secondtechnicianrimmer

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Red Dwarf // S04E02: DNA

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: Suggestive content

Chapter Fourteen: Starbuggin’

//

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!”

//

Next Chapter

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

idek if you're still on this account... Rimmer fans are starving and you are our best source of food... PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏 IM BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES!!! YOU WRITE SO WELL 💔💔💔

still here! still writing! just slowly as tragically i am depressed and have a full time job (perhaps the two are connected who knows 😭😭)

i have maybe two, probably one chapter left of Space Corp. Directive #1215225 and then i have another fic in mind that should just be a one shot sexy thing pre-series one? that if i write down here in black and white, then i have to force myself to start?? and then who knows

but yes still here! still active! and very very very pleased and honoured and grateful that anyone reads what i make and i’m so glad you like it and man just thank you!!! 🥰

#anons #she talks

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Some self indulgent slush. I just want these two to hug, yknow!

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

…because I like eating fish!

I love Cat so much.

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

your ability to accurately capture Rimmer’s character is phenomenal; pls continue to write, it’s therapy!!!! ugh. Ur so talented mate

screaming and crying thank you so MUCH i’m always absolutely sure i’m writing him OOC but i’ve tried not to care too much about it but this made my day lmao thank you!!!!! xx

#she talks

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: None!

Chapter Thirteen: Stay With Me

//

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.”

//

Next Chapter

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Hi I just wanted to let you know your Space Corp. Directive #1215225 fic is everything to me oh my gosh!!!

omg thank you so much! i really thought i’d be posting it just for me to read lmao so i’m really pleased other people actually like it!! ily!!!!

#she talks #anons

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Draw the squad prompts come free with Red Dwarf

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[secondtechnicianrimmer]

The one and only Cat ✨️💅

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: None! Apart from some flirting

Chapter Twelve: Under The Console

//

“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.”

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. It 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 down a grey box. 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 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!”

“Rimmer? Lefty? 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 us?”

“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 just 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.

“Looked where?”

“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… 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 kissed him, he 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 shunted up an octave, 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 pale. “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, to 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.”

//

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: Snogging! A bit!

Chapter Eleven: Terrorform

//

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.

//

Next Chapter

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

You're a fantastic writer, such high quality, I love you for writing this ❤️

oh!!! thank you so much!!! i really appreciate that!!! i just wanna make something silly to distract people for a while :’) so thank you xx

#anons

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

i feel like i enjoyed backwards for the wrong reasons

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: None! Apart from some flirting

Chapter Ten: Someone To Watch Over Me

//

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.

//

Next Chapter

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

quick ace sketch 4 today

#need him #red dwarf #red dwarf fanart

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: None! Apart from some arguing

Chapter Nine: Holoship

//

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.”

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?”

“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.

//

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