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Oct. 24th, 2006 09:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
h_hollister"So, what's the bad news?"
"Eh, nuffin. Not so much as a bleep on th' scanner-scope."
"And the Cat doesn't smell anything?"
"He did, act'lly. He said he smelled breakfast wiff his name on it. He's in the galley."
"Ah. Well, changeover."
"'Bout smeggin' time. I was thinking you and Rimmer weren't never comin' out."
"I'm only ten minutes late, Lister."
"Where's your life-partner, then?"
"He's in the head, actually. Why, you gonna go check up on him?"
"Not if you paid me. Not for all the gold on Mars."
Hippolyta slid into the seat next to Lister, nursing her morning cup of brew. It had a passing resemblance to coffee. Perhaps a distant cousin. It looked at a filter full of grounds, once upon a time. She adjusted the seat to her height and rested her drink in the holder next to the steering column. Yawned, stretched, got the last of the morning crud out of her eyes. Half-expecting Lister to bolt out of the cockpit the second she was settled, she was surprised to note that he didn't. He was, instead, just staring out the view-screen, his chin resting on the steering mechanism.
"...Lister? You all right?"
"Eh? Oh, yeh. Just thinkin'." He glanced over at the blonde woman next to him, and then back out the viewscreen, his eyes distant.
Her first instinct was to say something along the lines of 'First time for everything, I suppose,' but she bit it back. Something about the look on his face actually kept her from snarking him stupid, as per usual. Odd feeling, considering everything. She and Lister had only a passing acquaintance, really. Even taking into consideration the fact that they were trapped on a small ship together, had been for the last eight weeks. She'd heard Rimmer complain about Lister, and became mama-bear protective. This made tensions on the Starbug high, but under the surface. Like a pot just about to hit the boil.
"Anything you wanna talk about?" She was amazed to hear those words coming out of her mouth. Lister apparently shared that amazement, because he glanced over at her like her hair had spontaneously combusted.
"Since when are you standin' in for ship's counselor?" he asked incredulously. "Do we have to get you a Deanna Troi costume and a curly wig?"
"I mean it," she said, slightly defensively. It was out of character for her to offer this sort of thing, and she really had no idea why she was doing so. "I mean, your choices for somebody to talk to are pretty freakin' slim around here. You could go to Kochanski, but she's the girlfriend and will try to coddle. Rimmer, hah, well. The Cat? He wouldn't listen. Kryten would coddle you even worse than Kristine. You know I'm right."
Lister shook his head. "Yeh, I know it. But you? Rimmer's girlfriend? How do I know you won't whisper sweet nuffinks in his ear and give him ammunition for makin' my life a livin' hell?"
She winced, bit her lip. That stung, frankly. "I'm more than just Rimmer's girlfriend, Lister."
"Are yeh?" He glanced at her again, giving her a look of hard inspection. "S'funny, I hadn't noticed. Whole reason we're here is 'cuz o' you, after all."
And that? Stung even worse. Her face settled into her 'officer' mask, the cold look that let nothing through. She turned away from Lister and set about doing her job, keeping the 'Bug on course.
There was a long silence, an awkward silence. The kind of silence you get when two people know that the other is royally pissed off, and could actually end up hitting each other. This was it, the pot was about to boil over. She expected Lister to leave again, and again he did not.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"You gonna say anything, or are yeh just gonna sit there and be narky and keep steerin' the 'Bug toward that moon?"
She started, glanced at their coordinates, and sure enough, she had the Starbug on a direct collision course. Blushing at her angry error, she corrected course and aimed the ship elsewhere.
"Sorry," she muttered.
"Eh, it happens. Moons sneak up on yeh, get in your blind spots, pass on the left. Daft buggers."
She chuckled, but it wasn't an entirely happy sound.
"No. I mean I'm sorry I landed you guys in this spot." It was still muttered, said into her considerable chest.
Lister sat back in his chair, raised an eyebrow. There was a slightly cheeky grin present, too. "What was that, now? Couldn't hear yeh, got a bit of rattle off the seat there."
Her head snapped up and she glared at him.
"I said I was sorry I landed you guys in this spot! But, Christ on a crotchrocket, Lister, you can't blame just me! You were the gimboid who went along with Rimmer's nutzoid plan to spring me from the brig!"
"O' course I did," he answered mildly. "He's me friend."
That shut her down faster than a frozen pipe. With those few words, he completely ruined all her careful social calculations. She stared at Lister, openmouthed, blinking. "What? But..."
"Oh, we both deny it. Taking the piss outta Rimmer's me favorite pass-time. There's a reason Holly brought back his hologram, yannow. Did it to keep me sane. Being alone's the worst thing a man can go through. I mean utterly alone. Last human. You might see th' bickerin' and backbitin'. But it's not 'cuz I really hate the git. It's how we are, always have been, always will be. Yeh and Kristine don't get it. Don't expect yeh to, really. I guess it's a bloke thing. Birds are sneakier about it. Like you and Kris are."
Hippolyta couldn't deny that she and Kochanski had a beautifully choreographed passive-aggressive ballet going on. Their favorite dance floor was the galley, where two 'domestic goddesses' clashed over salad creme and the proper way to scramble eggs. There would be false smiles, cheerful bits of bitchery, tight words exchanged. Whenever somebody burned the toast, it became a running gag to see who could do it better next time. Add Kryten to that mix and you got a finely tuned snark machine.
Lister continued, filling Hippolyta's stunned silence.
"Guess what I'm sayin' is that whatever happened to get us here, we're here. I hate it. Yeh, I do kinna blame you for it. But I'm not gonna cry about it, yannow? Wherever yeh go, there yeh are."
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, still staring at him, studying him closely for any sign of him joking. "I mean, what do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?"
"Nuthin'," he replied. "Yeh don't have to do anything. I'm just tellin' yeh what I'm thinkin' about. Yeh asked, after all."
"So I did." She picked up her coffee again and sipped. It was sneaking toward cold. "Is this your way of trying to make friends?"
"Nah. Rimmer'd never let us hear the end of it if we was friendly. Accuse us of plotting against him."
Another not-so-happy chuckle.
"Yeah, I know. He's a paranoid smegger, isn't he?"
"Oh, and yeh aren't? Miss Parole Officer?"
"It's a fair cop."
Lister stood up and stretched, and Hippolyta figured that was the end of the conversation. She turned her attention back to the viewscreen, and then glanced back over when she heard his seat springs give under his weight again.
"Look, Hollister. I really don't mind that yer here. I can see what good yer doin' for Rimmer. He's actually sneakin' into being happy, for a change. But. Yeh have his heart in yer hands. And he's not an easy guy to live wif. I get you."
There was another long silence, where she tried to grasp what he was saying, and getting a cold, sinking feeling in her stomach at his words.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I get you. I know how you tick, Hollister. I understand. Yer one of those people who loves gettin' into miserable situations. Rimmer's the same way. S'why you're so good together. But I can see it goin' bad. Real bad. And I don't want that to happen to either of yeh."
That cold, sinking feeling increased, and she blushed angrily.
"Well, thank you for that, Doctor Phil. While you're at it, why don't you analyze my home life and pick apart my childhood?"
Lister stood up again, and this time he was chuckling.
"Maybe some other time. I'm gonna go sleep. Watch out for those moons, Hollister."
And with that, he was gone.
She stewed in her own juices for a few agonizing minutes, her grip on the steering column tight and tense.
It's quite something to open yourself up to somebody, offer an ear, and get something completely unexpected in return. If she understood him correctly, he was saying that he was friends with Rimmer...and she was the same sort of person as her lover. So...he wouldn't mind being friends with her?
What the smeg?
Her musings were interrupted by Rimmer finally joining her in the cockpit. His hair was damp from his shower, and he had a mug of tea in his hand. He slid into the ops seat behind and to the left of her, yawning a bit.
"Morning. Anything to report?"
She glanced over her shoulder at him. What to say?
"...Not so much as a blip on the scanner-scope. And I love you."
"Love you too. Now, eyes on the prize, we're looking for a planetoid or moon with pure water today. Atmosphere of at least forty percent oxygen, so I'm setting long range scanners for that. And, while we're at it, we should keep a sharp look out for mineral content. Fuel is low, we need isotopes to give her a boost. Old girl won't know what hit her."
She smiled, turned her attention back to her steering.
"Aye aye, sir."
"Eh, nuffin. Not so much as a bleep on th' scanner-scope."
"And the Cat doesn't smell anything?"
"He did, act'lly. He said he smelled breakfast wiff his name on it. He's in the galley."
"Ah. Well, changeover."
"'Bout smeggin' time. I was thinking you and Rimmer weren't never comin' out."
"I'm only ten minutes late, Lister."
"Where's your life-partner, then?"
"He's in the head, actually. Why, you gonna go check up on him?"
"Not if you paid me. Not for all the gold on Mars."
Hippolyta slid into the seat next to Lister, nursing her morning cup of brew. It had a passing resemblance to coffee. Perhaps a distant cousin. It looked at a filter full of grounds, once upon a time. She adjusted the seat to her height and rested her drink in the holder next to the steering column. Yawned, stretched, got the last of the morning crud out of her eyes. Half-expecting Lister to bolt out of the cockpit the second she was settled, she was surprised to note that he didn't. He was, instead, just staring out the view-screen, his chin resting on the steering mechanism.
"...Lister? You all right?"
"Eh? Oh, yeh. Just thinkin'." He glanced over at the blonde woman next to him, and then back out the viewscreen, his eyes distant.
Her first instinct was to say something along the lines of 'First time for everything, I suppose,' but she bit it back. Something about the look on his face actually kept her from snarking him stupid, as per usual. Odd feeling, considering everything. She and Lister had only a passing acquaintance, really. Even taking into consideration the fact that they were trapped on a small ship together, had been for the last eight weeks. She'd heard Rimmer complain about Lister, and became mama-bear protective. This made tensions on the Starbug high, but under the surface. Like a pot just about to hit the boil.
"Anything you wanna talk about?" She was amazed to hear those words coming out of her mouth. Lister apparently shared that amazement, because he glanced over at her like her hair had spontaneously combusted.
"Since when are you standin' in for ship's counselor?" he asked incredulously. "Do we have to get you a Deanna Troi costume and a curly wig?"
"I mean it," she said, slightly defensively. It was out of character for her to offer this sort of thing, and she really had no idea why she was doing so. "I mean, your choices for somebody to talk to are pretty freakin' slim around here. You could go to Kochanski, but she's the girlfriend and will try to coddle. Rimmer, hah, well. The Cat? He wouldn't listen. Kryten would coddle you even worse than Kristine. You know I'm right."
Lister shook his head. "Yeh, I know it. But you? Rimmer's girlfriend? How do I know you won't whisper sweet nuffinks in his ear and give him ammunition for makin' my life a livin' hell?"
She winced, bit her lip. That stung, frankly. "I'm more than just Rimmer's girlfriend, Lister."
"Are yeh?" He glanced at her again, giving her a look of hard inspection. "S'funny, I hadn't noticed. Whole reason we're here is 'cuz o' you, after all."
And that? Stung even worse. Her face settled into her 'officer' mask, the cold look that let nothing through. She turned away from Lister and set about doing her job, keeping the 'Bug on course.
There was a long silence, an awkward silence. The kind of silence you get when two people know that the other is royally pissed off, and could actually end up hitting each other. This was it, the pot was about to boil over. She expected Lister to leave again, and again he did not.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"You gonna say anything, or are yeh just gonna sit there and be narky and keep steerin' the 'Bug toward that moon?"
She started, glanced at their coordinates, and sure enough, she had the Starbug on a direct collision course. Blushing at her angry error, she corrected course and aimed the ship elsewhere.
"Sorry," she muttered.
"Eh, it happens. Moons sneak up on yeh, get in your blind spots, pass on the left. Daft buggers."
She chuckled, but it wasn't an entirely happy sound.
"No. I mean I'm sorry I landed you guys in this spot." It was still muttered, said into her considerable chest.
Lister sat back in his chair, raised an eyebrow. There was a slightly cheeky grin present, too. "What was that, now? Couldn't hear yeh, got a bit of rattle off the seat there."
Her head snapped up and she glared at him.
"I said I was sorry I landed you guys in this spot! But, Christ on a crotchrocket, Lister, you can't blame just me! You were the gimboid who went along with Rimmer's nutzoid plan to spring me from the brig!"
"O' course I did," he answered mildly. "He's me friend."
That shut her down faster than a frozen pipe. With those few words, he completely ruined all her careful social calculations. She stared at Lister, openmouthed, blinking. "What? But..."
"Oh, we both deny it. Taking the piss outta Rimmer's me favorite pass-time. There's a reason Holly brought back his hologram, yannow. Did it to keep me sane. Being alone's the worst thing a man can go through. I mean utterly alone. Last human. You might see th' bickerin' and backbitin'. But it's not 'cuz I really hate the git. It's how we are, always have been, always will be. Yeh and Kristine don't get it. Don't expect yeh to, really. I guess it's a bloke thing. Birds are sneakier about it. Like you and Kris are."
Hippolyta couldn't deny that she and Kochanski had a beautifully choreographed passive-aggressive ballet going on. Their favorite dance floor was the galley, where two 'domestic goddesses' clashed over salad creme and the proper way to scramble eggs. There would be false smiles, cheerful bits of bitchery, tight words exchanged. Whenever somebody burned the toast, it became a running gag to see who could do it better next time. Add Kryten to that mix and you got a finely tuned snark machine.
Lister continued, filling Hippolyta's stunned silence.
"Guess what I'm sayin' is that whatever happened to get us here, we're here. I hate it. Yeh, I do kinna blame you for it. But I'm not gonna cry about it, yannow? Wherever yeh go, there yeh are."
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, still staring at him, studying him closely for any sign of him joking. "I mean, what do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?"
"Nuthin'," he replied. "Yeh don't have to do anything. I'm just tellin' yeh what I'm thinkin' about. Yeh asked, after all."
"So I did." She picked up her coffee again and sipped. It was sneaking toward cold. "Is this your way of trying to make friends?"
"Nah. Rimmer'd never let us hear the end of it if we was friendly. Accuse us of plotting against him."
Another not-so-happy chuckle.
"Yeah, I know. He's a paranoid smegger, isn't he?"
"Oh, and yeh aren't? Miss Parole Officer?"
"It's a fair cop."
Lister stood up and stretched, and Hippolyta figured that was the end of the conversation. She turned her attention back to the viewscreen, and then glanced back over when she heard his seat springs give under his weight again.
"Look, Hollister. I really don't mind that yer here. I can see what good yer doin' for Rimmer. He's actually sneakin' into being happy, for a change. But. Yeh have his heart in yer hands. And he's not an easy guy to live wif. I get you."
There was another long silence, where she tried to grasp what he was saying, and getting a cold, sinking feeling in her stomach at his words.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I get you. I know how you tick, Hollister. I understand. Yer one of those people who loves gettin' into miserable situations. Rimmer's the same way. S'why you're so good together. But I can see it goin' bad. Real bad. And I don't want that to happen to either of yeh."
That cold, sinking feeling increased, and she blushed angrily.
"Well, thank you for that, Doctor Phil. While you're at it, why don't you analyze my home life and pick apart my childhood?"
Lister stood up again, and this time he was chuckling.
"Maybe some other time. I'm gonna go sleep. Watch out for those moons, Hollister."
And with that, he was gone.
She stewed in her own juices for a few agonizing minutes, her grip on the steering column tight and tense.
It's quite something to open yourself up to somebody, offer an ear, and get something completely unexpected in return. If she understood him correctly, he was saying that he was friends with Rimmer...and she was the same sort of person as her lover. So...he wouldn't mind being friends with her?
What the smeg?
Her musings were interrupted by Rimmer finally joining her in the cockpit. His hair was damp from his shower, and he had a mug of tea in his hand. He slid into the ops seat behind and to the left of her, yawning a bit.
"Morning. Anything to report?"
She glanced over her shoulder at him. What to say?
"...Not so much as a blip on the scanner-scope. And I love you."
"Love you too. Now, eyes on the prize, we're looking for a planetoid or moon with pure water today. Atmosphere of at least forty percent oxygen, so I'm setting long range scanners for that. And, while we're at it, we should keep a sharp look out for mineral content. Fuel is low, we need isotopes to give her a boost. Old girl won't know what hit her."
She smiled, turned her attention back to her steering.
"Aye aye, sir."
