rising and falling raggedly under your hands. 

Your time in Better Than Life was supposed to sate your curiosity, to give you just enough to get over the ache in your heart. But if anything, it had only made it worse, and not a day went by where you didn’t catch yourself daydreaming about Rimmer’s needy, clumsy hands, and the rumble of his voice against your throat. 

Io, it was agony. He was right there, and he liked you, you knew he did. You could push him onto his back right here, right now, and he’d go so easily, you just knew it, and all the while he’d be whimpering and whining your name, those big, ungainly hands touching you everywhere. 

“I would perhaps avoid calling me ‘your Rimmer’,” he said. “Makes me sound like a new kind of sex toy.”

You blinked, face burning. Panic shot through but quickly cooled again. He hadn’t read your mind, he was just making a silly joke to fill the silence, to make you laugh. Still, it was funny he should say that. It reminded you of that funny fantasy you’d had about straddling him and using his buzzing light bee as- Well, it didn’t matter now.

“Noted,” you managed to get out.

“Anyway, I like when you call me ‘Arnie’.”

“Yeah?” 

He’d never told you that before. 

“My parents called me ‘Arnold’. Or ‘idiot’. Everyone else just calls me ‘Rimmer’. Or ‘idiot’. You’re the only one who calls me ‘Arnie’.”

You beamed. 

“My Arnie.”

You really couldn’t have sounded more unbearably wistful if you tried. If he noticed, Rimmer didn’t give anything away. But he was still looking at you, watching you, waiting, you thought, for you to say something else. But the starlight in his hazel eyes was enough to make you forget your own name, and you thought about those words again and again, my Arnie, my Arnie, my Arnie…

He turned his gaze back to the stars, tilting his chin back until you could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.   

“Are you going to be alright, Arn? You know you can always talk to me, don’t you?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, and you let him for now. “I just- For once, I just want someone to be proud of me. The way you all looked at him…”

“I’m proud of you, Arn.”

Rimmed sighed. 

“You have to say that, you’re my friend. Oh, dwindle?”

Shaking your head, you waved your hand in front of his face. It was the nearest equivalent you had to taking his arm and turning him to look at you, or wrapping your fingers around his jaw and turning his head, something you thought about often. 

“Listen to me, Arn,” you said seriously. “You are the most disciplined, organised, dedicated, hard working man I have ever met. You make sure Lister stays alive, you keep everyone safe, and you’ve had this voice in your head your whole life telling you that you’re not good enough, but you still try. I’m proud of you, Arnie. I think you’re amazing.”

Beneath the shiny green material of his uniform, Rimmer’s chest was rising and falling heavily, shuddering ever so slightly with every inhale. Again, you wondered if it was possible for holograms to cry, and if Rimmer would even let himself if he could. 

“But I’m also a smeghead,” he said quietly, but he was smiling, just a tiny smile, but something. 

You hummed, tilting your head, and watched his gaze follow your movements.

“Hmm, sometimes. And a coward. And you’re arrogant. And a self-serving pain in the arse.”

“Are you new to this whole ‘cheering up’ thing, darling?”

“But we all are. In one way or another.” You shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much you loved it when he called you that. “You’re only human.” 

“You’re the only one who makes me feel like I am.” 

Rimmer watched you for a moment, worrying the inside of his cheek, then finally, he sat up straight.

“Could you do something for me? Go like this?” 

He crossed his arms over his chest and hugged himself, his fingertips pressing into his own sides. Rimmer’s cheeks were tinged pink. 

You copied him, hugging yourself tight. You tried to imagine it was Rimmer’s arms wrapped around you. You could almost feel his hands splayed on your back, keeping you close to his broad chest. It was heaven.

“You’re a soppy old git really, aren’t you, Arn. No, no! Don’t stop,” you said when he began to lower his arms. “Can you do the same?” 

Rimmer smiled and hugged himself again. 

You looked at each for a moment until you couldn’t resist any longer.  

“This is so stupid.”

“A bit.” Rimmer laughed. “Nice though.”

“Yeah.” 

You still didn’t lower your arms. Neither did he. 

“When we get you a body, the first thing I’m gonna do is hug you.”

“Or punch me.”

“Depends how much of an idiot you’re being at the time.” 

Rimmer, despite himself, still looked quite pleased.

He finally dropped his arms and turned his gaze back to the sky. 

“Thanks, Lefty.”

Heart jittering, you rested your hands back on the floor. Your left passed through his right, your fingers entwined. He didn’t move away and neither did you. 

“Anytime, Arn.”

You were silent for a while, then you heard Rimmer inhale, as if he was about to speak. You swallowed hard, your chest suddenly tight, wondering what on Jupiter he might be about to say. 

“What was the last word?”

“I- What?”

“The third word beginning with ‘DW-’.”

“Dwarf, Rimmer.”

“Oh, for Io’s sake.”

Chapter Text

With a buzz of shimmering static, low and unsettling, a shape appeared in the mess. It wobbled and wavered for a few seconds before finally settling into a familiar form. Then, at last, Rimmer was back on Red Dwarf. 

The ship he’d called home for the last few years of his life was so much darker than the Enlightenment; he had to blink and blink until his eyes adjusted to the grungy, spartan gloom.

You were in the next room when you heard the strange sound. Heart hammering, you hoped it meant what you thought it did. Then you heard Rimmer call out your name.

You dropped what you were doing immediately and ran into the mess, so excited you almost fell straight through him. 

Too surprised to hide your sheer joy, you almost sobbed at the sight of him. 

“You’re back!” 

You were making dinner when it happened. The boys had all come rushing into the kitchen, shouting and hollering that this weird ship had appeared and kidnapped Rimmer. Though The Cat and Kryten didn’t seem all that bothered, Lister was half frantic as he explained what had happened. 

You’d spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what on Io was going on, and how you could get Rimmer back. Your only shred of hope was that he was a hologram and therefore fairly difficult to harm, but all they had to do was damage his light bee or move out of range of Red Dwarf, and he’d be gone. It didn’t even bear thinking about. 

But he was home. He was safe. He was here.

You reached out with both hands, forgetting in your excitement that it was impossible to wrap them around him. Instead, you settled for waving them up and down beside Rimmer’s arms, the closest you could get to holding him.

“Oh, thank God, you’re home. I was so worried about you, Arn. I was having kittens.”

“Now that I’ve gotta see,” said Cat as he and the others joined you in the mess. 

They immediately swarmed him with questions. You tried to join in but you couldn’t take your eyes off Rimmer. Unable to feel him, squeeze him, pull him into you, it was the only thing you could do to make sure he was really here, that he was safe. 

He was unusually quiet, but if you’d been abruptly teleported to a strange ship and subjected to Io knows what for hours, while your friends waited anxiously back on Red Dwarf, you knew you would be shaken up too. 

“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” you asked.

At last, Rimmer smiled.

“No! No, it- It was brilliant. They’re holograms, they’re all holograms.” He shook his head in amazement. “I could feel, I could eat, I could-  I could have a purpose. And there’s this amazing woman. A Commander. She’s going to help me get a place there. On the ship!”

“They’re-” You closed your eyes, trying to process the sudden deluge of upsetting information. “Wait, what?”

Rimmer was grinning now, his eyes alight with excitement. 

“I’m going to be an officer. Me! At last!” 

As the news slowly sank in, your stomach twisted and wrenched into knots. Suddenly, you couldn’t pull in a full breath. Your throat was so tight, you couldn’t speak for fear of being sick. 

You were faintly aware of the boys talking all around you, but all sound had wound down to a faint hum, then a whine, like someone had sharply boxed your ears. The muscles in your arms and shoulders tensed, and you couldn’t resist shivering as anxiety crept through you.

Finally, you managed to get out, 

“You can’t do that.”

Rimmer looked down at you. He frowned, confused. 

“Why not? They’re like me, Lefty. They understand me, they can touch me. With a bit of elbow grease and the right amount of obsequiousness, I could rise through the ranks in no time!”

There was a profound ‘clang’, a sickening dull ‘thunk’. The final nail. 

“Touch you,” you whispered, suddenly voiceless. 

Lister seemed to realise what that meant at the same time as you did. 

“That woman,” He smiled, oddly proud. “You and her, you, er..?”

Rimmer smirked.

“A gentleman never tells, Listy.” 

Stuck fast in denial, you almost managed to convince yourself that Rimmer was lying, a show of bravado in front of the boys, but then Lister wrapped his fingers around yours, and it all came crashing down. Even though he was standing behind you, you could guess the expression on his face. You couldn’t bear to look.

It was suddenly very quiet in the mess.

Rimmer was staring at you in that way of his, with his brows all furrowed and his mouth slightly open. It was a look you knew well. You saw it just last week, when you’d dared to flirt with him while you were loading up the cargo bay together and his arms had looked particularly good, and only yesterday, when you declared that you wanted to be on his team for the Red Dwarf Annual Crazy Golf Tournament. Rimmer always looked at you like that when he couldn’t for the life of him believe that you actually liked him. 

You just stared back. It dawned on you that Rimmer didn’t understand why you weren’t more excited for him. And now there was this woman, this amazing, clever woman, and they’d… 

Rimmer was still watching you, and you still hadn’t said anything. Could you speak? You weren’t sure. Your tongue felt heavy and useless, and your throat felt too tight to get any words out. At last, you managed a miserable and feeble,

“Oh.”

Rimmer didn’t get a chance to respond. The Cat snorted. 

“What makes you think they’d take you, Cartwheel Nostrils?” 

“Actually, I just have to pass the exam and I’m in!” 

“Oh, yeah?” Lister scoffed. “And how are you going to do that?”

They barely noticed when you quietly slipped out. Or maybe they did and thought it best to let you have some time alone. You could only bear to listen to Rimmer banging on about how wonderful the Enlightenment was for a few minutes before it all became too much.

Flopping down on your bed, you stared at the underside of the top bunk and tried to make sense of it all. 

That morning, you couldn’t have imagined anything more painful than learning that Rimmer had been stolen away by that strange ship. It put a fire in you. You swore to yourself that if he came back, if you ever saw him again, you would tell him how you felt. Now you knew what it felt like to lose him, silently loving him seemed so pointless. 

But now there was something much worse, something so painful, you couldn’t put it into words. And no one would understand, no one would understand just how much you were hurting, and the one person you wanted to tell was an idiot who’d gone and slept with a wonderful woman, who was clever and brilliant and could apparently understand him better than you ever could. 

You angrily brushed away a stray tear. How pathetic. 

It’s why you hadn’t told him, it’s why you kept your feelings to yourself, why you still only dreamt of slipping into Rimmer’s lap while he was at Starbug’s helm and kissing him so deeply, he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth, why you still woke up gasping for breath in the middle of the night, his name on your lips. Not anymore though. It seemed you’d finally found the cure for your feelings.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there. Time moved strangely aboard Red Dwarf. At one point, you thought you heard familiar footsteps approaching and tensed, preparing for an argument, but whoever it was didn’t knock. After a moment, they walked away again, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. 

Not long after, Lister came to visit you. He knocked tentatively on the door before punching in the key code.

“He’s off,” he said.

You ignored him. 

Lister didn’t move. He just stayed in the doorway and waited. You supposed that meant he thought you’d jump up and run to Rimmer’s side, maybe even confess your feelings and tell him he should stay. But you didn’t stir. You just pretended to be asleep and waited for Lister to go. 

After a while, you heard him sigh.

“Alright, suit yourself. But he’s asking after you.”

Then he was gone.

You kept your eyes closed, waiting for the room to fall silent. The catch on the door hissed shut. Lister’s footsteps faded away. And you were alone again. 

“Ask all you like,” you muttered into the darkness. “Enjoy your stupid holoship. See if I care.”

When you left home, books were seen as passé, ephemeral, past tense. Now, three million years in deep space, they were practically extinct, which made them a precious commodity, at least to you. 

Red Dwarf’s second in command had been a keen collector before her untimely death. Her own personal library had been installed onboard before the ship left for the stars. 

Your new crewmates weren’t exactly bibliophiles, so you often had the room to yourself. Though you’d read every book at least once, you still holed yourself up in the library whenever you needed some time to yourself. 

It was peaceful here, with just the books for company. You thought you might find some comfort there but it was proving difficult. Settled comfortably in a squashy armchair, you propped your chin up on your balled-up fist and tried to focus on the book you’d pulled from the shelf. Try as you, you couldn’t stop thinking about Rimmer.

You were so angry at him. So angry at him for leaving his friends without a second thought. Angry at him for lying and cheating his way onto a ship with a better future than yours. Angry at him for meeting and sleeping with a woman, while you were back on Red Dwarf worried out of your mind. Angry at yourself for not telling him how you felt sooner, because maybe all this could have been avoided, and he would be home with you, reading something painfully boring about cars or Napoleon’s armies beside you. 

He’d only been gone a day. It felt like forever. Would you be angry forever too? 

A sharp buzz by your ear set your teeth on edge. With a huff, you swung your palm round and pressed it against the intercom with perhaps more force than necessary. 

“What?”

“You can stop your sulking now,” Lister’s voice was cracked and distorted, so you almost couldn’t believe you’d heard him correctly when he said, “He’s back. And still asking for you.”

Back. He was back already. They must’ve seen through him. Maybe he’d failed the exam after all. Well, you thought, serves him right. Serves him right for lying and scheming to get what he wanted. You had no sympathy for him at all. 

Except… He was back. Rimmer was back. He was home. And you were still so furious with him. So why did you want to cry?

“Er, Lefty? You okay?”

You stared at your own hand. You were still pressing the button on the intercom. 

“Fine! I’m fine. I’m-” 

You trailed off. Mind whirring, you tried to pinpoint exactly what you were feeling but there were too many emotions fighting for control at once. 

“Well, he’s on his way up to you,” Lister’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“What? Why!”

“He wants to see ya!”

“Why did you tell him where I am!”

“Listen, he’s had a tough day, love. He needs someone soft to talk to.”

You sneered, as if Lister were able to see it. You resented being a comfort to the idiot, not now, not after everything he’d done. Rimmer didn’t deserve your kindness, and he certainly had some gall to come looking for it. 

You jammed your thumb harder against the intercom. 

“Lister, I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Oh, grow up. We’re the only three humans left in existence, we need to get on with each other.”

“But he-”

“I know what he did, man. But he adores you. Honest.”

You snorted.

“Funny way of showing it.”

“Look, get off the coms. I’m trying to watch telly. You and your boyfriend kiss and make up, and come down and join us when you’re done.”

The line went dead. You jabbed at the intercom, trying to get him back, but Lister ignored you. 

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. No sooner had Lister hung up than the library door swished open.

Rimmer hung in the doorway for a moment, as if waiting for permission, then carefully stepped into the room. 

You lowered your gaze to your book as Rimmer slowly approached. You couldn’t see him, but his footsteps sounded tentative and uneasy, like he was afraid to talk to you. 

You waited until the toe of his boot came into view over the edge of your page to speak.

“You’re back, then.”

There was a beat. You’d probably caught him off-guard.

Rimmer hesitated, then finally said,

“Yes.”

His reticence annoyed you. Looking up, you saw he was in a brand new uniform, plush and shiny. Even his ‘H’ was different. Only his eyes were the same. 

“Your scheme failed then, did it?” You closed your book with a snap. “They found you out?”

Your words had more venom than you intended but you didn’t care. He deserved it. The boys might’ve forgiven him, said live and let live, but you were hurt and you wouldn’t let him get away with that. 

“Actually, no,” Rimmer cleared his throat awkwardly. “I passed.”

“Then why are you here?”

Rimmer looked away. 

Despite yourself, the tightness in your chest gave way ever so slightly. You’d almost convinced yourself that he’d had a change of heart, that Rimmer was sorry, that he’d realised he’d been an idiot and come back to you, maybe even realised that he cared about you more than he did himself. But you should’ve known. 

“That woman, my friend, Nirvanah Crane…” 

Rimmer’s eyes fogged with memory. It made your stomach lurch. 

“She was my challenger. If I’d stayed, I would've taken her place onboard. I… I couldn’t do that to her.” 

Suddenly, you felt all your sickness and pain vanish, and in its place came a wave of resentment. You couldn’t recall ever being so angry in all your life. 

“What,” you spat. “Cos you love her?” 

“No, no, she was just…” Rimmer still hadn’t met your eyes properly. “Kind to me.”

Something in you snapped. It had been so easy to leave you but he couldn’t bear to hurt a woman he’d only known for a day. You’d spent years defending Rimmer from the others and it had all been a colossal waste of time. He really was a slimy, inconsiderate moron, just like they warned you.

“Well,” You stood up and threw your book onto the armchair. “More fool her.” 

You wished you could have barged past him, but you had to settle for making sure your shoulder pushed through his as you moved to the door. A spiteful thought crossed your mind, you could try and knock out his light bee while you were at it, but it seemed too vindictive.

You had almost reached the door when Rimmer called out,

“I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”

You wheeled around, eyes and mouth wide.

“Pleased? You left us, Arnold.”

“For something better! I thought you’d be happy for me!”

“Something- Do you hear yourself?”

Rimmer shifted uncomfortably.

“I thought you of all people would understand.”

“Well, you were wrong. What you did was-” 

You were shouting now, which you hated. It made you seem unreasonable, like you had no control. But you couldn’t seem to get a lid on your anger and Rimmer’s stupid flared nostrils were only aggravating you more. 

“It was- You- God knows you’ve had your moments, Rimmer, but this is a new low. Leaving your crew?”

“Oh, come off it.” Rimmer rolled his eyes. “They were choosing my replacement the moment I decided to leave Red Dwarf!”

He looked furious too. His back was straighter, his chin held high, and he kept waving his hands about, pointing and pontificating like this was an argument he could win, and not you just trying to explain that he hurt you.

“You left us first! We’re your friends, Rimmer! We care about you!”

“Stop saying ‘we’, it’s just you!”

That felt like a slap to the face. You almost wished he had. It would’ve hurt less. 

“Just me,” you repeated.

Rimmer frowned. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

He seemed to mean it. But it was too late.

“Well,” you sneered. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with us now. Sorry you’ve got ‘just me’ for company. Sorry I’m not as good as Nirvanah bloody Crane. Sorry I’m not as clever or as bloody stimulating and I can’t touch you.” 

“I don’t care about that, I just-”

“What?”

“I just needed…”

“What?”

Rimmer looked suddenly shy.

“I would’ve taken you with me if I could,” he said quietly. 

“What?” Taken aback, you shook your head. “Why would I want to do that?”

Rimmer seemed just as bewildered.

“That’s what this is, isn’t it? You’re jealous.” 

“Jealous?”

You felt your resolve slip as your heart began to pound again. He knew. He’d finally figured it out. The idiot had actually managed to put two and two together, at last. Jealous wasn’t exactly the word you’d use. Sleeping with another woman when everyone was so fond of assuring you that he was practically in love with you, and abandoning his friends because he’d found something better, that would spark more than jealousy in anyone but-

“Jealous of me,” Rimmer said haughtily. “You’re a scientist, they should’ve chosen you. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder?”

You pressed your lips together, forcing yourself to pull in a lungful of air before you spoke. You knew if you didn’t give yourself time to recover, you’d only end up crying like an idiot, and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“You are such an idiot, Rimmer,” you murmured, then you turned and left the library.

Life went on as usual aboard Red Dwarf. You wasted time playing and losing at cards to Lister, ransacked the ship’s hundreds of empty rooms for treasures with Cat, and tried to learn a thing or two from Kryten in the labs. You were done with feeling like a spare part. The next time you found a derelict, you wanted to be more than a hanger-on.

Only your relationship with Rimmer had changed. Since the argument, you hadn’t spoken more than a few curt sentences to each other at a time. It wasn’t that you refused to interact with him, that would just be childish, and rather pointless on a ship with only five passengers. You’d simply stopped trying. You didn’t sit next to him at dinner, you didn’t ask how he was doing or if he wanted to play chess. You stopped inviting him to explore passing planets with you, and if Rimmer plucked up the courage to ask you, you either made up an excuse or made sure to invite one of the others along. 

He’d shown you what your friendship meant to him. He’d shown you how little he cared or thought about anyone but himself. You weren’t angry, you weren’t upset, you’d just given up. You weren’t going to give Rimmer any more patience or kindness or love than he deserved. He’d scorned it for the last time. 

Two weeks after Rimmer returned from the Enlightenment, you spotted an abandoned ship on the scanner, just a few clicks away. Emboldened by everything you’d learned from Kryten, it was you who proposed exploring the ship to see what you could salvage.

It felt good. It had been a long time since you’d felt helpful to anyone, and when the boys all happily agreed, you felt a swell of pride.

The derelict was falling apart. Rusted metal and peeling floors greeted you as you stepped off Starbug. Still, it was worth the risk. Holly had picked up readings that indicated there was enough fuel aboard the Delta Jet to power Red Dwarf for a five months. 

Unfortunately, Cat and Lister went off together pretty quickly, leaving you and Rimmer alone together, with only Kryten as a buffer. 

“Come on,” you muttered, slinging the bazookoid Lister had pressed into your hands over your shoulder. “Let’s get this over with. I don’t think this ship is all that stable.”

“Agreed, ma’am,” Kryten was scanning a read out on his forearm. “The ship should hold but we need to be on the lookout for any weakness in the structure. Keep your eyes peeled, sir, ma’am.”

“Oh, great.” Rimmer crossed his arms as your group began to pick its way into the heart of the old ship. “I didn’t realise this was that sort of a reconnaissance mission. I would’ve stayed on Starbug.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, annoyed but determined not to show it.

“There’s still time for you to go back,” You jabbed your bazookoid at the little ship. “No one’s forcing you to come, Rimmer.”

A muscle twitched in Rimmer’s jaw as he clenched his teeth.

“All I’m saying is, I think it would be a good idea if one of us stayed with Starbug. You know, just in case.”

“I’ve done a scan, Rimmer. It’s fine. We just have to be careful.”

“Oh, because you’re such an expert all of a sudden?”

You stopped and wheeled around.

“What did you say?”

Rimmer looked unbearably pompous as he swung his arms behind his back, his chest all puffed out and his nostrils flared.

“I just find it funny that we’re trusting you without question when you only learned how to read the scanners last week. Who knows what we could be walking into!”

“Sir, I’ve double checked the readings,” Kyten put in helpfully. “The Lieutenant’s interpretation is correct. The ship is structurally sound, we just need to enter cautiously.”

“What’s the problem, Rimmer?” Feeling encouraged by Kryten’s support, you sneered at him. “You don’t trust me? Is that it?”

“I trust you. I just don’t think you have nearly enough experience to be leading an expedition.”

“Oh? Is that right? 

You were faintly aware of Kryten trying to get your attention but you brushed him away.

“Or is it just that you’re jealous?”

“Jealous?” Rimmer repeated.

“Yeah. Jealous of me,” You smiled coldly. “You're the highest ranking officer. Or you were. They should be listening to you. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Your raised voice echoed through the silent, empty cargo hold. You were sure even Cat and Lister must’ve been able to hear you. 

It hadn’t been easy, giving Rimmer the cold shoulder. You didn’t, couldn’t, avoid him, so you’d simply treated him the same way you did the others. Still, it had taken him a long time to realise that something in you had changed. He finally seemed to get the message. 

“It’s fine,” you went on, turning to move deeper into the ship. “Like Kyrtes said, we just have to be caref-”

Your foot fell through the floor. You didn’t even have time to react. The crumbling, rusted metal gave way beneath you, and you staggered back, your instincts kicking in. You tried to catch yourself but lost your balance as more and more of the floor caved in beneath you. 

You were faintly aware of Rimmer shouting your name, then you saw him leap forward and try to grab your hand, but of course, you slipped right through his fingers. 

You fell, arms windmilling, and heard yourself scream as the floor below grew closer and closer. Then suddenly, your whole body jolted so hard, you thought your eyeballs might pop out of your skull. All the air left your lungs and for some reason, your left leg was suddenly screaming in pain. But you weren't falling anymore. 

You let out a shriek as you dangled in midair, your breaths coming short and fast as your arms flailed about in panic.

"It's alright, ma’am! I've got you!"

You twisted around so that you could look up and found Kryten hanging over the ledge, one hand gripping what remained of the floor, the other wrapped tight around your ankle.

You forgot about the fuel after that. Rimmer buzzed around you like an anxious hummingbird as Kryten pulled you up to solid ground.

You were faintly aware of Rimmer firing off a million questions: Are you okay? Are you hurt? What were you thinking? Don’t you look where you’re going? Don’t you know what it would do to me if you- How could you scare me like that? But they all wound around your head and up into the air as you focused on pulling in enough breath to settle your racing blood and the sound of your own screaming in your ears.

When you finally came back to reality, you were sitting on the examination table in Red Dwarf ’s lab. A cold white light flashed in front of your eyes and you hissed, batting the torch away.

“Kryten. I’m fine,” you sighed. “I just had a bit of a fright.”

“You can’t be too careful, ma’am,” Kryten said as he shone the light in your eyes again. 

You huffed and pushed his hand away, though only gently. He had saved your life, after all. You almost laughed when he pulled out a blood pressure monitor.

“I just need a lie down, Krytes. This is silly, I don’t need all this.”

Kryten lowered the cuff, looking unsure. 

“Mr. Rimmer was very firm, ma’am.”

“Rimmer? Why? What did he say?”

“Well, he threatened to connect jump leads to my nipple nuts and fry them if I didn’t conduct a thorough examination.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Oh, he did, did he?”

Kryten nodded solemnly.

“He was very clear. I am to do a complete evaluation of your health and then I’m to escort you to your room, bring you your dinner, then make sure you rest.”

Rimmer had said all that? You couldn’t believe it. That wasn’t like him at all. It had been only too clear after the last few weeks that the stupid git couldn’t care less about you. And anyway, if he did care so much, why wasn’t he here now? Or maybe you just wanted him here. You’d never liked hospitals. It would be nice to have him close. You hadn’t felt the warmth from his light bee in so long.

“You know, ma’am, it’s not really my place to say but… I measured his heart rate.”

You blinked at Kryten. He looked almost bashful. Sometimes you wondered if the mechanoid understood more about humans than he let on.

“Holograms don’t have heartbeats, Kryten.”

“Forgive me, ma’am. I thought an equivalent metaphor would help to articulate my point more effectively.”

You sighed, then finally held out your arm.

“Go on,” you said, gesturing at the blood pressure monitor. 

Kryten moved towards the table and carefully looped the cuff around your upper arm. 

“The frequencies from his light bee were off the scale when he thought you were in danger, ma’am.”

He pulled the black material tight, fastened the velcro, then pressed a button on the side of the cuff. It began to tighten until it was almost claustrophobic. You tried not to squirm uncomfortably. 

“So? Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Though simulated, he does breathe, he does feel. All his faculties were lost when you fell, ma’am.” Kryten did his version of a shrug. “I’m only a droid but I know the science. Mr. Rimmer cares about you.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Mr. Rimmer only cares about himself. It’s about time I accepted that.”

“But ma’am-”

“When Camille was onboard, who did he see?”

Kryten hesitated. 

Fed up, you tore off the cuff and handed it back to him. 

“I know he told you Kryten. Who did he see? He wouldn’t tell me.”

It was unfair, you knew that, but the heart-to-heart routine was starting to irritate you. Kryten didn’t know what he was talking about and you weren’t in the mood for anyone to try and convince you that Rimmer was a good guy. 

Kryten couldn’t meet your eyes. 

“I don’t know what she looked like. I just know she was a hologram like Mr. Rimmer.”

“So not me.”

“No, ma’am. He’d never seen her before. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that he doesn’t feel anything for you. Camille could reflect absolute synthetic perfection but nothing realistic. Mr. Rimmer saw a woman he thought was perfect for him, that doesn’t reflect what he truly feels.”

You didn’t know why the thought made you feel so sick. Kryten was just confirming what you already knew to be true. The others had all excitedly told you about their dream lovers, but Rimmer had been suspiciously quiet. A small part of you had secretly hoped he was just too embarrassed to admit who he saw. Turns out you were right, but not in the way you hoped.

“But I saw him,” you said, and winced when your voice cracked.

Kryten lowered his head. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

Yeah, you thought, me too. 

Ace had laid it all out very clearly. In his dimension, you hated him and he adored you. He’d theorised that there must be some version of your lives where you were lucky enough to be in love at the same time. It was only logical. Stupidly, you’d believed that this was it. Turns out your universe really was the opposite of Ace’s. 

“Don’t be. Doesn’t matter.” You forced a smile as you slid of the exam table. “Thanks again, Kryten. You’re my hero.”

You kissed his odd, rubbery cheek, then left the lab. You kept your head down as you hurried through the seemingly endless corridors, just in case you bumped into one of your friends. Thankfully, you made it back to your quarters just in time. 

You slammed your hand against the keypad, waited until the door had slid shut, then fell back against it and started to cry. 

Chapter Text

You were running. It always began the same way. Running and terrified.

Chest heaving, you slipped round one corner then another, your boots squeaking against the polished white floor with every sharp turn. Somewhere above your head, an ear-splitting siren heaved in and out like a child’s wail. 

You fell into the claustrophobic flight deck, hoping to find Captain Falstaff, or even one of the navigators. But there was no one there.

You were alone. They were all gone. Your friends. Your crew. Dead. All dead.

Below you, a yellow planet was rising up to meet you, a vast sea of writhing sand rocked by harsh winds. 

Panic set in. You jabbed and clawed at the control panel, a million blinding and colourful switches that now acted as the only light source.

“No! Please don’t- Fuck. ” You shook your head when the control panel announced that you were locked out. “Crashing. We’re crashing. I can’t stop it. I can’t-”

An explosion ricocheted through the ship. Its impact knocked you forward into the control panel. You hit your head, your teeth clunking together. When you managed to slip your hands underneath your body and push up, blood obscured the vision in your left eye. 

Thinking quickly, you remembered the escape pod. Would it even be functioning? There wasn’t time to think of anything else.

You turned and heaved your body in the direction of the emergency bay, but another explosion, the second engine probably, made the ship roll, and you flew across the room. You hit the wall and crumpled into a heap.

When you next opened your eyes, everything was very dark and your head was pounding. Voiced swam around your ears. For a moment, you thought you must  have died. But the floor was cold and harsh, and you were in a great deal of pain. 

The voices grew closer. They confused you. Each one had a different accent, a different tone, and none of them sounded familiar.

Then a hand, sticking out of a well-loved leather jacket, reached out towards you. 

“‘Ere, guys! This one’s alive!”

You gasped for breath as you fell into consciousness. For some reason, your ears were ringing. It took you a moment to realise it was because you’d been screaming.

You wrapped your hand around your throat and felt your pulse racing against your fingertips. 

“You’re safe,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re in bed. You’re on Red Dwarf and you’re not alone. You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

It had been years since you dreamt of the crash. In your first few weeks aboard Red Dwarf, you must have relived the worst night of your life a thousand times. It was there - every time you closed your eyes - waiting for you. 

You wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. You knew that now. After months and months of restless nights, you’d found there was only one thing that helped clear your mind, so you dragged yourself out of your bunk.

Padding down the corridor with your blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you silently made your way into the cosy mess and plonked down on the sofa. You flicked on the telly and asked Holly in a whisper to play some of the old security footage.

You couldn’t remember much between the Atalanta IV crashing and waking up on Red Dwarf. It came to you in bits and pieces. Lister said they’d carried you back to the ship, where you spent a few days in intensive care. Then one day, without warning, you woke up, shouting and swearing, and trying to clamber out of the bed Kryten had set up for you.

Your first few days on Red Dwarf were a blur. You had a thousand questions. Again, Lister had filled you in on the finer details. Your crew were all dead, killed in their stasis pods as they slept. You were all that was left. Some sort of alien had got onboard and torn apart the engine before turning on the crew, so there was nothing you could have done. You were lucky to be alive. 

It still upset you, even now, even after all these years. The Atalanta IV had set sail to the stars on an exploration mission, a team of scientists kept in stasis, hoping to reach the other end of the universe and see what they could find. You were peaceful. Completely unarmed. The crew had done nothing to deserve what happened to them, and now you were stuck, millions of years from home, completely alone and terrified.

Well, that last part wasn’t strictly true. Jupiter knows you weren’t alone; you never got a minute’s peace. It had been rather quiet recently though. Rimmer still made your chest lurch every time you saw him, but now out of bitterness and grief, rather than longing. 

Lister had brought up the rift that evening, as you sat down together with a beer and watched the stars from Starbug’s cockpit. 

“When are you gonna forgive him?” he’d said. 

You’d scoffed.

“Not anytime soon. I don’t know why you aren’t more annoyed with him.”

“Because we’re three million years in deep space, man. And there’s only five of us. It’s daft to hold a grudge.” Lister had sipped his beer magnanimously. “I know he cares about you. He hasn’t stopped rabbitin’ on about ya. ‘When do you think she’ll talk to me again? What do you think I should do?’ On and on and on. He’s doin’ my ‘ead in.”

“He never liked me, Dave. I was just seeing what I wanted to see.”

“Are you jokin’? When he first met you, he thought you was another Pleasure GELF.”

“What?” 

“My guess is, he thought you were so beautiful and so kind to him, there was no way you could be real.”

That had made you laugh. It was still ridiculous now. Although, if you were being completely honest, it did make your heart stumble. Just a bit.

On the television, old CCTV recordings of Red Dwarf played out before you, your own little reality TV show.

Tonight, Holly had brought up clips from Lister and Rimmer’s quarters. They seemed to be drunk, but the sound was low and distorted. You could just about hear their voices if you concentrated.

During your first few weeks onboard, you’d found the old security footage a useful resource for getting to know the ship, its purpose and history, and more importantly, your new friends. Now, they were almost comforting, and usually entertaining if nothing else.

“I look young there.”

Startled, you whipped around to find Rimmer standing in the doorway. He was watching the television, his expression blank and inscrutable.

He looked like he’d just tumbled out of bed. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and his pyjamas were synthetically ruffled.

You didn’t get to see Rimmer in his PJs often. He had usually exercised and changed before you’d even dragged yourself out of bed.

You glanced down. He’d sewn his name and rank onto the left-hand side of his pyjama shirt. It was so pitiful, you could’ve kissed him. 

“You do,” You felt a smile rise then slip away again as quickly as it formed. “How’s that possible?”

“Holly updates my software every year or so. The computer can predict how I would’ve aged.”

“That’s…” 

You left the thought hanging in the air. Nice? Weird? Sad? You weren’t sure which fit best, or which would be best to say. In the end, you decided awkward silence would just have to do. 

The corners of Rimmer’s mouth twitched but he didn’t quite manage a smile.

“I heard you shout. I came to see if you were alright. Was it a nightmare?”

His concern was touching but you refused to let it show.

“Yeah. Just a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s fine, Rimmer. Go back to sleep.”

He seemed disappointed. Did he really think you wanted to pour over your deepest fears and worries with him? After all he’d done? You couldn’t be more obvious that you weren’t interested in being his friend anymore, what didn’t he get?

Rimmer looked down at something by his feet and motioned with his hand.

One of the scutters, Paul you thought, noisily wheeled himself into the room between Rimmer’s feet, like a dog at heel. In his claw-like jaws, he held a brimming mug. 

“I made you a cuppa.” Rimmer frowned. “Well, he did, I suppose. I can’t promise it’ll be very nice.” 

Paul whirred over to you and lifted his head.

You thanked him as you carefully took the mug. You’d always had a soft spot for the scutters. Rimmer knew that. You wondered if he was using that to his advantage. 

You sipped your tea and immediately pulled a face. 

“You forgot the sugar.” 

Paul snapped his jaws.

Rimmer smiled.

“He says you’re sweet enough.”

You gave him a weary look. 

Silence fell between you and lingered for far longer than could be considered comfortable. 

At last, Rimmer said,

“I’m not very good at this sort of thing.” 

You raised your eyebrows and took another sip of tea.

“I’m shocked.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rimmer rolled back his shoulders, clearly feeling uncomfortable. “l left without saying goodbye. And I abandoned my crew for another. And I didn’t explain myself well when I came back and I hurt you. But I’m… I’m not sorry that I tried.” 

You looked away. 

Rimmer sighed.

“You don’t know what it’s like.”

“So tell me. I can’t count how many times I’ve tried to show you that I’m your friend. I care about you, Rimmer, I want to listen. I want to help. Please just be honest with me.”

It went quiet again.

You tried your best not to be impatient. This was already a turn up for the books, hearing Rimmer apologise for anything was like finding a four-leafed clover on Mimas. If you were going to get anywhere, you couldn’t push him, but another voice argued that you shouldn’t be giving him a chance to explain himself. 

On the television screen, the younger Rimmer was talking, though the sound was still muffled.

“I could never invent a sandwich like this, Lister. You see, all the ingredients are wrong. The fried eggs: wrong. The chutney: wrong. The chilli sauce: all wrong. But put them together and somehow, it works…”

Rimmer looked down at the floor again. He was wearing slippers. Of course he was.  

“I’ve never had a friend before,” he said quietly.

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. 

“Come off it. Rimmer. The others-”

“Lefty.”

His tone was serious, his voice low. It stopped you in your tracks. 

There was a beat. It appeared you’d reached an impasse. Rimmer, with all his tactical knowledge, must’ve sensed it too. Either he could say good night and head back to bed, and let the frisson between you go on for another week, another month, maybe even forever. Or you could say something, something honest that would make him stay.

The thought made your jaw clench. It meant giving in. It meant caving and being the first to start negotiating peace. But why should you have to be the diplomat? Why should you have to surrender? Rimmer didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve your kindness. 

But then, you supposed, that was the whole point. You’d told Rimmer once that you were always going to try your best to understand him and listen to him when the others didn’t. You’d made that choice when you started to fall for him. You couldn’t cherry pick parts of a person that you liked and get angry with them when they behaved in a way you always knew they would. Rimmer was a coward, first and foremost. Luckily for him, you were incredibly, incredibly brave.

If you were going to love Rimmer, you had to love all of him, and sometimes that meant being the bigger person. And you did love him. You knew that now. You loved him so much, you weren’t afraid to bruise your own pride to get him to expose his. 

“It broke my heart when you left,” you whispered.

Rimmer expression softened. 

You watched, hardly breathing, as he came and sat down next to you on the sofa. Close, close enough to talk quietly and frankly, but not too close as to be confrontational. You wondered momentarily if he’d learnt it from one of his books on leadership.

“They were just all so…” 

Rimmer shook his head, his eyes fixed somewhere near your hands, resting tensely on your knees.

“I don’t know. It was beautiful there. And they made being a hologram sound like an advantage. I felt useful. Here, I just feel like a ghost. Some leftover code in a computer that’s slowly dying. I know it was wrong. But do you understand why I had to try?”

To your dismay, you did understand. Worse, it brought up memories of all Rimmer had told you about the way he was raised, the way he grew up, and what that had done to him. That lonely childhood, never being enough, it had created a need to always have the final say, to be in control at all times, to put himself first because no one else would. It must be exhausting. 

“And her?” you asked, though you hated yourself for it.

Rimmer had the nerve to look clueless. 

“Who?”

“Nirvanah Crane,” you said the name quietly, not wanting to put any more of your own breath into it than necessary.

Rimmer looked uncomfortable. He rose to his feet again, tucking his hands behind his back.

“Oh. Well, she was a friend too, I suppose. In a way. She wanted to help me.”

Again, you sipped your tea. 

“Mm, sounds like it.”

Rimmer sighed, and now his jaw was tense. 

“You know, I really don’t think you have a right to be angry with me about that.”

He always managed to look pompous or rather silly, there was usually no in-between. Right now, Rimmer seemed open, soft, but anger bubbled beneath the surface, like he was cross with you but having a hard time processing it. The thought made you bristle.

You raised your eyebrows. 

“Oh, you don’t, do you?”

“I know there’s- We’re… But you’ve never-”

“Neither have you.”

“Well, that’s- How can I?”

“You can talk to me.” 

Rimmer physically deflated.

You’d both come very close to saying something you shouldn’t, or something you weren’t brave enough to deal with yet. It was taking a visible toll. 

“It just hurt that the only reason you came back was for her,” you went on, altering the subject to make it more palatable. 

It went quiet for a moment, then Rimmer came back towards the couch. You thought me might sit beside you again but instead, he perched on the edge of the coffee table, directly in front of you. In any other context, you might’ve found it confrontational, he was invading your personal space and forcing you to meet his eyes. But it wasn’t like that. 

Rimmer interlaced his fingers. You watched him drag his thumbs against the backs of his hands, and wondered if he could feel it, and find comfort in it, or if it was just the habit of a lifetime. 

“That wasn’t the only reason,” he said quietly. 

“But you said-”

“It was a reason. Not the only reason.”

Rimmer pulled in a deep breath. As his chest rose, it made the buttons on the front of his pyjama shirt grow taut.

How could anyone think he wasn’t real? He was here, he was thinking and talking and breathing, even if it was simulated. He was alive to you. How could you not fall for him?

 “I missed you,” Rimmer said. “So much.”

He spoke so earnestly, so gently but surely, for some reason, it made your stomach twist. His hazel eyes were fixed on yours.

You tried to speak but no sound came out, so you opted for shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Rimmer-”

“It’s true. I know it sounds like the oldest line in the book but it’s just the truth, Lefty. I’m being honest, like you asked. I missed you.”

“You were only gone a day and a half.”

“Still,” Rimmer smiled awkwardly. “I don’t want to be on any ship without you on it. I care about you. A great deal. And I… I realised the feeling that I was chasing on the Enlightenment… I was looking for how it felt to be with you.”

Something burned in your chest. An ember from a fire you thought had been snuffed out completely. Deep in the kiln of your heart, a spark had reignited. It made your face flush, and you had to clasp your hands together in your lap to keep them from shaking.

“What feeling?” you asked, though you hardly dared.

Rimmer gave you a soft, sad sort of a smile.

“Being accepted, feeling like I’m home, feeling… Useful. Wanted. Loved. And I wasn’t going to find it because you weren’t there, so… I came home.” 

Rimmer hesitated, then reached out, until his hand hovered over yours.

You instinctively tensed, anticipating contact, but of course, nothing came. You watched him watch his own hand as it passed through yours, and wondered if Rimmer still forgot sometimes too. 

He sighed as he pulled back his hand. 

“Please forgive me,” Rimmer murmured. “I can’t bear not being friends.”

He’d been so honest with you. You knew you had to meet him halfway. 

“I want to,” you said.

Rimmer seemed to realise, at least, that he didn’t have a right to be dissatisfied with this. He leaned back and took a deep breath.

“Time?” he guessed.

You wanted to say no. It was spiteful but you knew you’d more than earned a little bitterness. 

Against your better judgement, you thought about what it must feel like to be Rimmer, to just be a projection of the person you used to be, an impression, like a charcoal rubbing of the soul of a man who had been gone for three million years. 

Then you thought about what Lister had said. Between you, you didn’t have much of a future. It was just you, three men, a twitchy mechanoid, and a senile computer battling its own decaying circuits to try to get you home. There wasn’t much point holding a grudge. Still, you weren’t going let Rimmer get away with it either.

“Time,” you agreed, and smiled faintly at Rimmer for the first time in weeks.

Rimmer’s shoulders sank, almost with relief.

He let out a long breath, and you realised that the awkwardness and unease that had come between you over the last month or so had been just as painful for him as it had been for you. 

He gave an empty laugh. 

“Time’s all I’ve got,” Rimmer said.

You couldn’t help it, you gave an equally hollow laugh and nodded. It was all you had too. 

“If I’d asked you to stay, would you?”

The question had been rolling in your head since he left but you hadn’t had the courage to ask it. You hadn’t even been brave enough to ask Lister. You weren’t sure which answer was more terrifying.

Rimmer looked like he might lie to placate you, and you almost wanted him to. But then he seemed to remember that he’d promise to be honest from now on.

“I don’t know. Maybe not.” Rimmer looked down at your hands, still clasped together in your lap. “I don’t think I knew what I had until I left.”

You’d been so still and tense throughout the conversation, your muscles had started to atrophy. Your cup of tea was lukewarm now but you sipped it anyway, just for something to do, something to break the tension and give you an excuse to fidget. 

“And now?” you asked, clearing your throat awkwardly.

Rimmer looked about as serious and sincere as you’d ever seen him. 

“I’m never leaving you again,” he said, shaking his head. “That I know for sure.”

How did he do it? How did he always manage to say something sweet?  It was so easy to be irritated by him but very difficult to stay angry with him for long. The git.

You opened your mouth to let him know you weren’t quite ready to be friends again yet, but you were interrupted by Rimmer’s voice coming from the television. You both seemed to remember the CCTV footage at the same time.

“And that includes the time it took to eat the pizza!”

“Please, Rimmer.”

“In my entire life, I have spent more time being sick.”

“What’s…” Rimmer turned around on the coffee table to watch the telly. He immediately froze, his eyes wide. “I thought Holly had deleted all of this.”

You glanced between him and the footage. 

“It’s been patchy? Some must have been missed. Why? What’s wrong?”

But Rimmer wasn’t listening. He was fixated on the television screen, his chest rising and falling heavily under his pale blue pyjamas. 

“So? I mean… You haven't met the right girl yet.”

“No, I haven't, Lister. I haven't met the right girl and some just might say, given the fact that the human race no longer exists, coupled with the fact that I have passed on, some just might say that I'm leaving it a little bit on the late side.”

“Well, you made a decision, didn't you? I mean, you chose your career over your personal life.”

“You should turn it off,” Rimmer said suddenly, without looking away from the screen.

You frowned and glanced around for the remote. 

“Why?”

“Just-”

On the television screen, Rimmer looked bedraggled and woebegone. The sound was still a little warped. The footage was, after all, several years old now, and the system playing it, even older. Still, as Rimmer leaned closer to Lister, drunk and loose-lipped, you didn’t miss a single syllable of what he said. 

“Well, I'll tell you something, Lister. I'll tell you something. I'd trade it all in, all of it. My pips, my long-service medals, my swimming certificates, my telescope, my shoe trees. I'd trade everything in… To be loved and to have been loved.”

You glanced sideways at Rimmer, just as he turned to look at you. Neither of you spoke. You didn’t have to.

On screen, Rimmer began to sing in a reedy, pathetic voice, a song you hadn’t heard for many years but you recognised it instantly and knew it well. 

This was the last straw for Rimmer. 

“Well, I should be getting back to bed.” 

Face flushed, he stood up and hurried to the door, almost tripping over Paul on the way, even though he would've passed right through him. 

You let him go. Partly because you could empathise with his hasty exit, and partly because the security footage was still rolling. You couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away.

Rimmer had flopped onto the bed and was staring emptily at the floor by his bunk.

“That was gonna be our song. But I never found anyone to share it with. So now it's just my song.”

Then he began to whimper quietly, softly, desperately lamenting his rotten lot in life. 

There was more but you’d seen enough. You asked Holly to turn off the television and sat back in your seat as the screen went blank.

The next morning, you had the kitchen to yourself. Still half asleep, you stirred a teaspoon around your mug and blankly watched the tea swirl around and around and around. 

“There's a saying old, says that love is blind. Still we're often told, ‘seek and ye shall find’. So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind…”

You sang softly, keeping the words under your breath. The song had been echoing through your mind all night. It had taken you a while to piece together the words from memory but you’d almost got them now. 

“Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet. He's the big affair I cannot forget. Only man I ever think of with regret…”

Quick, familiar footsteps passed by the door. You knew them without having to look up.

“I'd like to add his initial to my monogram. Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?”

The footfalls stopped, then hesitantly retraced their steps.

Rimmer appeared in the doorway. 

“Morning, Arnie.”

You couldn’t help smiling at his expression. He looked completely astounded, there was no other word for it.

“Morning,” he stuttered, his jaw still slack. 

You turned back to your tea, pressing your lips together to try and keep a straight face. You didn’t blame him for looking so surprised. It was the first time you’d instigated an interaction between you in weeks.

“There's a somebody I'm longin' to see. I hope that he turns out to be someone who'll watch over me…”

You tapped your spoon against the rim of your mug then pointed down at your tea.

“I’m just making a cuppa and some toast, and then I thought I might… Well, I was wondering if you wanted to play chess?”

Rimmer beamed.

Chapter Text

When the bazookoid smoke cleared, you saw that the creature had retreated, but only by a few metres. Above your heads, part of the ceiling began to crumble and rained down on you, but while the others kept their focus on The Unspeakable One, you made a beeline for the damsel in distress.

“Arnie!”

Rimmer’s arms were shackled high up above his head. The only dignity spared him was a cloth tied loosely around his hips and his own stupid red socks and suspenders. His bare chest heaved with fear as you hurried over, his eyes wide and frightened.

“Arn, are you alright?”

You’d been worried sick since Rimmer and Kryten went missing. When you found the mechanoid in pieces on an eerie psi-moon, you feared something far worse must have happened to Rimmer. He was always talking himself into trouble. 

Together, the Dwarfers had trekked across swamps and rivers and through dark forests, only to find Rimmer held hostage by a terrible creature made up of his own self-loathing. 

You could hardly breathe through the relief of finding him in one piece. 

“You stupid- What have you got yourself into this… Time…”

You had intended to set him free, even if that meant blasting his shackles with the bazookoid Lister had tentatively entrusted to you, but the sight of his shockingly toned body made you falter.

“Oh,” you said dumbly.

You were just a hand’s breadth away and faintly aware that there was something you were supposed to be doing, something important, but all rational thought had been drop-kicked out of your mind. 

 “Hi.”

Rimmer swallowed thickly as you came closer. 

“Hello,” he said, his voice shaky.

How did such a shocking gangly dork like Rimmer look like this under all those boxy Space Corp. uniforms? He’d always been very broad-shouldered, and a few glimpses of his strong arms over the years had made your head spin, but you had no idea that he was hiding all this.

Rimmer seemed to flush under your wandering gaze but that could have been the low light. You smiled, and his ears went pink too. 

“You look…” 

Your words got stuck in your throat as you looked him up and down again. You licked your lips. 

“Hi,” you repeated, your mind completely blank.

“Hello,” he said again.

When you finally met his gaze again, Rimmer’s eyes were glassy. He liked you looking. He liked that you liked what you saw.

You grinned.

“Oh, man,” Lister groaned as he reloaded his bazookoid. “Look, you can have your filthy way with him later. Let’s blast this bastard.”

“Right, sorry!”

“But sir,” Kryten cried. “Another barrage of bazookoid fire could start a rockslide and bury us all!”

“Reload!”

“You would risk your lives for me?” Rimmer asked, hardly believing that you were all really here.

“Of course!” Kryten said. “You’re part of the crew!”

The room shook again. The monster, whatever it was, gave a mournful shriek and slinked back into the crevice it crawled out of. 

Immediately, Rimmer’s manacles vanished and his shiny red uniform shimmered back into existence. You tried not to look too disappointed.

Together, you raced home to Starbug, back through the murky woods and desolate swamps of Rimmer’s subconscious. Piling back into the ramshackle boat, you crossed over the lake, huddled together for warmth and safety. 

The hull knocked into something hard below the surface, a rock or maybe a rotting tree trunk. The boat almost capsized, flinging you all around as if you weighed nothing. 

Finally, you docked the boat and scrambled out, the voice of The Unspeakable One hot on your heels. It seemed to echo and stretch, splitting the curdling sky in two. 

You were the last out of the boat. Struggling to find a purchase on the damp wooden slats, you heaved yourself up, throwing one foot underneath your body to shove yourself upwards, but you slipped on the rotting pier.

You would’ve fallen into the water if it weren’t for a hand shooting out and grabbing yours. You squeezed it tight, laughing with relief as you looked up, expecting to find Lister or the Cat grinning back at you. But it was Rimmer.

You stared at each other, both equally shocked.

“You’re…”

For the first time, you noticed there was no ‘H’ on his forehead. In a world of his own subconscious, Rimmer was no longer a hologram.

“What, you mean you didn’t notice?” Lister grinned from down the pier. “What could’ve caused that, I wonder?”

You wanted to tell Lister to shut up, shut up, shut right now, but you were too busy staring at Rimmer, at his fingers still wrapped safely around yours, and then back at Rimmer again. 

“This is the first time we’ve-”

“Yes,” Rimmer said quickly, clearly thinking along the same lines.

You stared at each other for a moment until finally, you couldn’t help laughing softly. What a ridiculous situation. What a ridiculous life you had now. 

Rimmer began to laugh too as he heaved you up onto the pier.

He pulled you into him, whether it was on purpose or not, you couldn't tell, but you also couldn’t care less. His chest was firm and warm, his eyes full of moonlight.

The hand that held yours so tightly was strong, his fingers long and elegant. Suddenly, all thoughts of danger and death had vanished from your mind, and there was only you and Rimmer, hand in hand in the dark. 

Only Kryten noticed the change. The clouds receded just a little, the waters of the lake calmed, and the echoing, terrible voice of The Unspeakable One was silenced, at least, for now.

“Hm,” he mused. “Very interesting.”

“C’mon, you two!” Lister yelled, making you and Rimmer jump. “You can stare at each other back on Red Dwarf!”

Tumbling into Starbug, you wasted no time explaining to Rimmer about the psi-moon he’d had the misfortune to land on. Everything he felt about himself, the lack of self-respect, the abundance of self-hatred, the unfounded ego, it was all here, alive, and dangerous. 

“So... So what are you saying to me? That thing... That- that beast... That lives inside my mind?”

Kryten nodded solemnly. 

“Metaphorically, yes, sir.”

“Self-loathing? I don't loathe myself. What is there one could possibly loathe about me?”

Rimmer looked to you for help but Kryten got there first.

“Would you like the list, sir?”

“What list?”

“Well, there’s the fact that you were despised by your parents for failing to achieve their standards; the fact that your three brothers were all such high flyers in the Space Corp., and you ended up servicing chicken soup machines; there's your inability to form long term relationships with anyone…”

Rimmer locked eyes with you but you looked away, chest tight. 

“Your cowardliness; your lack of charm, honour, or grace; and the awful knowledge that throughout your entire life, no one has truly liked you because you are so fundamentally unlikeable.”

The ship shuddered again. Another hit at Rimmer’s heart. You honestly could’ve cried but he didn’t seem nearly as shocked by Kryten’s outpouring. 

“Oh, that!”

“Please don't interrupt, sir. I'm only halfway through my list. Now, where was I? Oh, yes-”

“I think he's got the point, Kryten,” Lister put in gently.

You were relieved. You didn’t think you could stand to listen to more reasons why Rimmer hated himself. Not when you had an equally impressive list of things you loved about him.

Rimmer pushed away from the wall and sank down on one of the trunks littering Starbug’s hold.

“God, I'm such a mess.”

The little Bug shook as if it were in the hand of a small child. Holly tried to blast the engines but a thick quicksand pulled the ship back down. The retros would keep you stable, for now. 

Rimmer looked miserable. You couldn’t blame him. Just when you thought life couldn’t get any worse for the man, he was trapped in a nightmare made of his own fear and hatred. 

You thought about the tombstones you’d seen on your way to find him, honour, charm, hope. He really thought all those horrible things about himself. You still weren’t on the best of terms, months had gone by since he left for the Enlightenment and you still felt a pang whenever you thought about it. You were starting to be friends again, slowly and steadily, and at your own pace. Rimmer had respected that so far. Still, despite everything he’d said and done, it hurt to know he hated himself so much. 

Before you could move to reassure him, Kryten called for a meeting in the cockpit. All of you, apart from Rimmer. 

When the door slid shut behind you, the mechanoid spoke in a hushed voice.  

“Sirs, ma’am, I think I have it. The real enemy is not out there, it is in Starbug with us. The real enemy is inside Mr. Rimmer's head.”

“Nice plan!” The Cat grinned. “So we remove his head and everything's cool, right?”

“Kryten,” you said firmly and carefully, so there could be no misunderstanding. “I’m usually first to agree with you but I can’t tell you how much I’m not a fan of that plan.”

“No, wait a minute,” Lister waggled a finger in the air. “That's gone right up my flagpole, that has, Kryten. I'm saluting that one.”

The Cat frowned. 

“What?”

“When we first drove back the beast in the cavern, it wasn't the bazookoid fire that forced him into the pit. It was when you told Rimmer we wouldn't desert him.”

“Precisely,” Krtyen nodded.

“So if we can make Rimmer feel wanted, feel cared about…”

“If we can make him feel good about himself, somehow restore his self-esteem and his pride, that would automatically vanquish the Self-Loathing Beast. Or at least, debilitate it long enough for us to break free of this quicksand and get off this God forsaken psi-moon.”

“How do we make him feel good?” The Cat pulled a face. “What is there about him to feel good about?”

Lister nudged your ribs. 

“Bet you could think of a few ways, eh, mate?”

“Shut up, Lister.”

You batted him away, not in the mood.

“C’mon, you’ll be aces at this. We've gotta tell him we love him.”

“Arrrrgh, you're sick! I don’t want no part of this depravity!” The Cat cried.

“And he must not suspect we are insincere,” Kryten added. “Our lives depend on it. Ready?”

“I'll never be ready.”

“Just follow Lefty’s lead.”

You hit Lister again, swearing at him under your breath. 

The Cat made a gagging sound. 

“No, thanks. I know what’s at the other end of it.”

The door slid open. Rimmer was still sat slumped on a packing crate, his face a rictus of shame, fear, and self-pity. When he saw you, he brightened, if only by a little.

“Getting some lift,” Holly said. 

“Here we go,” Lister muttered under his breath, then he stepped into Starbug’s midsection. “Listen, we've been talking and the four of us have decided to stay with you and face the danger. All for one and that, you know?

Rimmer glanced between you.

“Really?”

Kryten nodded as he nervously pressed his fingertips together. 

“Sir, I'd just like to take this opportunity to say that you’re a very beautiful person.”

“What he means is,” Lister added quickly. “That we're all facing certain death here and I think it's about time we let each other know exactly how we feel about each other.”

“You think that's a good idea?”

Rimmer gaze slid to you so quickly, you almost didn’t catch it. Almost.

“It's just that,” Lister sat down beside Rimmer. “Guys generally aren't terrific at… You know…”

“Expressing their feelings,” said Kryten, taking a seat on his other side.

“Yeah. They kid around and insult each other and stuff.  And what they really mean is... Well, they can't tell you the stuff they really mean.”

“What are you trying to tell me?”

“Just trying to say that whatever happens here, I want you to know… I really care about ya.”

Lister put his hand on Rimmer’s knee. 

Rimmer stared at it in shock.

“We all do, sir.”

Kryten put his hand on Rimmer’s other knee. 

Beside you, the Cat growled under his breath. 

“If they think I’m going to-”

You shushed him. The boys were putting on a stunningly bad act as it was, you couldn’t let Cat ruin their plan just because Rimmer rubbed his fur the wrong way.  

“Wait a minute,” Rimmer stood up, waving his hands. “I know why you're doing this. You're trying to make me feel guilty, aren't you? It's a transparent attempt to shame me into doing the honourable thing.”

“No, it's not that at all!”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Well, why is it then?”

Her head hanging low, Holly announced that Starbug had sunk a little further into the quicksand. 

You were never going to get out of this, not with Lister and the others at the helm. Years of bullying and insults that could make your eyes water meant there was a lot of loyalty between the boys but very little in the way of trust. But you had something they didn’t. 

Heart thudding in your ears, you realised you’d arrived at the idea the moment Lister said that Rimmer needed to believe he was loved. And who better to convince him than the one person who adored him? 

Mind made up, you screwed your courage to the sticking place and prayed. 

“Arnie, listen to me.”

You took both his hands in yours, only taking a moment to enjoy the novel feeling. How many years had you spent dreaming of this moment? To finally be able to touch him, feel him, wrap your hands around him and know you never wanted to let him go. It would be so wonderful if it weren’t all so very sad.

“I know it’s hard to believe sometimes… You boys have known each other for a long time, you have your history and- God, I don’t even know what I’m saying…”

“Lefty…”

Rimmer glanced over your shoulder at the others. 

You could feel their stares beating down on your back but you pushed the thought away. The moment you had taken Rimmer’s hands in yours, you had felt the ship lift a little bit more. This would work. It just meant breaking your heart in the process.

“I just- I know it must be difficult to believe it from them. But it’s different for us. Isn’t it?”

Rimmer’s cheeks went pink. He looked down at your folded hands. He’d barely moved since you touched him. You wondered if he too couldn’t quite believe this was really happening, and to relish it or even acknowledge it might break the spell.

“Yes,” he whispered, and met your gaze again.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your breathing steady, but all around you, the ship was trembling, though that could have been you. You couldn’t feel your legs and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. For once, the only real, solid thing was Rimmer. You squeezed his hands. 

“This really wasn’t… I hadn’t planned on- I’ve been thinking about this for months and I was never able to figure out how I was gonna tell you, or the right time. But, I suppose, this is the only time.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“I think- I think you and I both know that there’s been something between us for a while,” You shook your head, your face hot. “But you never talked about it or did anything to- But I know, I know you feel the same way I do. I’ve seen the way you look at me because I look at you the same way. And now I can touch you…”

Rimmer had gone pink to the tips of his ears now. You thought if you could just peel back the front of his stupid uniform, you’d see the same blush travelling down his neck to his chest. 

He mouthed something, something just for you, and it took you a moment to realise he was silently saying your name, running through the syllables slowly and steadily, taking care with each letter. Over and over and over he mouthed it. You wondered if he even realised he was doing it. 

The ship shuddered again, lurching upwards. You heard Holly speaking again but your heart was hammering so hard, you couldn’t hear her. Now or never.  

“I just- If this is my last chance to say it… I…” 

You took a deep breath but the words caught in your throat. Part of you screamed that this wasn’t right, that playing with his emotions was an awful thing to do. Another voice reminded you that this was life or death, and if you didn’t completely convince Rimmer that he was loved in the next few seconds, then you were all gonners, and anyway, he hurt you first. 

A final voice, clear and cold as a striking bell, pointed out that you weren’t lying, you did adore him, you loved him so much it left you breathless, and telling him couldn’t hurt much more than whatever it was you had going on at the moment. 

“Arnie, I…” 

You choked again. Words weren’t enough. 

“Oh,” You dropped his hands. “Fuck it.”

You grabbed Rimmer’s face, cupping his jaw with both hands, and pulled him into a hard kiss. It knocked the breath out of you but you didn’t care. Your teeth clunked together but you’d didn't care. Rimmer was so shocked that he couldn’t even kiss you back but you didn’t care. Because you could touch him, you could feel him, and Arnold’s lips were just as lovely as you knew they’d be.

You were faintly aware of Rimmer’s hands flapping by your waist and of someone gasping behind you, but all you could focus on was how good and firm and warm he felt under your hands, and when Rimmer’s finally settled on your hips, you almost forgot how to breathe.

Cheeks burning, you made to pull away but Rimmer chased your lips, pressing himself into you with a soft groan. His fingertips pressed into your hips, keeping you close as his mouth moved against yours.

It was clumsy and messy, just like you knew it would be, but his hands knew just what to do. His fingers found their way into your hair as yours wrapped around his waist, keeping him against you as you pressed your tongue against his. Rimmer moaned roughly into your mouth, and you felt it go right through you. 

Starbug jerked. You fell apart as the ship heaved to one side, then the other. You gasped for breath, chests heaving together. The lights flickered and then, with a sickening tug, you slingshotted out of the psi-moon’s atmosphere.  

After you caught your balance, you looked back at Rimmer only to find tears shining in his eyes. Feeling sick, you glanced up. The ‘H’ was back in the centre of his forehead. He was a hologram again. You blinked and your vision blurred. There were tears in your eyes too. 

“Man!” Lister laughed, slapping Kryten on the shoulder. “That was a close one, eh? Another victory for the boys from the Dwarf.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Starbug tilted at an alarming angle, sending you all sprawling across the cargo hold. There was no one at the helm.

Still trying to keep upright, you staggered into the cockpit behind the others, just as Lister and Cat fell into the pilots’ seats. 

Beside you, Rimmer’s chest was still heaving, though it was obviously simulated now. You wondered how it must feel, to be alive for days and then snap violently back to a half-life. You thought his ragged breaths and flushed cheeks must be an instinctive response, just a habit, as if he hadn't noticed he no longer needed to pant or clutch onto the ship for balance. 

“It was all baloney, wasn't it?” he said suddenly.

“What was?”

Lister was still beaming away, more than happy to get away from the psi-moon. 

“All that hugging stuff back there. It was just a way of escaping, wasn't it? I mean, you didn't really feel that, deep down, I'm an okay sort of bloke. That I'm not such a bad old stick once you get to know me. You didn't really mean any of that, did you?”

The others paused briefly to glance at each other, then responded as one.

“No.”

Rimmer’s face fell. 

“So it was all rubbish.” He turned to you. “All of it?”

You didn’t know what to say. Your time on the moon seemed to be fading away around you, like it had all been a shared bad dream. None of it seemed real now. But your lips were still tingling from the force behind Rimmer’s kisses, and you could feel the ghost of his hands on your hips, your back, and in your hair. 

Luckily, a warning light flared up on the console. It flashed red, whirring erratically. You knew Starbug well enough by now to know what it meant. 

“We’ve taken on a lot of water,” Kryten said. “The engines will need draining if we’re going to keep a balanced flight path.”

“I’ll go,” you said, not waiting for a response before you ducked out of the cockpit, happy to have an excuse to get away from Rimmer. 

But you didn’t get far. Simulated footsteps followed yours, hurried and anxious, then you felt the tell-tale warmth of Rimmer’s hand passing through your upper arm. 

“Lefty,” he said, then murmured your real name.

It made you stop but you kept your head bowed. You couldn’t bear to look at him.

“Those things you said…”

You shook your head.

“I was just trying to get us out of there, Rimmer.”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as Rimmer’s shoulders sank. When you finally worked up the courage to turn and look at him, his mouth was hanging slightly open.

He looked so confused, like he couldn’t for the life of him, or what was left of it, figure out what he’d done wrong. You didn’t blame him.

“And the kiss?” 

He spoke in a hushed voice so that the others wouldn’t overhear, as if you hadn’t just snogged him in front of the whole crew, kissed him like your life depended on it. Because it depended on it. 

Friends. It was all you were ever going to be. You couldn’t touch him, couldn’t live as long as he would. He’d deserted you with barely a second thought and took weeks to understand why it had hurt you. 

Rimmer was still as selfish and spineless and arrogant as the day you met. You just weren’t right for each other, and since there was no way you were ever going to be able to touch him again and he had given no indication that he felt the same way, there didn’t seem to be much sense in trying. 

“Good acting,” you muttered, already turning away to leave. “I’m wasted as a linguist. Sorry, engines.”

“So you don’t…” Rimmer skirted round you and held out a hand, stopping you from going any further. “You’re not…”

“What?”

He shook his head. 

“You kissed me.”

“We were going to die, Arn. Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

“So it was just? What?” Rimmer frowned. “Another trick?”

“Like I said,” You took a breath, trying in vain to slow your racing heart. “I would’ve done anything to get us out of there. That’s all it was, Arn.”

Rimmer twisted his mouth, and for a moment you thought he might say more, but he didn’t. Finally, he appeared to give in. His throat contracted as he swallowed hard, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

Regret seeped through your blood, cold as the stars that sailed by outside. You began to move past him but something, something stupid and selfish, held you back. 

“But you know,” you said. “You kissed me back.”

“Well, yes! I thought…”

“What?”

“Well, I thought you were…”

“What, Arn?”

Please, you thought. Please just say it. Say anything. Say something that will let me know you feel the same way I do. Say something that will convince me this wasn’t a huge mistake.

But Rimmer visibly clammed up again. The moment was gone. Things were back to normal. His back straightened and his mouth drew into a thin line. 

“Like you said,” He cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the floor. “We were about to die. People do crazy things when they’re…”

You nodded faintly. 

“Right.”  

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you watched each other. Rimmer didn’t try to speak again. It seemed you’d finally shut him up. But that was okay, you’d run out of things to say too. Except it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay at all. 

Finally, you sighed. 

“Sorry. Engines.”

“Okay.”

You moved past him, and this time, Rimmer didn’t try to stop you.

Chapter Text

“Right, so,” Rimmer shot you a wobbly smile over his shoulder. “You’re going to laugh at this.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Am I?”

“Er… No.” 

Standing in the doorway of Starbug’s cockpit, you tried to read the scanner over his shoulder, but the screen warped and fizzled. 

Some bright idea this was turning out to be. Trying in vain to rebuild your relationship with Rimmer, you had invited him to go planet hopping, just to see what you could find and stave off the boredom of deep space for a while. It was just the two of you, which had been nice at first, but when Starbug had failed to take off again, you suddenly felt very alone.

“There's something wrong with the engine,” Rimmer narrowed his eyes at the screen, trying to make sense of the half-gibberish it spouted. “Scanner says the intake manifold is faulty.”

“What’s an intake manifold?”

“It supplies fresh air to the cylinders. It, the throttle body, the filter, and the fuel delivery system ensure the proper mixture of air and fuel is burnt by the engine.”

“Right, so…” 

You let the names whirl around your head for a second before giving in. There was no point trying to understand any of that, maybe later when you were home safe and had the time, but definitely not now.

“We can’t take off?”

Rimmer shook his head. 

“No.”

“And we can’t fix it because-” 

“I can’t touch anything and you don’t know how.”

“And we can’t call for help because-”

“The comms are also down.”

“Right. Okay.” 

You stared at Rimmer’s back, right between his shoulder blades. His new, puffy red jacket gleamed under the low lights.

There was a pregnant pause. You both seemed to be exhausting every possible ‘what now?’ in your head. Neither of you landed on an idea.

“You were right,” you said eventually. “I’m not laughing.”

Rimmer’s mouth twisted thoughtfully. He glanced at the windscreen.

“At least the view is nice.”

You heaved a sigh like a punctured tire. 

He was right, you were on a lovely planetoid in a very peaceful quadrant. A real turn up for the books.

The northern hemisphere was all ocean, deep and blue and vast. The rest of the planet was made up of rolling, soft, creamy sand. Sometimes the dunes rose thirty to forty feet, marching south as the planet narrowed to its pole. 

You’d been having a nice time. Actually, it was the easiest that things had been with Rimmer for a while. Since the psi-moon, you’d been on edge, always skirting around each other and never quite meeting the other’s eye. Slowly, gingerly, you had rebuilt yourselves. 

Together, you had walked across the sands, keeping your gaze on the horizon, on the lookout for anything that might be of interest. While Rimmer made notes and spoke into his dictaphone, you took photos with the camera Lister had given you to mark your third year aboard Red Dwarf. 

“Used to belong to a mate of mine. Peterson,” he’d said with a sad sort of a smile. “He loved this thing. Someone should get some use out of it, eh?”

So to honour the gift and Lister’s first friend aboard Red Dwarf, you’d taken a leaf out of Rimmer’s book and started to compile an album. You’d seen so many wonderful and terrible places, met so many strange creatures and faced so many mad adventures, you thought someone should start chronicling them all. 

The camera now lay in Starbug’s co-pilot’s chair. Its one eye watched you, unblinking. 

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked. “Just wait here until the others notice we’ve been gone too long?”

“For now.” 

Rimmer seemed less than thrilled by the idea but it was the only plan you had. 

With another pointless sigh, you sank into the pilot’s seat, grabbing your camera on the way down. You let your legs flop over the arm, wedging your back into the corner so that you could lounge comfortably in the old chair. 

“How long do you reckon it’ll be?”

“Who knows.” 

Rimmer slumped in the co-pilot’s chair, his back straight and his eyes forward, watching the waves wash upon the shore just a few metres away. 

“Not long though, I should think,” he added hopefully. “They know we were only popping out. I suppose they’ll start missing you after a few hours and wonder where you’ve got to.”

“They’ll miss you too, Arnold.”

He didn’t bother arguing. Rimmer just scoffed and turned his head away, pretending to look out over the horizon. 

In the distance, a cold blue sun was starting to set. In just a few hours, it would be nighttime, and who knew what might happen on this planetoid then.

You stared out at the slowly darkening sands. There could be all sorts of creatures out there. After everything you’d seen, you wouldn’t be surprised if the beaches opened up and swallowed Starbug whole. Another ship, lost. 

“Are you okay?”

Your worry must have started to show. Rimmer’s soft hazel eyes crossed your face, his brow creased with concern behind his ‘H’. 

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Just this is reminding me of the crash. A bit. I think.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Mm?”

“The crew.”

“Oh. Er, sometimes.” 

His question surprised you. The boys tended to steer clear of the subject. They hadn’t really mentioned it since the day they found you. There was just always something else going on, you supposed.

And you liked that, you liked that they didn’t dwell on things and maybe it had helped you get over everything that had happened to you, in a way. But not a day went by where you didn’t think about that night and mourn your other life.

“We’d only known each there for a few weeks before we were put in stasis. I suppose we had a laugh while we were doing basic training.”

Rimmer leant back into the chair and let his head roll towards you, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“You don’t ever talk about it,” he said. 

It was a question and a statement all wrapped up in one.

You started to fiddle with your camera, any excuse to look away. 

“No one ever asks. And I don’t like remembering, really.”

“Maybe it would help.”

“Talking about it? Maybe. But who’d wanna listen to that?”

Rimmer blew out a long breath.

“Well, there’s always the automated psychiatrist in the med bay, I suppose.”

“Great!”

He smiled slightly, watching as your fingers fidgeted with the dials and buttons on the back of the camera.

“I want to listen,” Rimmer said eventually.

You scoffed.

“You?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t care about other people’s problems, Arnie.”

Laughably, he looked offended.

“I do! I know it may seem like I don’t but…” He let his head roll to look out of the windscreen for a moment, then turned back to you. “I do care about you.”

You watched him, waiting for a sign that he was kidding, that he was lying, but Rimmer merely watched you back, waiting for you to speak. 

Finally, you let out a long breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. 

“When I was assigned, I knew I’d be leaving everything behind. We were travelling to the other end of the universe. I had to say goodbye to all my friends, my family. I was never, ever going to them again, apart from through video messages. But at the time, it felt worthwhile because I would be doing something incredible. For the greater good, you know? Something that mattered. Now I’m stuck here. And it wasn’t worth it at all.”

“There must be some things you like about us.”

“Well, I love you all, don’t get me wrong.” You shot Rimmer a wry smile that he faintly returned. “But I have no useful skills, no future, no purpose. I don’t even know what an intaker manifold is.”

“Intake. It’s a-”

“I know, I know.” You waved a hand. “I just mean, I… I feel like a spare part.”

Rimmer, to his credit, seemed sympathetic. He also seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say to that. And fair enough, it was a worry that had been nagging at you for years. You weren’t expecting any sort of insight, it was just nice to say the words out loud and formulate them into a solid thought. 

That said, you were still surprised when the first thing Rimmer said was,

“Spare parts.”

You frowned.

“What?”

He perked up, his eyes wide and excited. Suddenly he was out of his chair and tumbling out of the cockpit.

“Come with me!”

Rimmer led you to a shelf, raised high above your head in Starbug’s living quarters.

Standing on the couch, you reached up and pulled a grey box down from the shelf. Written across the front in messy black pen were the words ‘Kryten - Emergencies Only’.

“I’d say this counts as an emergency,” Rimmer grinned. “Forget that rubber-headed Akela.”

Laying side by side beneath the console, your legs sticking out and almost tangling, you prised a rectangular cover away from the underside of the controls. 

Beside you, Rimmer hummed to himself, taking in the myriad of wires and strange blinking lights. 

You didn’t question him out loud but a small part of you couldn’t help worrying. Rimmer had failed his exams countless times and really didn’t have a knack for electronics. If pressed, you would’ve said he was much better suited for something creative, what with all his big ideas and colour-coding skills. But he would never in another three million years admit that. 

There was one light not shining. Next to it ran a long number: 839/28027.M_COMMS.765

“Alright,” Rimmer squeezed his eyes shut, wracking his brains. “This isn’t so different from the maintenance work I used to do. It shouldn’t be too difficult?”

He looked at you, practically begging for reassurance. 

You smiled and raised your hands.

“You’ve got this, Arn. Just tell me what to do.”

“Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.”

You bit your tongue, keeping an instinctive suggestive response trapped behind your teeth.

It was always so easy to flirt with him. Maybe because he was always so receptive. Maybe because you just loved doing it. Maybe because every time you did, Rimmer would look at you all dopey and flustered, his eyelids heavy and his lips parted. But you didn’t think you could take a look like that right now, not when you were in such close proximity. 

“So,” You wriggled your shoulders, getting more comfortable on the cold, hard floor. “What’s first?”

Together, you slowly, nervously fixed the comms. While Rimmer tried to remember everything he’d learnt from his textbooks, you waited for each instruction patiently, only moving when he was sure of what to do next.

You unscrewed a tiny panel, checking each part to make sure they weren’t fried, switched out wires and cogs and an all manner of other bits and bobs until finally, Rimmer seemed satisfied. 

“Connect this wire to here.” 

He pointed at a threatening red wire, then a stubby copper cylinder.  

You shot Rimmer a cautious sideways glance.

“Are you sure?”

You were putting an awful lot of trust in a man who had killed himself and several thousand others because of a mechanical fault he failed to fix. The ‘H’ on his forehead - “A mark of Able,” Rimmer had once said. “Rather than a mark of Cain.” - was a constant reminder of that mistake. 

You expected him to hesitate but Rimmer nodded, his gaze steady. And you realised you trusted him, without a shadow of a doubt.

You wrapped the frayed wire around the cylinder until it was secured, then tucked your fingertip over it and gave an experimental tug, but it didn’t give way. 

“That’s it,” Rimmer murmured, and you could hear the smile in his voice before you turned your head to him. “That’s perfect. You’re amazing.” 

You were glad it was so dark under the console, your face was starting to burn. 

“Now what?”

Rimmer shrugged.

“Hold your breath, count to three and make a wish.”

So you did. You pulled in a long breath, then reached up and flipped the comms switch. The light flickered, then began to burn a bright glorious green.

Grinning, you turned your head to Rimmer, only to find he was already looking at you. Wedged under the console, there was hardly any room between you. His head was level with yours and if you’d been able to, you knew your body would have been pressed up against his.

The lights above you scattered colour across Rimmer’s face, catching in his hair, his eyes, the corner of his mouth. You’d read about old Earth traditions, about how your ancestors would hang mistletoe in doorways and kiss to celebrate the turn of winter. That’s how it felt, just you and Rimmer under the warm lights, pressed up against each other, practically sharing one breath. You were halfway way out of the dark. 

“What did you wish for?” you whispered.

Slowly, though without any hint of shyness or uncertainty, Rimmer’s gaze fell to your lips. 

Heart racing, you had to force yourself not to wriggle around too much, but you weren’t used to being looked at so closely.

If you could send a message to yourself - to the you that spent her first few weeks aboard Red Dwarf terrified and confused - you thought you might try and warn her that she’d soon be falling for the moron who, at the time, had avoided you like the plague. She wouldn’t believe you, that you knew for sure.

“You know you glow, don’t you,” you said quietly. 

Rimmer frowned.

“Just a bit,” you added quickly. “You’re- I know your light bee projects- You just- When it’s dark, you glow.”

It was something you only noticed after a few years of knowing him. If you caught him in the right light and he was, for once, fairly still, instead of jittering and fussing about the place, the light Rimmer gave off was soft and oddly ethereal for someone so intensely irritating.

Rimmer still hadn’t looked away.

“No one’s ever told me that before,” he murmured. 

“Oh,” Embarrassed, you gave him a weak smile. “Maybe it’s just me who notices.”

Rimmer opened his mouth but a whining, fizzling chord of static shot out of the comms, so abruptly and so sharply that you jumped and clunked your head on the underside of the console.

“Ow, fuck!”

“Lefty? Rimmer? Is that you?”

You watched Rimmer’s eyes widen as you both recognised the voice at the same time.

“Lister!”

You scrambled out from under the console and slammed your hand down in the receiver. 

“Dave, can you hear me?”

“I hear you, loud and clear! How’s the honeymoon, guys?”

“Lister, we’ve broken down,” Rimmer sighed. “We need you to come get us.”

“No way! Why didn’t you say? Have you got coordinates?”

After relaying all the relevant information, Lister signed off with his typical happy-go-lucky cheer, and you were alone again. 

“See?” Rimmer grinned at you. “Not so useless, after all.”

“I didn’t do anything. You knew how to fix it, I was just a pair of hands.”

“We make a good team.”

“Yeah, right.” You snorted as you flopped back down in the pilot’s chair again. “I’m just your- What’s them sticks with the grabber at the end?”

“Grabbers.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Rimmer made himself comfortable in the co-pilot’s chair again. 

He looked much more at ease now that he knew help was on the way. You wondered if there was still a part of him, even now, that felt responsible for you, even though you weren’t even officially part of his crew and, actually, a few rungs higher than him. Actually, you were practically on a completely different ladder but you thought it best not to mention that. 

“You’d be good at that,” Rimmer smirked. “I remember you being pretty grabby on that psi-moon.”

The air in Starbug shifted. Your smile vanished with the warm atmosphere, like someone had opened the cargo door mid-flight.

You hadn’t talked about the kiss since it happened. Rimmer hadn’t brought it up after the way you snapped at him, and you couldn’t even really believe it had happened. 

You could still feel it though, when you went to bed at night and everything was calm and quiet and dark. Your body remembered the way he had pressed into you, the way his mouth had moved against yours so urgently, how Rimmer had chased your lips and moaned into your mouth when you squeezed his waist, the first physical contact he’d felt in millennia. 

Cheeks burning, you sneered back. 

“And you were pretty grabby on the Enlightenment from what I remember.” 

It was a low blow. For the most part, you’d let the hurt of Rimmer’s abandonment go. It was years ago now and the pain had dulled; it was poor form to use it against him like that. But sometimes a sharp uppercut was the only thing that made Rimmer think about what he was saying. 

His smirk sank into a look so guilty, you almost apologised. But you didn’t. Instead, you pushed through the cold fog to pick at the old wound. 

“How did it feel to have sex for the first time in three million years?” you asked quietly, hoping a bit of humour might grease the wheels. “Be honest.”

Rimmer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Oh, it was… It was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Well, I was- You know she was nice. I don’t think I was really in the right state of mind. Or even in my right mind. I don’t know. You go from feeling excluded and pointless to suddenly being able to feel and eat and- It made me go a bit mad, I think. Like when we swapped bodies and I ate that entire Christmas dinner.”

“Yeah, I didn’t appreciate that one.”

“But you remember how it felt? To be a hologram?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was-” You hesitated. For some reason, you felt the urge to confess. “I looked.”

Rimmer frowned. 

“What?”

“I asked Holly to- I looked.”

“Oh.” 

It went quiet again. You watched colour rise up from under Rimmer’s jacket. 

“Oh, well,” He swallowed hard. “That’s alright.”

Suddenly, Rimmer could look everywhere apart from you.

You smiled.

“You looked too, didn’t you.”

“Yes, but only very briefly and it was dark.” 

Silence fell again. You didn’t think you’d ever seen Rimmer look so deeply uncomfortable. The redness had risen up to his cheeks now. He was almost the same colour as his jacket. 

“So,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “What did you think?”

“Honestly?” You tilted your head, pretending to think about it just to make him sweat. “Good.”

Rimmer brightened. 

“Good?”

“Yeah, very good. Great, even.”

“Really?”

“And, er…?”

“Oh, yeah, Io, amazing. Marvellous.”

Before you knew it, you had burst out laughing. 

“Amazing? Really?”

“God, yes. You’re- Well, I’ve always thought you were beautiful but…”

He seemed to realise what he’d said long after the words had left his mouth, but to your delight, Rimmer didn’t try to backtrack or bail, though he did look a little sheepish.

Again, your mind wandered to the man you met all those years ago. That Rimmer would have made that fun choking, squeaking sound he used to make whenever he accidentally showed a bit of humanity. He would’ve legged it or changed the subject or muttered something insulting. Not now though. 

The man sitting across from you was still as stubborn and arrogant as ever. He got on your nerves at least three times a day and he was never happy if he wasn’t belittling the people around him. Rimmer was so highly strung you could run a bow across him and play Vivaldi. He was ill-tempered and smug and- He made you smile. He made you laugh. When you were with him, you didn't feel quite so lost and alone. He thought you were beautiful. And when you’d kissed him, he’d kissed you back. 

Lister was right. That smarmy git. He was always right. 

“Rimmer, I-” 

A low, grumbling sort of sound interrupted you.

You sat up, throwing an arm around the headrest so that you could twist around in your seat. You couldn’t see anything but it seemed to be coming from deep in the ship.

“Arn?”

“I heard it.”

He had sat up ramrod straight, his eyes wide. Rimmer glanced at the scanner beside him. It appeared to produce no useful information, and out of range of Holly, you had nothing more to go on. 

Like startled animals, you slowly picked yourselves up out of your chairs and headed deeper into Starbug.

Surprisingly, Rimmer led the way. He stuck his arms out like a scarecrow to keep you back by a pace, and if you hadn’t been so nervous, you might’ve fallen in love with him a little bit more. 

The engines growled as they rolled and chewed up what little fuel remained. The low, steady hum of machinery that usually accompanied Starbug sitting in neutral had been shunted up a pitch, punctured by a rough, grating sound, like a rock tumbler in an empty oil drum. 

“Is that the… Integer manifest?” you whispered.

It felt like you were watching a dangerous animal, and to move too suddenly or to make any noise might startle it into attacking.

“Er…” Rimmer had gone even paler than usual. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

He took a tentative step forwards and almost immediately, the engines whirred harder and spat out a spray of sparks. 

Panicking, you tried to grab his arm to pull him back, but stopped before your hand passed through him. 

“Be careful!”

“It’s fine, I know what I’m-” 

The engines sparked again. Suddenly, the hurdy-gurdying flew up to a pitch so high, you had to cover your ears. You stumbled back as the engine roared. Smoke poured out and pooled around your feet.

“Oh, smeg,” Rimmer muttered.

A shriek of electricity, looking for a home, shot out of the engine and into the floor by your feet. It was a close call. Then suddenly, another bolt shot out. You didn’t have time to react. Before you could stop him, Rimmer jumped in front of you, his arms spread wide. Then he was gone.

“No!”

You stumbled to the floor, landing unceremoniously on your arse. But your eyes stayed fixed on the small, cylindrical chunk of metal that fell to the floor at your feet. Rimmer’s light bee.

“Oh, you fucking- You fucking idiot, Arnold.”

The engine gave in, collapsing in on itself and finally, finally giving up the ghost. It hissed and groaned as it began to cool, and you tumbled forward to scoop up Rimmer’s light bee. 

“Oh, God. Oh, God, your-”

You cradled it between two hands, more precious than any diamond. The shell was cracked and splintered, and from in-between the fissures leaked a small puff of grey smoke. 

“You stupid man. What have you done?”

You sat back, collapsing against the wall of the ship. Holding Rimmer’s light bee aloft, you tried to catch any sign that it was still working, that he was still alive. There was a faint light within, a dim glow, just an ember, but it was something. 

With a sob, you pressed it against your chest, your instincts telling you to keep him close, keep him warm. You squeezed the light bee in your palm, so hard that you were almost afraid of making the cracks worse. 

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” you whispered. “I don’t know if this thing is even working. But if it is, and you can, I want you to listen to me closely, Arnold Rimmer.”

You pulled the light bee back so that you could look him in the eye. Held tightly in your hand, it seemed so small and helpless. 

“If you wake up,” you said. “If this thing blinks into life again and you appear, yapping and snarking about Io knows what, I promise I will kiss you so hard you’ll see stars.”

As if to prove you weren’t lying, you pressed your lips to his light bee, then again just to be sure.

You stared at it, as if it were a magic lamp, as if kissing it might break the spell and wake him up again, like in the fairytales you’d grown up with. But he didn’t. 

“Just come back.” You pressed the light bee back to your chest, hoping he’d be able to hear your heartbeat and take solace from it. “Please come back.”

It was hours before they found you.

Night had fallen completely and the ship was still and cold. You didn’t want to miss the others if they passed by, so you stayed in the cockpit rather than heading to the sleeping quarters. 

You were just starting to nod off, Rimmer’s light bee still clutched tightly to your chest, when you saw a flash of white light pass by the ship.

Just a few minutes later, the door slid open and Lister stepped in, a cigarette perched debonairly between his smiling lips.

“Y’alright, miss?” He removed his ciggie so he could grin at you. “Your taxi’s here.”

You had never been so relieved to see anyone in your life. But you had only one thought as Lister came over to you.

You held the light bee up to him, tears blurring your vision. 

“Help him.”

Chapter Text

Perched on the examining table in the holosuite, you felt like a little kid waiting to see the dreaded doctor. Your legs swung helplessly under the table, keeping a steady rhythm that mirrored the beeping and chirping of the machines all around you.

Beside you, now sprouting wires in every colour of the rainbow, sat Rimmer’s light bee. Kryten had hooked him up to the computers, and now everything that made up Rimmer, every personality quirk, every vocal tick, every freckle on his body, was listed before you on a screen.

The holosuite was unbearably tense. Kryten hadn’t said anything for a while. As he read from the screens all around him, you felt sick to your stomach.

Cat hung in the doorway, more curious than concerned, but Lister stood beside Kryten, urging him to hurry up and give you all the verdict. 

“It’s faint, sir,” Kryten said solemnly. “But his light bee is still emitting vital signals.”

You sat up, heart pounding. The fingers you’d been knotting together anxiously for the past hour finally stilled.

“He’s still alive?”

“So to speak, ma’am. We just need to fix the casing and he should be fine.”

Another anxious wait ensued. Kryten seemed to grow uncomfortable with you all watching, so he sent you off to have dinner and promised he’d let you know when the light bee had been repaired. 

You barely ate, you just sat with Lister and Cat, staring moodily at the table until they forced you to have a piece of toast. Churning and grating like the abandoned Starbug’s engine, your mind couldn’t rest.

A million questions swarmed all around you. Would Kryten really be able to bring Rimmer back? What if he did and he’d changed somehow? Rimmer’s personality was stored in a computer chip, if a line of code was misplaced, he might be a completely different man. What if he’d forgotten all that you’d built together? What if he did come back, your Arnold, and you weren’t brave enough to tell him what he meant to you? 

You stared at your plate. Time ticked on, agonisingly slow. 

When Kryten’s voice finally echoed over the speakers, you were up out of your chair before he’d even finished speaking. 

The light bee still rested on the bed when you all piled back into the holosuite, though it seemed in much better shape than the last time you saw it. Kryten had managed to fix the cracks in its casing and had replaced what few parts he could. 

Gingerly, you picked it up, running the pad of your thumb over its side. 

“C’mon, Arn,” you murmured. “Just do this for me. Please. Just hang on.”

With your crewmates eyes on your back, your kissed the light bee one last time, then gently laid it back down on the bed. 

You moved to stand beside Lister, who nudged your arm with his elbow.

”That was sweet.”

”Shut up, Dave.”

His face set with grim determination, Kryten counted down from three, then flicked a switch.

The light bee glowed for a moment, fizzing like TV static, until finally, Rimmer appeared on the bed. He clutched at his chest, then at his stomach where the bolt of electricity had struck him. His body heaved as he drew in shaky breath after shaky breath. 

“What happened?” he asked, glancing between his friends until finally, his eyes settled on you.

Rimmer’s shoulders sank a little, his face softening, but you couldn’t enjoy the fact that he was obviously pleased to see you. All your anxious energy had twisted and grown into anger, and suddenly you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than to shout at Rimmer until your voice was hoarse  

“You fried your light bee, you stupid bastard! You stepped right in front of the engine.”

Rimmer frowned, still panting. 

“It looked like it was going to explode!”

“Exactly! So why did you throw yourself at it, you bloody idiot!”

“If I hadn’t, it would’ve hit you!”

“I-” You stumbled, taken-aback. “Oh.”

It took a lot to leave you speechless, Rimmer knew that better than anyone, but you stared at him, completely stunned. He hadn’t been trying to get closer, he’d been putting himself between you and the danger.

Rimmer was staring right back at you, and now you suspected his chest was rising and falling raggedly for an entirely different reason. 

“Is it fixed?” he asked Kryten, though his eyes never left you. “My light bee?”

“Yes, sir. You may want to take it easy for a while but you’re essentially healed. It’s lucky that the lieutenant kept you so close.”

You frowned.

“What?”

Lister snorted so loudly, you almost missed what Kryten said next. 

“Electrical impulses, ma’am. The light bee is a very sensitive piece of technology. The electrical impulses in your body kept it charged.” 

Lister looked so pleased, you could practically hear his smug smile.  

“You must have been holding on awfully tight, Lefty.”

Face flushed, you tried to stammer through an explanation. Suddenly, everyone was looking at you and everyone seemed to find it very amusing, apart from Rimmer. He looked like he might keel forward off the bed and pull you into a tight hug. God, you wished he would.

“You saved me,” Rimmer said, his voice soft with disbelief.

When he looked at you like that, so unusually open and honest, it was difficult to remember how to breathe.

“I didn’t do anything.” 

“You kept me safe.” Rimmer slid off the bed, his gaze fixed on you. “You didn’t even know if there was any chance of restarting my light bee but you didn’t let me go.” 

You frowned. The thought was inconceivable.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I didn’t think… I thought perhaps, after everything…”

“You’re my best friend,” you said firmly.

Slowly, Rimmer began to smile. It was only small at first, he was so very out of practice, but soon it grew until the corners of eyes crinkled and you found yourself smiling right back. You were going to be alright.

Later that night, long after everyone else had gone to sleep, you were still awake, staring at the wall, looking for patterns in the patchy grey paint.

Though your body felt heavy and weary, you couldn’t get your mind to rest. So much had happened over the last 24 hours, so much had changed, processing it all could take all night. 

The ship was never quiet. There was the low, constant hum of the engine, the rumble of the scutters as they rolled down the corridors, and the soft chirps and hisses behind the walls, the sounds of Red Dwarf navigating its enormous body through the stars.

These noises were all so mundane to you now, they were practically white noise, but it meant the slightest unexpected sound seemed much more jarring than it usually would. When you heard someone walking along the corridor outside your room, then stop right by your door, your heart jumped into your throat.

You waited, lifting your head from the pillow. If it was one of the others, they would knock, then press their palm to the keypad and let themselves in. There was only one person who couldn’t.

Rimmer softly called your name through the door.

Heart pounding, you slipped out from under the covers and opened the door.

Rimmer was still in his pale blue pyjamas, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his eyes heavy. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, like he couldn’t sleep either.

“Hello,” he whispered. “I came to see if- Well, I wondered if I might…”

You laughed quietly. 

“Come in, Arn.”

You turned and crawled back into bed, then patted the thin mattress, just as you had done all those years ago, the first time you shared a bed.

You could hardly remember it now, even without the drunken haze over the evening, but you remembered how it had felt to see Rimmer with his guard down for the first time, how it felt to have him close to you. It was the first full night’s sleep you’d had since you came aboard Red Dwarf; no restlessness, no loneliness, no nightmares. All because of Rimmer.

”Are you okay?” he asked as he followed you to bed.

He was so tall and gangly, watching him awkwardly clamber into the bunk beside you without falling out or accidentally kicking you (even though either would have been difficult) made you smile. 

“Mm. Tired. But I can’t sleep.”

When Rimmer finally rested his head on the pillow beside yours, you watched each other, just lazily blinking and smiling at each other in the darkness.

His hand twitched nervously at his side, his long, elegant fingers twisting over and under each other, a substitute for the way his right leg would usually bounce agitatedly. You wondered if he even knew he was doing it. 

“Today was…”

Rimmer trailed off, his gaze getting lost somewhere near your shoulder. He looked exhausted. 

“Yeah.” You smiled. “Thank you again. For saving my life.”

He huffed, reaching down to flatten his hand against his stomach.

“You won’t catch me doing that again. I’m still sore.”

You laughed quietly, shifting around under the covers so that you could see him properly and slipping an arm under the pillow to prop up your head. The movement caused your hair to fall in front of your face. Rimmer moved to tuck it behind your ear for you but stopped himself with his hand raised in midair.

Having him so close still sent your pulse racing but for some reason, it seemed so normal to have him in bed with you. Rimmer’s long legs practically reached the other end for the bunk and your hand rested nervously between you, but it felt right. Good. Safe.

You could feel the warmth coming off him. It felt so natural, you could almost forget he wasn’t tangible. But that seemed to matter less now, somehow. If you really pushed yourself to think about it - even though it made your stomach twist and your heart stumble - you found that not being able to touch Rimmer suddenly didn’t seem like much of an obstacle anymore. Still, your hands ached to feel him.

You watched Rimer’s eyes drift close, only to open again a second later, like he was barely holding onto consciousness. Part of you wanted to let him sleep but for once in your life, the small, selfish section of your brain spoke far louder than the rest.

“I really wish I could touch you.” 

Your pulse was steady and strong, your voice low but sure. For whatever reason, the mental block between your heart and your mouth was gone. It had been knocked down the moment Rimmer proved he could be selfless and brave when he needed to be.

You wished it hadn’t taken the sickening jolt of thinking he was gone forever to finally give you courage, but you couldn’t face keeping it all to yourself one second longer. Telling Rimmer how you really felt wasn’t anywhere near as terrifying as almost losing him.

He didn’t seem taken-aback, in fact his expression barely changed. And why would he be? Rimmer already knew because he felt it too. 

You watched his face as his hand slid from resting on his thigh, down to the mattress, then up through the small gap left between you. Your eyes never left his as he raised his hand up and let his fingertips ghost across your cheek.

“I wish I could touch you too,” he whispered.

Feeling brave and strangely confident, you asked,

“What would you do? If you could touch me? Right now?”

“Honestly?”

“Show me.” 

Rimmer hesitated, then slowly raised his right hand to his left cheek and let it rest there. 

You mirrored him, letting your palm settle against your own cheek, your thumb running along your cheekbone, just as his did.

As you watched, Rimmer began to gently move his thumb back and forth across his cheek, his eyelids heavy, his barely-there smile soft and tired.

“What would you do?” he asked. “If you could touch me?”

You didn’t even have to think. You turned your head until you could press a kiss to the soft part just below your thumb. You kept your mouth there, your eyes closed, and imagined it was Rimmer’s lips you were kissing.

When you opened your eyes again, Rimmer was watching you with a sad little smile. After a moment, he turned his head and kissed his hand, just as you’d shown him.

“Please don’t try and save my life like that again,” you said, shaking your head slightly.

Rimmer frowned.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m in love with you. And I couldn’t bear losing you.”

Again, Rimmer barely reacted. You waited with bated breath but the only sign that he’d heard you was the way his broad shoulders relaxed, like he was trying to hide just how painfully relieved he felt. After all, you supposed, again, it wasn't anything he didn’t already know. You’d adored him for years, you were sure even the scutters knew by now.

You watched him, waiting for an answer. You barely breathed as Rimmer’s gaze crossed your face, his thumb still grazing back and forth across his own cheek.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can promise that,” Rimmer said at last.

Barely able to hold back a shuddering breath, you frowned.

“Why not?”

“Because I love you too.”

Neither his voice nor his gaze wavered. The only sign that Rimmer was as nervous as you was the long breath he slowly pushed out through his nose, making his stupid nostrils flare. 

The ship was still humming quietly. Its sonorous drone made you shiver, despite your warm covers. At least, you thought it was the ship. It could very well have been Rimmer’s low voice, or the way his eyes stayed fixed on yours. 

You didn’t even realise you were smiling until you tried to talk and your own happiness got in the way.

“You lo-” You laughed softly, closing your eyes for a moment. You weren’t entirely certain you weren’t dreaming. “How long have you..?”

“A while. A long, long while.” With his free hand, Rimmer grazed his fingers past your cheek again, then pressed his palm over his heart. “When I get a body, I promise-”

“Don’t,” You shook your head, then shuffled nearer until you were as close as it was possible for you to be. “You’re enough, just as you are.” 

Somehow, you’d always known it. And maybe that’s what had scared you so much. Not being able to touch Rimmer had been a good excuse to not think about it, or rationalise it, or even admit it to yourself, let alone him. But you didn’t need to touch him, not really. It would be nice but- You loved him, you loved him so much, and he loved you too, and that was more than enough for you. 

Finally, you could feel your body starting to give in to the night. As you sank into the bed and sleep gradually overwhelmed you, the thin mattress and jutting metal frame felt soft as a feather. Rimmer loved you.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the warmth of his body, just a few inches from yours. You heard him sigh deeply and subconsciously copied him.

“Stay,” you murmured, your mind and body suddenly so heavy and drowsy, you could barely form the words. “Stay with me.”

Rimmer smiled.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter Text

It had been a nice day. 

This wasn’t particularly notable or odd; you’d settled very happily into life aboard Red Dwarf, and now Starbug. It’s just that the general day-to-day usually tended to involve running from an insane creature, something exploding, and quite a lot of arguing. Boredom was often just as dangerous. But, so far, today had been lovely.

You had been lying on your bunk for most of the afternoon, a book raised above your head, your arms outstretched in front of you. There wasn’t much to do in the tiny ship; thankfully you’d thought to stock up on activities before you lost Red Dwarf. 

When the position grew too tiring, you lowered your arms until your elbows rested on the mattress, the book now too close to be comfortable, but you didn’t mind.

Across the room, at a low table in the centre of the sleeping quarters, Rimmer was sat with his hands inside a perspex box. He’d had it for years apparently. Kryten had found the specifications in the holosuite a few months after he came back to the ship. Rimmer had never really found a lot of use for it. Now, all you had was time, and Rimmer was finally setting some aside to enjoy himself. 

Inside the Holo-Box, heavy black gloves covered his hands, allowing Rimmer to gingerly cradle an old-fashioned Airfix model.

As he carefully dabbed a paintbrush against the side of something called a Spitfire, you smiled fondly to yourself.

Yes, it had been a lovely day.

“I’m gonna say it.”

Rimmer didn’t even bother looking up.

“Don’t.”

“I’m gonna.”

“I’m concentrating.”

With a sigh, you turned back to your book.

“I just think you should know-”

“Darling…”

“You’re much artsier than you give yourself credit for!”

Rimmer finally turned his head towards you, very obviously trying hard not to roll his eyes. He’d always been a bit softer with you, and lately he’d been trying harder to be less of a dick, but he still had trouble sometimes.

“This isn’t art,” he said firmly. “This is… Engineering.”

Your fond smile only grew. 

“You’re painting model aeroplanes, Arn.”

“Exactly! Aeroplanes. That’s technical stuff!”

He was so determined to ignore any sense of his own creativity, you almost didn’t want to argue with him. Almost. 

Plus he looked handsome today, and who were you to argue with Rimmer when he looked so good? His short-sleeved red shirt was enticingly soft, and those braces pulled tight over his broad shoulders constantly played on your mind. Sometimes, you came close to asking him to put his puffy uniform jacket on, because the sight of his lithe forearms and strong chest was almost too much to bear. 

“Okay,” You shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

You turned over on the bed so that you lay on your stomach, keeping your book open with your fingertips pressed against the twin swells of its pages. 

“But maybe if you explored your creative side rather than berating yourself for not passing exams about things your brain doesn’t compute as well…”

Half-smiling and doing a bad job of hiding it, Rimmer shot you a weary look.

“That’s enough therapy out of you, Lefty. Let me concentrate.”

Grinning, you turned back to your book.

“Yes, dear.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rimmer’s back straighten, just a little. 

There had been a marked shift in his confidence, in the general way he held himself, since your matching confessions that night. You hadn’t noticed it immediately, Rimmer had always been a little gentler about himself when it was you he was talking to, he’d learnt his lesson, so it took you a while to realise the change. 

You couldn’t touch him, but there were a thousand other ways to show your affection. So far, you’d discovered that warm words, sweet names, and soft compliments worked the best. They made Rimmer’s shoulders sink, his jaw relax, as if just having someone be kind to him for once in his life was enough to loosen the vice around his chest. And he smiled more now. That was perhaps your favourite thing of all. 

You turned your head and watched him work. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his curls falling across his forehead. There, at the corner of his mouth, his tongue was sticking out ever-so-slightly. 

You let out a sigh, long and deep, and sank further into the bed. Folding your arms over your book, you rested your head there and silently watched Rimmer work, just enjoying the sight of him relaxed, comfortable, happy.

What you wouldn’t give to run your hands over those strong shoulders, to slip your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and tug slightly, just to see what he’d do. You couldn’t help imagining Rimmer’s eyes rolling back into his head, his taut back arching as you slipped into his lap and rocked your hips against his. He really was torture sometimes. 

“What’s your book about?”

Your mind still swimming with thoughts of all the lovely sounds Rimmer might make as you grazed your teeth against his neck, it took you a moment to realise what he’d asked 

You hummed, trying to cast your mind back. You couldn’t even recall the title of the novel you stole from a chef’s quarters all the way down on C Deck. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” you admitted. “I haven’t been concentrating, really.”

“Hm? What were you thinking about?” 

“You.”

You beamed at Rimmer when he turned to look at you, surprised.

“Me?”

You hummed, smiling.

“Y’know. What it’ll be like when I finally get to kiss you. Touch you.” 

A pink tinge made its way across Rimmer’s cheeks and down his neck, almost blending into his bright red shirt. He visibly gulped, obviously thinking along the same lines as you. Then he looked back down at his model aeroplane, at the lengths he had to go to for something so simple. 

“You really believe that’ll happen?” he asked softly. 

“Don’t you?” 

“I… I’m not sure. I used to. I hope it does.” 

Rimmer went quiet then, his gaze still fixed on his model. 

You carefully closed your book and slipped off the bed, curling up in the chair beside his instead. 

“It will,” you said firmly. “I know it will. And until then, I have a very active imagination.”

To your delight, that made Rimmer glance up. He raised his eyebrows, a smirk tugging gently at the corner of his mouth. 

“Is that so?”

You hummed and watched Rimmer’s gaze grow unfocused. 

“You just wait. And, I mean, there’s always Better Than Life? I could touch you there, couldn’t I? We could have all sorts of fun.”

You watched, beaming, as his cheeks, then his ears, slowly began to turn bright red. Oh, he was fun. It was almost too easy, but it was fun.

Rimmer was sweet but he would always have a stick up his arse, it’s just how he was raised. Getting a physical reaction out of him, especially when he didn’t even have a proper physical presence, was always a brilliant game. 

You leaned over the table a little more, sliding your elbow across its surface and resting there in his eye-line, so that he couldn’t help but look at you.

“Oh, Arnie, you’re blushing.”

“I am not.” 

“You are!” 

Shaking his head, Rimmer tried very hard to pretend to concentrate on his model. 

“I don’t think I can blush.” 

“Oh, honey,” You grinned. “You definitely can.”

He shot you another weary look but he was still smiling. 

“It’s a lovely idea,” he spoke with an unexpected gentleness. “But I think I’d rather wait.”

“Hm?”

“When I kiss you, I want it to be real. I want to be able to feel you properly.” 

The air in the room shifted. Suddenly, you couldn’t remember what you’d been teasing him about.

All around you, outside the emerald, pockmarked hull of your adopted home, galaxies and stars whirled around each other, intertwining and exploding and dying and creating, over and over again. And here, in your stark grey quarters, in the middle of it all, Rimmer wanted to kiss you so badly, he was willing to wait for the impossible. 

You watched as his smile grew. Rimmer’s eyes were fixed somewhere near your mouth, any vain attempts to hold your gaze long-forgotten.

Laughing softly, you pressed the backs of your fingers to your cheek. 

“You’re going to make me blush.”

“Well, now, there’s a turn up for the books.”

Rimmer looked pleased with himself. Again, you considered how far he’d come. It wasn’t enough just to show him some positive reinforcement. Even when the boys were kind to him, Rimmer either didn’t think he deserved it or refused to believe they were being genuine. It had taken a lot of time, effort, and soft words to cultivate that lovely smile.

“I don’t mind waiting, you know.” 

You nodded your head to the side, gesturing for him to remove his right arm from the Holo-Box.

“I love you, Arn. I don’t need anything physical. Even though I am constantly insanely horny.” 

As you slipped your hand inside the leather glove, Rimmer gaped at you.

“I really do that to you?” 

“Is that so hard to believe?” 

“Yes, actually!” 

Your fingers now safely nestled inside the thick, sturdy glove, you twisted your wrist and tapped your index finger against the back of Rimmer’s hand. 

“Well, you do. I’m always thinking about you.” 

He flinched. You couldn’t blame him, it had been so long since he’d been able to touch, Rimmer was probably starting to forget what it felt like.

The Psymoon where you'd first kissed felt a million years ago now. Every second since had been filled with a dull ache, a wistfulness for something you weren’t able to really appreciate at the time.

You could half remember how he tasted, that his lips were soft and that his hands had felt heavy and awkward and painfully endearing as they hung from your hips. It was wonderful, but so quick and full of fear. You’d give anything to have another go.

Slowly, carefully, so as not to overwhelm him, you slipped your hand around Rimmer’s and awkwardly fitted your fingers together, fidgeting left and right until finally, your gloved hands interlaced. 

“You should know by now, honey. I’ve got all sorts of ideas,” you said, grinning.

As if transfixed, Rimmer stared at your entwined hands. A muscle, slim and overworked, twitched in his jaw as he swallowed hard. 

What it must be like to have no senses to guide you. He couldn’t taste his favourite foods, couldn’t read his favourite books, couldn’t leave Starbug without a hollow tug in his chest.

Ever since you lost Red Dwarf, the fear of shut down had been hanging over your heads. Whenever the old ship met a new threat to its survival, you could feel cold dread seeping through your veins, long after you knew you were safe. And you couldn’t comfort each other. 

Worst of all, with everything he’d spat about his family over the years, you didn’t think Rimmer had ever known a gentle touch. And now he finally had someone who wanted to take care of him, to love him, and he couldn’t feel it.

Well, you’d never been one to back down from an argument, and arguing with the universe was about all you had, three million years from home. 

Rimmer’s fingers tightened between yours, then folded, his fingertips resting against the back of your hand. 

“Better Than Life is looking more and more appealing,” he mused.

You squeezed his hand. 

“I think you’re right.”

“Another turn up for the books. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“We should wait,” you went on, laughing softly. “Just think how good it’s going to feel when I finally get to touch you.” 

“Oh believe me, I do. Often.” Rimmer raised his eyebrows. “Several times a day.”

That made your heart trip over itself in its hurry.

It wasn’t like you to be shy around Rimmer. He was ridiculous, it was impossible to be intimidated by him or to ever feel like you didn’t have the upper hand. You could tease him all you liked, annoy him, laugh with him, but it was all a distraction from just how much you really, properly fancied the pants off him. And as embarrassing as it was, sometimes he did manage to fluster you. 

It was rare that you’d admit it, though. Somehow, Rimmer managed to maintain a massive ego despite also carrying more self-hatred than anyone you’d ever met. He was complicated, but loving him wasn’t, and neither was finding him so stupidly fit, it did seem like some kind of cosmic karma that you couldn’t shove him onto his back and ride him till the bunk’s slats snapped. 

But then something Lister had once suggested popped into your head. It had seemed stupid at the time, back when you were sure there was more chance of Kryten fancying you than Rimmer. But now…

“Well, you know,” You squeezed his hand again, finding the gloves awkward and uncomfortable, but you were grateful all the same. “We can’t touch each other but… We can touch ourselves. That could be fun.” 

Rimmer looked like he might pass out, then suddenly he was beaming like a kid at Christmas.

“You mean… You’d want to..?”

“Yes, Arnie.” You leaned closer until your nose was almost pressed against his, your lips forced to stay just millimetres from touching. “I want you.” 

You meant to say ‘to’. I want to. But ‘you’ was more accurate anyway, and it made Rimmer’s eyes slide shut with a sigh.

You watched his chest rise and fall heavily beneath his scarlet shirt, watched the fingers of his free hand tighten over the curve of his knee. 

When he finally opened his eyes again, they were clouded with a kind of frustration you’d both come to accept. This was life now. Loving but never touching.

“So,” You smiled as you tilted your head the other way, your gaze fixed on Rimmer’s mouth. “Are you going to come back to bed with me, love? Or are you going to keep playing with your aeroplane all on your own?”

Rimmer stood up so fast, you were sure he would’ve knocked the table over if he’d been able to. 

At exactly the same moment, a shrieking alarm pierced through the thick atmosphere, tearing it in two. 

Rimmer groaned.

“Smegging hell.”

The lights flickered, then died altogether with a sickening whoosh. 

You whipped around, your heart in your mouth. For a moment, you were back on the Atalanta, terrified and alone. But Rimmer’s voice sparked like a Catherine wheel in the dark. You followed the sound of your name, half blind with fear, until he’d brought you back to reality.

The lights blinked back to life, unsteady and anaemic, but enough to see by as you charged through to Starbug’s tiny cockpit, where the others were already seated.

“What’s going on?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Swirly thing alert!

Cat was at the main joystick, while Lister jabbed at the communications and navigation controls.

“Where?” he asked, frantically searching for something, anything, out there in the dark.

Cat shook his head.

“It’s not on the radar yet but I can smell it.”

Kryten took his place at the rear, overseeing the shipboard systems and long-range sensors. You stayed in the doorway, watching over Rimmer’s shoulder as his short-range sensor readers remained blank.

“Nothing here,” he reported back.

“Nothing on long-range,” Kryten agreed. “Sir, is it possible you could have made a mis-smelling?

Immediately and predictably, they fell about arguing. As Cat took umbrage at Kryten’s suggestion, Rimmer and Lister began to bicker over whether stepping up to Blue Alert was worth the effort of flicking the switch.  

Still stuck in the gangway without a seat, you clutched the doorframe, your arms out at your sides like a bird in flight, and prayed that whatever was out there would just bugger off so you could go back to seducing your boyfriend. One day of peace, was that really too much to ask for?

“Wait!” Kryten suddenly cried. “I've got something. I'm punching it up.”

Leaning over Rimmer to see his monitor better, you held your breath.

Set against the stars and the endless cold night, a bright orange streak ricocheted across the screen. If there hadn’t been so many alarms flaring, you might’ve thought it was a comet. 

“Too small for a vessel,” Lister said. “Maybe some kind of missile?”

“A missile?” You frowned. “Who would fire a missile at us? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Kryten shook his head.

“It's impossible to tell at this range. Whatever it is, they clearly have a technology way in advance of our own!”

“So do the Albanian State Washing Machine Company.”

Working as a team, Lister and Cat steered Starbug out of harm’s way. The little ship groaned as it suddenly jerked onto a different path but did as it was told.

You gripped the back of Rimmer’s chair, your gaze fixed on the monitor. 

“Arn…”

He looked up at you, his jaw set. You could see he was frightened but he forced a grim smile.

You hadn’t told the others yet. It wasn’t a concious thought, you just didn't act any differently around each other and the boys hadn’t noticed. You weren’t sure if that said more about how long you’d so obviously been infatuated with each other, or about their observational skills. 

He wanted to comfort you but there wasn’t time. You wanted to kiss Rimmer’s cheek and tell him he was doing well, but you couldn’t. Instead, you shared a thin smile and prayed this wouldn’t be it. 

“You should buckle in, darling.” He nodded back into Starbug’s hold, where there were plenty of safer places to stand. “This might get-”

As if to prove his point, the ship rolled to the left, throwing you against the doorframe. Instinctively, uselessly, Rimmer’s hand shot out to grab yours.

“It's still with us!” Lister cried. “It's some kind of heat-seeker. We can't outrun it!”

The ship rocked again, then heaved a sickly groan as it veered onto yet another course.  

Rimmer looked pale.

“What on Io was that?” 

“Some kind of suction beam. We're being dragged down!”

Chapter Text

It was night. Or at least, you thought it was. It was impossible to tell. Considering his great intellect, Legion had probably adjusted the time on his ship to match Starbug’s. 

He’d grown tired and sent you off to bed, so you all did as he said. Before you parted ways, you had caught Lister’s eye and silently tried to ask him if he had any sort of a plan. He’d never been your leader but he was often the ideas man. Lister looked clueless, probably feeling just as overwhelmed and unsure as you. 

This man, this creature, whatever he was, had been so cordial in his threats. He’d given and taken away so candidly. You were all still trying to wrap your head around the situation.

Legion knew you all by name, he fixed Lister’s infected appendix, he reached into Rimmer’s chest and… You couldn’t believe it.

It felt like you’d been pacing behind your closed door for hours now. When you finally worked up the courage to wrap your hand around the door handle, you still couldn’t bring yourself to open it

“Come on… Come on…”

You weren’t sure if you were allowed to leave. Legion hadn't said as much, but his meaning had been clear despite his soft tones and impassive mask. You weren’t getting out of here anytime soon. 

One by one, he’d shown you to your rooms. First Kryten, then Cat, Rimmer, and then you. Lister he had led around the corner, but you assumed he was as close by as the others. 

The feeling that rushed through you as you parted ways with Rimmer couldn’t be described if you had a thousand years and all the universe’s poetry at your fingertips. His gaze followed you as Legion led you away, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from him. A silent agreement seemed to pass between you: a promise, a time and a place. 

Everything had changed in an instant. 

Already bewildered and struck dumb with fear, you stopped breathing altogether when Legion reached into Rimmer’s chest and plucked his lightbee out of the air.

He flickered and faded as his projection failed.

“Stop!” Feeling sick, you staggered forward and tried to grab Rimmer’s lightbee back. “Don’t hurt him, please. Just- Please give him back.”

But Legion had raised a calming hand to you. 

“Do not worry.”

The idea was laughable but you did as you were told.

Legion turned the lightbee over in his hand, inspecting the little machine closely. Then to your horror, he opened the casing and began to pull out its wiring  

Tears stinging your eyes, you would’ve launched yourself at Legion if Lister hadn’t held you back. 

“You stupid bastard, I’ll- Stop, you’re hurting him!”

“Lefty…”

Lister squeezed your arms, trying to be reassuring, but he was watching Legion too, his eyes wide and fearful.

Legion roughly tugged out more wires, dropping them to the floor as if they were nothing. Then he replaced them with a thimble-sized unit that rattled inside the hollow casing.

Legion threw the lightbee back towards where Rimmer had been standing, then with a flash of light, he shimmered into life again.

Rimmer looked shocked but seemed unharmed.

As he caught his breath, Legion explained the gift he’d given him, given you. 

All through dinner, you watched each other, hardly daring to believe what had happened. Despite everything, you hadn’t touched once, not when Legion explained that he’d upgraded Rimmer’s technology, not when you were sat opposite each other at dinner, your knees close under the table, not even when you said goodnight. 

Slowly, steadily, you drew in a long breath through your nose, filling your lungs until you felt your racing heart begin to settle. 

Six years. Six long years. And he was just down the hall.

Worries and doubts shook off their wings, preparing to take flight, but never managed to get off the ground. It was too late, you were too in love. And he was just down the hall.

“Fuck.” You laughed, shaking your head in amazement. “He’s just down the hall.”

Still reeling, still unsure that this wasn’t all just some elaborate dream, you wrenched open the door before you could change your mind. 

You found the right room and knocked quickly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You were so full of adrenaline, it was starting to leave a coppery taste under your tongue. 

Movement behind the door made you falter. You realised you had no idea what you were going to say. Your heart had jumped right up into your throat; you weren’t even sure you could talk. 

The door opened.

Rimmer stared at you, and you stared right back. 

“Hi, I-”

You didn’t make it through another syllable. 

Rimmer grabbed your hand, pulling you into the room and slamming the door shut behind you in one smooth movement. The next thing you knew, Rimmer had pressed you up against it, crowding your body with his.

“Hi,” he said, and then he was kissing you.

You didn’t have time to think, but maybe that was for the best. You could barely remember your own name anyway. All you knew was that Rimmer’s body felt warm and firm against yours, and that he was the clumsiest, daftest kisser you’d ever known, and you were so happy, you could’ve cried.

You kissed him, hard and desperate, your heart rising up and up and up when Rimmer groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding round to press against the small of your back, pulling you as close as possible. 

You couldn’t believe this was real, that he was real. You couldn’t believe you finally, finally, got to touch him and feel him and smell him and taste him after all this time, after years of waiting.

Rimmer kissed you like a man starved, and in a way, he was. Three million years without any senses at all, you thought it might drive him mad to finally be able to feel and taste again, and it seemed you were right.

Your hands found their way into his lovely curly hair and he made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a whine. It was the most wonderful sound you’d ever heard, and when you pulled, hard, Rimmer let out a moan that reverberated right through you.

“So soft,” you murmured against his lips, twisting his hair around your fingers. “Didn’t think it would be this soft.”

“You feel…” He shook his head. “You feel incredible, I- I can’t believe…”

You felt Rimmer smiling against your mouth as he kissed you again, the most wonderful feeling you’d ever known.

You couldn’t compute what it felt like, to finally be able to touch him, to finally know how he felt under your fingertips. It had been maddening, all those years separated by an invisible barrier, and now you were so desperate to feel him, every bit of him, you didn’t even know where to start.

Rimmer seemed to have some ideas, though. His big hands slipped round your waist, his fingertips pressing into you hips as he gave you an experimental squeeze, and then he pushed back, pinning you against the door.

Your mouth fell open with a soft gasp, and he took the opportunity to run his tongue over yours. It was clumsy, just like the rest of Rimmer’s kisses. You wondered briefly if this was the first time he’d ever attempted kissing someone with tongue, but you didn’t care, it was so him. 

Slipping your hands up to cradle his jaw, you pulled away ever-so-slightly, letting Rimmer catch his breath for a second. 

You didn’t know anything about the technology Legion had passed onto him. You didn’t know if this was temporary, if it would still work if you managed to leave Legion’s ship. You didn’t know if the now archaic computers aboard Starbug and Red Dwarf would be able to keep up with the new data pouring into their systems.

And so Rimmer kissed you like his life depended on it. He touched you like he’d never get the chance again, like he was half afraid you might abruptly come to your senses and realise you didn’t want him after all, or he’d wake up alone in his quarters on Starbug. 

Well, you couldn’t have that. 

“I’m yours,” you whispered, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

As you watched his hazel eyes slide shut, you felt the reins fall into your hands. 

Grinning excitedly, you took him by the shoulders and span him around, so now Rimmer’s back was against the door.

You kissed him hungrily, your hands back to that nice spot either side of his face, his body pressed so tight against yours, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 

Now that you were setting the pace, you pressed your tongue against his, trying again, showing him how to do it, and heard Rimmer let out a moan you didn’t think he was capable of. 

Mouth still moving against yours, he murmured your name, a question, making sure that this was what you wanted, and you answered him with a groan, hands clutching at his waist, keeping him against you.

Then Rimmer tugged at the bottom of your shirt, trying to shimmy it up your body. It surprised you, and he must have sensed your hesitation because he broke away.

“Sorry,” Rimmer shook his head, his lips pink and kiss-bruised. “Sorry, love, I should’ve-”

“Arnie?”

“Yes?”

“Get on the bed.”

“Okay.”

With a grin, you pulled him around so now his back was to the bed. You pushed Rimmer down onto the mattress, flashing him a bright smile as you straddled his hips.

You groaned with relief into each other’s mouths as you sank down in his lap, starved of each other even after a few moments apart.

“Can I..?” Intrigued, you tugged at the front of his new, bright blue jacket. “Can I take this off? How does it work?”

“Erm…”

Looking equally puzzled, Rimmer popped a few of the buttons and found they gave way.

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth with excitement, you helped him the rest of the way until Rimmer had to sit up to shrug the jacket off his broad shoulders. Almost as soon as it slid off the ends of his arms, it shimmered away to nothing.

“I think I can…” Rimmer shook his head. “I can control it. Who cares just- Please don’t stop kissing me.”

Oh, you’d never been so happy to oblige.

Together, you shifted so that Rimmer’s back was resting against the headboard, and you could stay comfortably in his lap. You barely parted the whole time, just so desperate to feel each other while you had the chance, before the clock struck midnight and the spell was broken. 

Beneath his sapphire blue jacket was your favourite part of his stupid uniform, the soft short-sleeved shirt that always looked so ridiculously good on him, and the braces, a gift just for you.

You slipped your fingers round them and tugged Rimmer closer as you rolled your hips against his, swallowing his desperate moan with a kiss.

You couldn’t seem to get close enough, it was never, ever enough.

“Can I?” 

You tugged at his braces again, and Rimmer nodded so quickly, you almost clunked heads.

“Darling, you can do whatever you want to me.”

Laughing softly, you kissed him quick, then started to pull them down over his shoulders.

“Is that so?”

Your fingers tangled in the hem of his shirt and yanked it up, over his pale stomach and beyond, until Rimmer had to raise his arms so you could pull it over his head.

“I might hold you to that, Arn.”

“Please.”

Immediately, you pressed your palms to his chest, your heart beating hard and fast enough for the both of you.

His lovely body had been on your mind ever since the psi-moon. You didn’t think it should be possible for someone as dorky and ridiculous as Rimmer to look so stupidly gorgeous, but here he was.

Running your fingers along the planes of his collarbones, then over his broad shoulders and round again, you smiled to yourself, enjoying the way he looked up at you in awe, his big hazel eyes shining in the low light.

You dragged your hands down over his strong chest before finally meeting his gaze again.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said softly. “Did you know that?”

You could feel Rimmer frowning as you went to kiss him again but you ignored him. You didn’t feel like arguing. There weren’t enough words to reassure him that you thought he was the most handsome man you’d ever met, but you could show him. 

Distracted by his mouth, you didn’t notice Rimmer had tugged your shirt up until it got caught under your arms. Beaming at each other, you tossed your hands above your head and let Rimmer drag it the rest of the way. 

Almost immediately, he began to press needy, desperate kisses across your chest, his hands shaking at your hips.

You slipped your fingers into his hair again, grazing your nails against his scalp as Rimmer’s mouth sank lower and lower, while his hands trailed up your back.

Somehow, he managed to get your bra unhooked on the first go.

“Wow.” You laughed softly as you shrugged it off your shoulders. “Didn’t realise you knew how to d-”

You were cut off by your own moan. As soon as you’d thrown your bra onto the floor, Rimmer’s lips found your neck again, then trailed down to your chest, leaving behind a series of deep purple marks you both knew would get noticed immediately. You didn’t mind, everyone already knew you were his.

The thought was pushed from your head as Rimmer’s mouth grew closer to where you wanted him. He groaned, low and rumbling, as he pressed his face between your breasts.

Biting down hard on your lip, you tried to press your thighs together to ease the growing ache between them, but it was impossible still sitting in Rimmer’s lap.

“This is a dream…” he murmured, turning his face and pressing a soft kiss to your sternum. “I’m going to wake up soon and this will all be…”

You smiled fondly. Even now, even when he had you in his lap, his hands tight on your hips, his mouth wherever he wanted it, Rimmer couldn’t believe something good could happen to him.

“Arn?”

Rimmer tilted his head back to look up at you, and you couldn’t resist pressing a kiss underneath his jaw.

“I’m here.”

You kissed his cheek softly. 

“I’m yours.” 

The tip of his nose.

“But just in case this is a dream,” You smiled. “I think we should make the most of it. Don’t you?”

You shivered despite the heat between you as he let his slow, almost longing gaze slip over you. Then Rimmer smiled.

“I do.”

You exhaled softly, curling your fingers into his hair, about to reply, when Rimmer’s hands tightened on your hips.

He pulled you closer, muttering something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch, and then all coherent thoughts left your head as Rimmer’s tongue flicked over your nipple, flattened, before sucking it into his mouth.

“O-Ohhh, fuck…”

You let your head fall back, your spine arching into his touch as Rimmer grazed his teeth over you, then his tongue again, round and round, his soft moans making your hips rock.

You tried to grind down on him but it wasn’t enough. You let out an embarrassingly needy sound and saw Rimmer’s eyebrows jump in surprise.

He let his hands smooth down your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, then slipped them over your arse, squeezing you between his long fingers and helping you rock against him.

It lit a fire in you, and suddenly you couldn’t think why on Callisto you were letting him take the lead.

With your hand beneath his chin, you pulled Rimmer’s head up and slammed your lips against his,  all tenderness forgotten for the moment as your tongue slipped past his lips, kissing him so deeply, he saw stars. 

You felt Rimmer moan against your mouth, deep and low and awed. His ungainly hands flapped at your waist before finding a home again, tugging your hips forward until you were grinding against him through his stupid velvet trousers that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. 

You couldn’t contain your soft sound of approval as you wriggled your hips, trying to find the right angle to finally get some friction.

Rimmer pulled back to look at you, his eyes wide, and you thought he must’ve been able to feel your warmth even though all the clothes that still separated you. 

For a moment, you let yourself wonder if this was the first time he’d ever been with someone who actually really liked him, and if any of this was new to him. You wondered if anyone had ever kissed him like they adored him, whispered to him that he was perfect, shown him with their body that he was doing well, wanted him so badly, they couldn’t express it with words. 

You kissed his cheek, then his neck, the scar on his jaw, murmuring that you loved him against his skin, and Rimmer shook his head, eyes closing for a moment, as if in disbelief. 

“You’re beautiful…” he murmured.

Rimmer kissed you, again and again and again, his hips jumping under yours when you rocked in just the right way.

“Arn…” you moaned, your grip tightening on his broad shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He kept saying it, whispering the words against your skin as he unzipped the front of your trousers and tried to wriggle them down. 

Smiling at his eagerness, you pulled his belt from his hips, perhaps a little more roughly than necessary. Rimmer didn’t seem to mind. In fact he looked up at you like you were heaven-sent.

You took advantage of the newly exposed skin, sucking a mark just below his jaw, his whines making you roll your hips against his again, harder now.

“You sound so good, Arnie,” you groaned, right by his ear, and he clutched at your hips so tight, you knew you were going to have a bruise. 

He was stronger in his hard light form. Practically indestructible, Kryten had said. The thought made the pulsing between your legs even worse. Then you frowned.

“Wait, can I..?”

You wrapped your fingers around his chin and tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck to you. There wasn’t a mark on him.

“Oh, you’re kidding.” You laughed softly. “You’re so tough now I can’t even give you a love bite?”

“I guess I’ll have to give them for the both of us.”

“I guess so.” 

You lifted off of him, making you both groan, missing the contact already.

Both your hands scrambled at the waistband of his trousers, then yours, then his stupid boxers. You almost whined at the sight of them straining against the obscene outline of his hard cock. Your mouth was practically watering as you helped him ease them down his toned thighs.

Rimmer hissed slightly at the pressure it put on him. His gasp of relief as he was finally freed made your stomach flip.

“Such a good boy,” you whispered and pressed a soft kiss just below his ear. 

Rimmer was panting now, the muscles in his jaw flexing and his face flushed as he looked up at you intently.

You smiled down at him before your lips found his again, kissing sloppily and messily, teeth clashing, all tongues and desperate moans and pawing hands.

His inexperience was a perfect match for your lack of practice; it was nice to figure things out together. 

“Hang on, love,” you murmured, laughing softly when he grabbed at your hips, trying to keep you close. “Let’s change things round a bit.”

You settled onto your back, pulling Rimmer on top of you. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you reached between you and slipped your hand around him.

Immediately, Rimmer folded in the middle, like an old garden chair. He pressed his face into your neck, moaning noisily enough to make you blush. 

“Always knew you’d be loud,” you grinned against his skin, begrudgingly kissing the spot where you’d hoped you’d left a dark bruise. “Everyone will hear us if you keep that up.”

“Then stop- Ohhn…”

Rimmer bucked his hips into your hand, so sore and aching that the slightest touch was enough to get him close.

“If you don’t want me to make any bloody noise, you’re going the wrong way about it.” 

“Just hurry up, Arn. Please, God, m’so wet.”

Cheeks burning, you met his gaze to find Rimmer looking at you, stupefied. It had been a long time since you’d said anything like that to someone, and by the looks of things, Rimmer had never heard anything like it.

One thing you’d always liked about him, when push came to shove, Rimmer always did as he was told. 

“Can I..? Can I just, er- Ah!” Rimmer grinned as you lifted your hips for him, allowing him to slide your underwear down over your thighs. “Thank you, darling.”

“You’re welcome, dear.”

Rimmer paused, taking a moment to enjoy how soaked your underwear was, all because of him, before he threw them onto the floor with the rest of your clothes. 

What little confidence he had seemed to fly right out of the window then. You could see uncertainty flash across his face, his eyebrows pulled together as his mind reeled. 

You slipped your fingers over the backs of his hands, planted at either side of your shoulders, then grazed your fingers up his strong arms, up and up and up until you could slip them over his shoulders.

You pulled him closer, guiding him into the right position with a gentle smile.

“You ready, hot stuff?” you asked, hoping to bring back his lovely smile. 

It did the trick. Rimmer’s grin could’ve put the sun to shame as he slipped his big hand under your thigh and carefully held it against his hip.

You could feel him shaking as he lined himself up. He kept exhaling softly, like he still couldn't believe that this was real, that you weren’t just a wonderful daydream anymore.

Slipping your hands into his hair, you pulled him down to kiss you, hoping to distract him, but you had to break away when Rimmer finally eased into you.

You moaned into each other’s mouths, your nose crammed against his jaw as you finally felt him fill you up.

It had been so long for both of you. You’d been waiting, even though you didn’t know what for. Now you knew, you both did, you’d been waiting for each other.

You swore under your breath at the delicious stretch, your fingernails almost cutting into Rimmer’s shoulders.

The hand not supporting his weight clung to your thigh, keeping your hips at a good angle, clutching you tightly. Rimmer groaned as he sank lower. You felt unreal; he could barely think straight.

He huffed, gasping for breath as you rolled your hips, taking him even deeper, and now you were so close, Rimmer could feel your heart hammering in your chest. He’d never felt so alive. 

“Is this okay?” he gasped out, his face all screwed up with concentration. “Does it feel alright? Are you okay?”

“I’m great, Arn. You’re perfect.” You laughed softly and pulled him down for another sweet kiss. “But if you don’t fuck me soon, I am going to go mental.”

“Aye aye, Lieutenant.”

Rimmer’s eyes shone. Then he was kissing you again, slow and delicate, searching and sweet.

The change of pace made your head spin. It was clear he’d learnt a lot already. You could feel him smiling against your mouth and realised you were smiling too.

Soon you grew impatient and purposefully clenched around him.

Rimmer swore, his lips still moving against yours, moaning ‘Io, sweetheart’ right into your mouth.

You laughed softly, so unspeakably happy that for a moment, you forgot you weren’t the only two people on the ship, in the whole universe.

With the puzzled look of someone desperately trying to remember everything they’d studied just before an exam, Rimmer glanced up at you then kissed your cheek, probably for his own sake. Then he slowly pulled out, only to thrust deeply back into you, making your breath hitch.

You gasped into each other’s mouth, his nose brushing against yours, lips just catching as the two of you moved together.

“That’s it, that’s it, love.” You tugged at his hair, whispering feverishly by his ear, hoping some encouragement might wipe the focused expression off his face. “Feels so good, Arn, fuck- Oh…”

He hit a sweet spot inside you, making your back arch, pressing your chest against his.

You wrapped your fingers around his jaw and devoured his mouth as he picked up speed, moaning so loud you were absolutely sure they’d be able to hear you down the hall now, but you couldn’t care less.

Rimmer gave you that look again, like he was completely shocked beyond all reasonable thought, and you couldn’t help cursing every single person who had ever written him off or bullied him or made him feel any less than he was, but you couldn’t help thanking them too, because it had led Rimmer to you, and you wanted to make him feel like this for the rest of your life.

His movements grew sloppy and desperate and sweet and so, so hot as you felt yourself already tripping towards the edge. A lot of lonely nights and longing looks meant it wouldn’t take long at all, not for either of you.

“Rimmer, m’so close, m’so close-” you breathed out, and felt him nod, his nose bumping against yours.

The pressure was building and building, so you held his face in your hands, kissing him so hard it made him whimper against your mouth.

You felt beads of sweat run down your thigh as he lifted your leg against his waist and held you there, his body starting to tremble.

Then suddenly, he shook his head. 

“I can’t-”

You lifted your head, trying to meet his gaze, but Rimmer faltered and lowered his forehead to your chest. 

“What’s wrong? Is it too much?”

“I- In a way.”

You blinked, confused, then realisation settled over you with a surge of happiness. 

“Oh, Arn.” You laughed softly and ran your fingers through his hair. “C’mon, love. Don’t hold out on me. If you need to, you should.”

Rimmer groaned, though it was entirely without pleasure.

You knew he was close, you could practically feel it pulsing through him, but again, even in the most euphoric moment of his life thus far, he’d found a reason to be angry with himself. 

“Want to make you feel good.”

His face was still pressed into your chest so his voice came out all muffled. It made you laugh again as you kissed the top of his head. 

“You will. You are. Hey, look at me.” 

You gently tucked your fingers under his chin and lifted his head until Rimmer’s gaze met yours. Clouded and soft, his half-lidded eyes were so dark, it took your breath away. 

“This is not going to be the only time we do this, Arn,” you said, quiet but firm so that he’d get the message. “Alright? I want you forever.”

Slowly, he started to nod, even though it looked like every fibre of his being was screaming at him to argue and doubt and depreciate.

“Alright,” Rimmer said, then again, almost to himself, “Alright.”

You kissed him, soft and slow, hoping he’d be able to feel just how much you adored him in every touch of your lips against his.

You could feel him gradually starting to relax again, his body sinking into yours, his soft little moans and whimpers getting louder and gruffer as he began to pick up the pace again.

“Just let go,” you whispered by his ear, then let your head fall back against the pillow. “Feel.”

Rimmer leaned into you, and over his shoulder, you watched the planes and muscles in his back contracting and working and shifting under his skin. Mesmerised, you just held tight, watching the light pool on the thin sheen of sweat that lay across Rimmer’s shoulder blades. 

“Io, I can’t even think anymore, you’re so-”

You let out a surprised groan when he hitched your thigh further up his side, tilting your hips upwards, the new angle made you see galaxies behind your closed eyes. 

“So long as you don’t say ‘Geronimo’, anything’s fine by me,” you managed to get out, his sharp, erratic thrusts stealing your breath away. 

Rimmer paused again, his brow furrowed.

You could’ve hit him, you really could. 

“How did you-”

“They told me.”

“Oh, for-”

“Arnie,” you laughed. “Concentrate. It doesn’t matter what you say.”

He scoffed like he didn’t believe you but it didn’t matter anyway, it was too late.

With his face buried in your neck, Rimmer picked up the pace again, his free hand finding yours and interlocking your fingers.  

“I’m-” His eyes squeezed shut, his mouth falling open. “Io, I’m going to- Oh, God, darling- You’re-” 

You kissed him, swallowing his keening moan, but he made sure to pull away just as he slammed his hips into yours a final time.

“I love you,” Rimmer groaned, his head falling to rest against your chest as his heaved, his hips stuttering and his moans vibrating over your heart. 

He all but collapsed on top of you, only the hand by your head kept him from squashing you.

You groaned softly as he settled deeper into you, your bodies connected in a way you never would have thought possible. 

He said those words again, I love you, but this time it was moaned into your mouth, and you could’ve cried as you whispered it back.

After a moment, he slowly pulled out, his sweaty, sticky skin rubbing against yours as he moved away, but only to sit up, looking down at you with open, honest, aching adoration.

You moaned his name, waving at him to come back to you, but Rimmer just smiled, tired but so, so stupidly happy.

Then he began to mouth wet, open-mouthed kisses down your body, over your stomach, round your hips, and down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, leaving behind a trail of marks you couldn’t wait to admire in the mirror later.

“Where are you off to?” you called softly, your heart beginning to skip as he settled between your thighs.

“Your turn.”

His words thrummed through you, the tension in your abdomen like a rubber band, about to snap. Your skin felt hot but you couldn’t stop shivering, kept on the brink of anticipation by his needful, desperate kisses. 

You were disappointed when Rimmer moved past where you wanted him most. His teeth grazed the insides of your thighs, then he kissed the spot as if to apologise. He pressed another kiss to your calf, running his hand up the bare skin of your other leg.

He was taking his time. After all these years, he was desperate to feel you, to make a note of every tangible moment, to taste you and burn the memory of you squeezing around him onto his memory forever. 

He kissed his way back up your other leg, then you whined as he gently sank his teeth into your thigh.

“Arnold…” you warned, but he got the message pretty quickly. 

“Just exploring, darling. You know, I’ve never done this before.”

“I’m shocked.”

Rimmer shot you a weary look. It looked so ridiculous paired with his messy hair and glistening skin, his bare chest and his pink lips, his big hands wrapped around your thighs and his mouth so close to where you needed him most, you couldn’t hold back a grin if you tried. 

“I’ve read a lot of magazines. Hopefully, I’ll remember some of it.”

“Arnie, if I could make one suggestion? Go with your gut.”

He looked up at you, a crooked, dorky sort of smile offsetting the heated look in his eyes.

He really did love it when you called him that. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to go all these years without it.  

“My gut is telling me to yell in panic.”

“Okay, well, maybe not that then.”

Rimmer laughed softly as he settled deeper into the crux of your thighs.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t have time to respond. The cold air against you was replaced by his warm, wet tongue, drawing a path up your core in a bold and breath-stealing move.

You bit your lip, your hands immediately falling to grab his shoulder and curl your fingers back into his hair, pulling gently, spurring him on. 

Rimmer didn’t need anymore encouragement. He dragged his tongue against you, lapping up the mess he’d caused with a soft groan.

His eyes rolled back as he pressed deeper, his hands pushing against the insides of your thighs to spread you open further. 

You let your head fall back against the pillow, trying to keep your legs apart but it was almost too much to bear.

He was moaning against you, whining and whimpering your name as he dipped his tongue inside you, then his long index and middle fingers. 

“Oh, God, Arn…”

At the sound of his name, Rimmer groaned again, his voice reverberating through you as you began to rock your hips against his mouth. 

God, the sound of him tasting you, it was obscene. You were sure you’d never been so stupidly turned on in all your life, and when you realised he was grinding his hips against the mattress, you honestly could have cried.

It reminded you of a dream you’d once had, a wonderful, mad dream, that led you to right here, right now, with Rimmer’s fingers crooked inside you and his teeth sinking into your inner thigh.

“Now, is this…” His eyebrows shot up. “Ah, yes!”

Rimmer wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently, his eyes on your face to gauge your reaction.

You gasped, your fist tightening in his hair, pushing his face deeper into you, and the groan you got in response was so low and virile, it made your hips jump.

You didn’t have a chance to warn him, the band across your lower belly suddenly snapped, and you came with a ragged moan, your back arching off the bed, his name and only his on your lips.

But he didn’t stop, Rimmer kept sucking at your aching clit, his fingers pumping into you, his wrist coated with your wetness. He didn’t ease off until you came again, breathless, shaking, your whole body trembling under his. 

When you finally came up for air, you weakly waved him closer, and with a tired smile, Rimmer clambered back to lay beside you.

Immediately, you fell into his arms, clutching at his toned back like a lifeboat in a storm.

Tears began to well so you quickly closed your eyes, feeling stupid but just so happy. 

“Was that..?” Rimmer panted, his chin glistening in the low light. “Did I do alr-”

“Oh, shut up.” You kissed him, deep and slow. “You were amazing.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

You choked on the word, wanting to say more but you were too emotional to get any further.

Rimmer kissed your temple, then the tip of your nose, gathering you up in his arms as best he could.

“Worth the wait?” he asked quietly. 

You opened your eyes and found him watching you intently, worry and joy and hope alighting across his lovely face.

You smiled, slipping your hand around his jaw.

“Worth the wait,” you said, and felt your heart burst when Rimmer grinned.

You drifted off to sleep together, tangled and sweaty and exhausted, your hands between you on the bed. Your fingers were interlocked, never to be parted again. 

Chapter Text

“You’re sure this is right?”

“Lefty, which one of us is holding the manual, and which one of us took four goes to get her driving licence?”

Flinging out your hand, you leaned over in your seat and attempted to smack his knee, but Rimmer was in soft light mode and you ended up hitting the arm of his chair instead. 

“Oh, very mature.”

“It was only three goes,” you muttered, shaking out your smarting fingers. “And it would’ve been two but my instructor was a sexist arsehole. I just- See! There it goes again! I don’t like the sound the engine is making.”

“You just need to go up a gear.”

“Now you’re making things up.”

Rimmer laughed.

“You’re right, I am. You’re doing absolutely marvellous, darling. Don’t worry. This ship is just old and set in its ways.”

It was the first time you’d been alone together in weeks, perhaps even months. Still cooped up inside Starbug, it wasn’t often you had any time for yourselves. Even Starbug’s surprisingly roomy interior wasn’t enough to get away from Kryten’s fussing, Cat’s ribbing, and Lister’s god awful guitar. 

At the first mention of a lads holiday on a tropical moon, you leapt at the idea. The boys would spend all the time they liked sunning, swimming, snoring, whatever, it didn’t matter, and you and Rimmer could take Starbug for a spin around the solar system. How this had turned into Rimmer walking you through the Starbug driving course, you had no idea, but it was just nice to spend time together. 

“Are your hands at ten and two?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm, that looks more like eight and three to me.”

“My hands are fine, Arn.”

“I’ll have to deduct a point.” 

Turning your head, you shot him a weary look as he scribbled down a note in his pad. 

“Are you really-”

“Well, I can’t give you a pass if you haven’t earned it, Lefty.”

“Then what’s the point of sleeping with my instructor?”

At that, Rimmer’s pen slipped off the side of the page. His cheeks went a funny colour, and there, just at the corner of his mouth, you could see you’d made him smile. Rimmer had always been too soft on you, you should’ve realised sooner he was just as much a goner as you were.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” he said, shooting you a rare earnest smile, just to make sure you knew he was only teasing you. “You’re already far better than Lister.”

“Well, that’s not exactly saying much, but I’ll take it.”

You let him walk you through a few manoeuvres, skirting round moons and parking between asteroids, until finally, you’d had enough. When you asked Rimmer to finally teach you how to drive the little ship, you didn’t think he’d take it quite so seriously, and if you didn’t have much time together, you wanted to make the most of it.

“Now, that’s definitely not in the manual…” Rimmer began as you got out of the seat usually occupied by Cat and stood beside him. 

“Well,” You placed a hand on the back of his chair and pushed until there was enough room for you to scoot between him and the steering console. “I can see better from here. Hard light, please.”

You never had to ask more than once, Rimmer was only too happy to feel you. 

You blinked, and his red jacket shimmered away, only to be replaced by the sapphire blue you’d come to love.

Rimmer’s eyes never left your face as you settled down in his lap, your hands at ten and two on the controls, just as he’d asked.

“Mm, yes,” You shot a grin over your shoulder. “This is much better.”

Rimmer didn’t respond, his mind was elsewhere. He let out a long slow breath as his hands slipped round your thighs, his chest against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“Is this okay?” you asked softly.

It was fun to play around, but if it was too much, you would move away without a second’s hesitation. But Rimmer just nodded his head slightly, then pressed his face into your shoulder with a soft groan. 

You’d asked him a thousand times to describe how it felt, the difference between soft and hard light. Rimmer had patiently tried to explain but there didn’t seem enough words. 

Sometimes, he said, he’d gotten so used to the numbness of soft light that to suddenly be completely and totally aware of everything was overwhelming, and to be touched was often jarring after so long without it. But then there were times when the warmth of another person, the touch of your hands, even just being able to feel your voice against his skin as you murmured sweet nothings to him, it was like waking from a long sleep, like walking through the first patch of warm sunlight after a harsh winter. 

You felt him exhale, still a novel sensation, but magical. Warmth spread across your skin through your clothes, then you felt him press his lips against your right shoulder blade. 

Rimmer’s hands slipped from their place on your thighs, one coming up to flatten against your stomach, the other falling, following the curve of your thigh until his long fingers had parted your legs and pressed into the soft flesh there. 

“You’re distracting me…”

Any attempt at sounding authoritative or stern, even as a joke, was lost as soon as Rimmer kissed his way, open-mouthed and needy, from your shoulder, up to your neck. 

“Oh, am I?” 

His voice was rich and sonorous against your skin, then the hand on your thigh tightened.

With a soft sigh, you let yourself lean into him as Rimmer mouthed at your neck. Your grip on the steering console slipped as your eyes began to close, and suddenly, you couldn’t remember for the life of you what you’d been doing before he started touching you. 

You half turned in your seat, one hand leaving the console to rest on his broad shoulder. 

“Eyes on the road,” Rimmer said weakly.

You hummed, pretending to consider it.

“I’d rather look at you.”

Rimmer’s eyes were dark as you turned around in his lap. Readjusting your position was difficult with so little room to manoeuvre, and every “accidental” rock of your hips against his made Rimmer’s jaw go slack. 

“I’ll have to fail you for this, you know,” he said, but even as the words left his mouth, his hands found your hips, pulling you into him.

“Oh no,” You pouted. “Guess I’ll have to take the test again…”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his neck, right over where his pulse should’ve been. 

“And again…”

You kissed the scar on his jaw, flicking your tongue across it. It made Rimmer fidget beneath you, his fingers tightening on your hips. 

“And again…”

Holding his jaw between your fingers, you tilted his chin up and kissed him deeply until you felt Rimmer melt beneath you. He groaned softly as your lips moved with painstaking slowness against his, taking your time, making sure he felt every ounce of your love. 

Distracted, he didn’t notice your other hand move down his chest until you’d undone his jacket and slipped your hand inside his shirt, dragging your fingertips across his belly. 

Rimmer’s breath caught, his eyes bright. 

“Maybe I can make an exception,” he murmured, arching his back up to kiss you again. 

You let him, smiling when you felt his hands part ways again, one slipping up your back, the other curving round to squeeze your arse.

He was still getting used to being touched, but he didn’t seem to have a problem when it came to returning the favour. With a methodical approach that warmed your chest, Rimmer had taken painstaking measures to learn every inch of you, until there wasn’t a part of you he hadn’t felt, kissed, or seen. You had a feeling he’d been making notes in his stupid pad, little paragraphs on what you liked, what made you moan softly into his mouth, what made your body react to his. 

“Perhaps…”

“Mm?”

You quirked an eyebrow as you found your way back to his neck, finding that spot he seemed to love so much. 

Rimmer tilted his chin back, his eyes sliding closed, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling as you turned his chin away, giving yourself more room. 

You loved when he was like this, completely malleable in your hands, happy to let you shape him in any way you liked. You thought it might take a while for Rimmer to relax in that way, to trust you and let you have control, but he was all too happy to let you have your way with him. 

“If you can show me where the autopilot is,” Rimmer managed to get out, his voice hoarse and low. “I’ll see to it that you pass with flying colours.”

You smiled against his neck. Straightening up, you let go of his jaw and reached back, hitting the right button without even having to look away. 

“Autopilot engaged.”

Rimmer laughed, excited and oddly proud.

“Congratulat-”

You cut him off with a hard kiss, tired of talking. Time was all you had aboard Starbug, but very little of it was private. You had to make the most of it when the moment fell into your lap. 

Patting along the side of the chair, your hand fell upon the lever that adjusted the seat. You yanked it towards you. Rimmer yelped as he fell back but you quickly kissed him again, reassuring him in no uncertain terms that things would be much more exciting with him horizontal. 

“Arms up.”

“W-What?”

“Hands up by your head, Arn.”

When he still didn’t move, you wrapped your hands around his wrists, then lifted them to rest above his head. 

“D’you think you can be good and keep them there for me?”

As expected, Rimmer frowned and immediately tried to wrap his hands back around your waist. 

“Now, I don’t think-”

You sighed.

Rimmer’s eyes flew wide as you pinned his wrists above his head again, your fingernails digging into his skin.

“I don’t care what you think, Arn. Be a good boy for me and keep your hands up.”

His mouth hanging open, Rimmer looked a picture, but surprisingly, he did as he was told. 

Your hand slipped back inside his shirt, smoothing up his stomach until you reached his chest. You thumbed at his nipple, and grinned against his mouth when you felt Rimmer’s jaw clench.

“Oh, you love that, don’t you.”

Pink-cheeked, Rimmer looked like he wanted to argue, so you did it again, rolling his nipple between your fingers until he couldn’t help the soft little gasps that fell from his lips. His hips twitched beneath yours, circling and rocking, his tiny, meek ‘ah ah ah’s making your head spin. 

“Oh, dear…” You stopped, looking down at him with feigned disapproval. “Did I say you could move?”

Rimmer, so flustered he looked like he might fall right out of his chair, scoffed and spluttered until he was red in the face.

“You started this and now you’re telling me-”

He broke off with a frustrated groan. Your weight in his lap was all he could think about, his body ached to move against yours. Above his head, Rimmer’s long fingers balled into fists, twisting and shaking, as if it took all his strength to keep them there. 

Humming to yourself, you dragged your fingers down his chest to the buckle of his belt. You toyed with it, tugging and pulling but never moving to undo it, and all the while, Rimmer watched you with dark eyes. 

“If you move again, I’ll stop. Alright, Arn? Do you understand?”

“But I-”

You let go of his belt. Now the only contact between you was incidental. 

“Do you understand, Arnold?”

Begrudgingly, Rimmer nodded.

“Oh, c’mon now, dear,” you leaned over him, speaking so close to his mouth that your lips were a breath from grazing his. “Use your words, I know you can.”

Slowly, Rimmer forced his shoulders to relax. Above his head, his fingers arched and stretched, before curling back into fists.

“I understand,” he said softly, then, hoping to protest how long you were taking without making you stop again, “Just please… Please do something.”

You should’ve told him off for being mouthy, but you had to agree, this was taking far too long. Almost without meaning to, you’d started to roll your hips into his, grinding down against the hard outline of him through his trousers. 

“C’mon then, you,” you laughed, unable to help yourself. “Let’s get this off you.”

You tugged at his shirt, practically dragging it over his head. You giggled together when his arms got all stuck and tangled. Not wanting to waste a second, you bent your head and kissed down his chest, dragging your tongue across his stomach with a low moan.

“Bloody h…” Rimmer threw his shirt off frantically, his face flushed, his mouth hanging open. “You want to do this here?”

“Problem? I thought you’d quite like fucking me in Lister’s chair.”

“Well, I would’ve disinfected it first if I’d known.”

“Do you want to…”

“Io, no. Just- I can’t think when you’re…”

You hummed against his chest, your hands kneading his waist, your thighs tense on either side of his. 

“Don’t think.” You rolled your hips again, slowly, watching with delight as his eyes rolled back into his head. “Just let me make you feel good, Arn.”

Half delirious, Rimmer nodded and raised his chin, begging for a kiss. You happily obliged.

You’d just gotten your hand down between your bodies, fumbling awkwardly for his zip, when the intercom buzzed. 

You sat up, accidentally knocking the seat mechanism with your knee.

Rimmer yelped again as the chair shot back into its default position, forcing him to collide with you.

Winded, you almost fell to the floor. Thankfully, you just about managed to cling onto him, and all the while, the intercom demanded attention. 

Muttering and fussing, Rimmer reached over you and jabbed his index finger against the receiver. 

“What do you want?”  

“Mr. Rimmer?”

“Yes, you- What do you want, Kryten?”

“We’ve finished exploring, sir. Mr. Lister and Mr. Cat are ready to go home. You can come pick us up now.”

Rimmer’s teeth were gritted so firmly, it was a wonder he managed to get the words out. 

“I’ll decide when we come pick you up, you cretinous-”

“We’ll be there soon, Krytes,” you gently interrupted, placing your hand over Rimmer’s on the intercom.  

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Either the boys had filled Kryten in on why you and Rimmer might have been so eager to have the ship to yourselves, or Lister had been standing by when he called up Starbug, because Kryten disappeared fairly quickly after that. If you were and Rimmer were in the same space, close enough to share one mic, figuring out what you were up to wouldn’t take a colossal leap.

The boys found out about you and Rimmer much faster than you anticipated. Embarrassingly, you didn’t even make it a whole day.

You weren’t sure what it was that first clued them in, maybe all the noise you made that night on Legion’s ship, or the dark marks Rimmer had left up and down your neck. Either way, you crumbled pretty quickly. Lister had asked how you liked your room, and after some pretty basic quizzing, it became all too clear that you hadn’t spent the night there. 

All that mattered was, they were happy for you. 

You took Rimmer’s hand off the intercom and turned it over until you could press a soft kiss to the centre of his palm. 

“You need to lighten up.”

Rimmer looked like he was going to argue, and as much as you loved going toe-to-toe with him, you’d much rather make him moan instead.

You pressed your hand over his mouth, tight enough so that he couldn’t get a word out, and slipped your other hand inside his ridiculous velvet trousers.

Rimmer’s voice vibrated, clammy and hot, against the skin of your palm. Then his eyebrows shot up, his eyes wide as you took him in your hand.

Smiling to yourself, you twisted your wrist, finding a comfortable position with enough room to move, and squeezed with just enough force to make Rimmer’s hips jerk, thrusting into your hand. 

You moved slowly at first, agonisingly so, running your closed fist up and down his hard cock, just enough friction to make him weak but not enough to get him anywhere.

You felt Rimmer groan against your palm but he made no move to pull your hand away. His big hands hung off your waist, clinging on like it was all he had left. He was completely at your mercy. Well, if he insisted.

“Does that feel good, love?” 

You practically purred the words by his ear, picking up speed and giving your wrist a firm twist, making Rimmer whine against your hand.

Your skin was beginning to grow moist from his hot, desperate breaths but you refused to move your hand away, not when Rimmer was looking at you like that, like he was trying to tell you that he was yours and would do anything you asked, like he was giving himself to you completely. 

“You’ve been so patient, hm? Waited all day for this?” 

You gently bit his earlobe, dragging your teeth over his skin, then bent your head and mouthed at his neck, wet and hot and desperate. 

“You gonna cum like this, handsome? In my hand without even taking your trousers off?” You huffed by his ear. “I’ve barely touched you, love, it’s almost too easy. You’re such a needy fucking thing.”

Rimmer’s eyes rolled back, then screwed shut, his moans keening and arching until even your hand clamped over his mouth couldn’t quiet him.

He bucked into your hand, chasing the feeling stretching across his lower belly, huffing and spluttering and shaking as he fucked into your hand, your warning not to move completely forgotten. 

You'd forgotten all about it too, you couldn’t care less now. Watching Rimmer come undone underneath you, his nose wrinkled, his brow beaded with sweat, it was everything, it surpassed all else.

You were more than ready to finish him off right there and then, where he’d make a mess of himself and you, but then Rimmer tapped the back of your hand covering his mouth. 

Immediately, you removed it, and Rimmer gasped for breath, his chest heaving, his pretty curls falling across his forehead. 

“Sorry, you’re so- Wanna be inside you. Can I c- Please.”

“You think you deserve it?” 

You bit your lip, embarrassed by your own confidence, astounded at how in control you sounded and how self-assured you felt despite the need welling in the pit of your belly.

It wasn’t the first time you’d taken the lead, it wouldn’t be the last, but the look Rimmer gave you whenever you spoke to him like that, it made your breath catch. It seemed to drive home that he was lucky to even be able to touch you, and you liked reminding him of that. 

“No,” He shook his head, smiling. “But I’d like to earn it.”

You grinned, shattering the power dynamic between you.

Rimmer’s eyes never left yours as you sat up and yanked off your trousers. He barely moved until you sank down onto him. You moaned together, half in relief, half in ecstasy.

With time nagging at the back of your mind, you rocked your hips, easing down until he was completely inside you. 

Groaning softly, Rimmer’s eyes slid closed. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” he whispered, echoing Kryten.

It shouldn't have, but it made you clench around him, your brow scrunching as you forced back a moan. You cut off Rimmer’s soft gasp with a searing kiss, your hands at the back of his head, as his fell to your hips, lifting you up and pulling you back down again, over and over, helping you move, guiding you until you were so breathless, you couldn’t even focus enough to kiss him properly.

You tugged off your shirt, chucking it somewhere over his shoulder. You almost laughed at the excited glint in Rimmer’s eyes.

If he could bleed, you swore he would’ve drawn blood with how hard he was biting down on his lip, trying to keep his head, working hard to keep quiet, but it was no use. He whimpered and sobbed, clutching at your hips and digging his fingertips in, his mouth now hanging open, panting and desperate as you set a harsh pace. 

“God, darling, you’re…” Rimmer’s head fell back against his shoulders for a second, his eyes squeezing shut. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

You realised you were beaming, laughing softly at the sweet compliment, offset by the way he moaned your name immediately after.

You kissed his cheek, his neck, moaning against his skin. He felt so good, you could hardly think. All you could do was grip Rimmer’s broad shoulders tight and hang on for dear life.

“That’s it, love. That’s it- Fuck, Arn, just like that.”

He let out another long, gorgeous, open-mouthed moan, cursing under his breath as he gripped you tight. You picked up the pace again, your brow creased in concentration.

He knew you so well now, knew just how to move with you, where to touch, how to kiss you so that it made you dizzy with desire. There was a lot to say about Rimmer, good and bad, but when he wanted to be good at something, he didn’t give in easily. 

Soon enough, your movements grew sloppy and desperate as you both drew closer, groaning into each other’s mouth as you chased your highs. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open in pure pleasure as you felt that familiar tension in your abdomen, like a rubber band about to snap. 

“Darling, I’m- I…”

“I know, love, I know,” You swore under your breath, your movements losing rhythm. “Me too, me too. I’m so close, Arn, you feel so fucking good. C’mon, handsome, c’mon, c’mon…”

His hands clenched at your hips, squeezing you tight. He seemed to forget his new strength. You didn’t blame him, you were having trouble remembering your own name. Still, it made you suck in a sharp breath. Rimmer noticed immediately, and pressed a soft kiss to your sternum, an apology. 

Despite the intense pleasure, you couldn’t help smiling. He was so sweet, when he wanted to be. Then with one more perfectly angled thrust, Rimmer  hit that perfect spot inside you. You gripped him tighter. 

Rimmer tensed.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna-”

He choked on the word as he felt you tighten around him. 

“Cum for me, Arn. That’s it, honey, that’s it. Cum inside me, love, please-”

With a sharp gasp, you felt warmth bloom inside you and your body jolted, moaning wordlessly as Rimmer followed close behind. You collapsed against each other, exhausted and sweaty, but laughing softly. 

As you waited for the stars in your vision to clear, you wrapped your arms around Rimmer and pressed your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in, listening to the shaky in and out of his simulated breaths.  

“Missed this,” You heard him murmur, close enough to your ear to make you shiver.

Groaning softly, you pulled away to meet his gaze.

“It’s only been a week.”

“Believe me,” Rimmer’s voice was low and faraway, like he barely had the energy to think, let alone speak. “After my rotten lot in life, once you get something this good, a week can feel like a decade.”

“You’re being dramatic, honey.”

Rimmer groaned, proving you right. He rested his forehead against your chest, breathing in deeply. You could feel his eyelashes brushing your skin. Legion was a psychopath and a lunatic, but you had to thank him. He’d given you a wonderful gift. 

“We just never get any time to ourselves,” Rimmer murmured. “I can’t help wishing we were home, or at least back on Red Dwarf. Then we could have our own space, our own lives…”

“For now, I’m just happy to have you, and the boys, and to be alive and healthy. We’ll find something, someday, Arn.”

“A promised land?”

”Something like that. Yeah.”

Slipping your fingers into his soft hair, you grazed your nails across his scalp, massaging him gently, until you felt all his muscles relax again. Rimmer melted into you, and all thoughts of lifting off of him faded away. It was wonderful to be so close, to stay connected, to feel Rimmer all around you, inside you, his lips on your skin, your name in his mouth.

“If we were back on Io,” he said, after a moment or two had passed. “I could find us a house. With a big garden and lots of space.”

It sent a spark through your chest, the thought of a future with Arnold. You loved him, he loved you, in any other setting, you supposed you would make plans like that, a home, a garden, holidays and birthdays and family get-togethers. It was enough to know he’d been daydreaming about it all. A life with you. He wanted you forever. 

It was almost too much to think about, so you hid your emotion behind a wry smile pressed to his temple. 

“You could have a little room for all your toy soldiers.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Rimmer raised his head at last, smiling gently. “I just want to give you a good life.”

Humming softly, you played with his curls, twisting them around your fingers again and again and again. 

“Just keep kissing me, that’s all I need for now. Maybe when we get Red Dwarf back, you and me could move to a different part of the ship. We could have a little section that’s just ours.” 

“Or we could abandon that lot and have Starbug all to ourselves.”

“Hmm, tempting.” 

There was a look in Rimmer’s eyes that told you he was only joking, but would absolutely be up for it if you were. Sorry to disappoint him but not that sorry, you kissed him sweetly, then called out to the ship’s computer.

“Holly, plot a course for that moon, please. And then close your eyes, you won’t wanna watch what happens next.”

“Why?” Holly’s voice rang out through the ship. “What’s going to happen next?”

You looked down at Rimmer. He looked equally confused, but when you reached back and undid your bra, his expression quickly softened.

Slowly, carefully, you raised yourself up, as Rimmer hissed by your ear, his fingers squeezing your hips, then you found the chair lever again. You wrapped your fingers around it and pulled, tipping Rimmer onto his back again. 

“Arnold and I are going to play chess. Aren’t we, dear?”

Arnie grinned up at you, happy for the first time since his death, to be alive.

The End.