*******************************************

"Why do birds... cha cha cha! Every time, you are neeeear? Just like me, da da dee dum... close to you!"

Rimmer was blithely scrubbing out a clogged soup nozzle, humming and singing to himself as he did it. Carpenters songs had never really been on his Top 40 Hit Parade, but today seemed like the day to begin appreciating them. The air was fresh and fragrant, the scutters were shining and hummed in just the right key, even the Cat and Kryten, his assistants in his nozzle cleansing, were behaving themselves.

Of course, Rimmer wouldn't have noticed if they were about to sneak up and bean him with a rubber hammer. Which they were both contemplating, if only to shut up the steady stream of nonsense coming out of his mouth. The other, more obvious reasons, would be enough to make them do it.

"On the day that you were born the angels got together and decided to create a dream come truuuuue!" Scrub scrub scrub. "So they sprinkled moon rocks in your hair so golden-starlight, oh your eyes are so bluuuuue!"

"Ahem."

"Hmm? What's wrong, Kryten?" Rimmer glanced at the mechanoid quizzically, with a slightly drugged look in his eyes.

"You got the words wrong, sir."

"Did I?" asked Rimmer chirpily, as he reached for a 42-B nozzle cleaner.

"Yes sir. Even someone with Mad Cow Disease knows that the words go, 'So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair so gold and starlight in your eyes so blue.'" Kryten actually sang this last bit, and sounded rather a lot like Mary Carpenter. "Really sir, it's common knowledge to anyone with a connection to Kaaza!"

"That's nice, Kryten. I'll tell Officer Kaaza that you said so." Rimmer had removed the scrub-brush from the offending nozzle and punched up the computer. "Chicken soup!" he trilled. A slight gurgly-whoosh-bing noise later, Rimmer grabbed the cup from the dispenser shelf and took a sip. The Cat and Kryten waited for the inevitable spit take.

"Mmmm. Absolutely scrummy! My compliments to the chef!" He threw a quick salute at the machine, grabbed his cart and began pushing it down the hall. "C'mon, boys! Only 83 to go! Let's get cracking." He glided away, humming more silly love songs under his breath.

The Cat turned to Kryten. "What the smeg is wrong with Trans-Am nostrils? He actually seems... happy!"

Kryten gave a little shrug. "I honestly couldn't say. To all available data, he seems like he may be in love." Kryten lowered his voice an octave when he spoke these last two words.

"In love!?!?" screeched the Cat. "No way. Not him. That's disgusting!"

Kryten nodded sagely. "I've noticed that when human males are in love, they do things that would baffle others. Even notionally sane men, like Rimmer, descend into the most depraved levels of human behavior. They drool and gibber and say that love songs finally make sense. They even take interest in things that are decidedly unmasculine! Take flowers, for example. Most men don't look twice at flowers. But get a woman in the vicinity, and suddenly they're scooping up armloads of them and laying them at the feet of their desired one. And do they care one whit that I have to change the water and throw them out when they're dead? No, of course they don't."

"Uh-huh," agreed the Cat noncommittally. He was firmly of the opinion that he'd like to give flowers to some woman, some day. Kryten was on a roll, though, and there was no stopping him. The mechanoid continued.

"And perfume. Why women feel the need to splash an alcohol-based product that smells like flowers on their necks is beyond me. Men don't like flowers! We've already covered this! If a woman really wants to get a man's attention, she should wear a scent like baked goods. Or Beer! Why is there no beer perfume?"

"Have you ever smelled a skunky Mickey's? That's why," proclaimed the Cat.

"Well, that's true..." waffled Kryten, annoyed that he'd been interrupted from his rantings. "But still. Men fall all over themselves when a woman is in the room. It's enough to make me want to dump my core memory in the john and flush until I can't anymore."

"Well, if Smegbreath's in love... I don't even want to think about it. It's making all my hair stand on end. And not in a good sexy way either. More like in a Crying Game way, if you know what I mean," said the Cat.

"I'm in full agreement," nodded Kryten.

"If he sings 'Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong' one more time, he's gonna get a 42-B cleaner right up his..."

"C'mon! You're lagging behind! Let's get a move on!" Rimmer's voice came singing back down the hall at them. "Things to do, places to be! Chop chop!"

The Cat and Kryten began their walk down to meet the second tech, dragging their feet like they were the guests of honor at a funeral.

As they rounded the corner to meet up with Rimmer, they saw Lister and Kochanski running at full tilt from the opposite end of the corridor. Kryten surpressed a jealousy algorithm that was threatening to overload his data banks. Ever since that silly bint was around, Lister just wasn't the same man. Why, Lister hadn't given him a lying lesson in months! Kryten couldn't understand why all those in and out bits gave Lister that funny bulge in his trousers...

The Cat gave Lister and Kochanski a wave, thinking that they had arrived just in time to relieve them. He had major preening time to catch up on! And his nap schedule was totally out of whack, due to this work thing. "Hey, it's Lister and Officer Bud Babe! Good timing, guys! I'm off!" He began to walk away and find a nice corner to curl up in, preferably over a heating duct. But Kryten reached over and grabbed the Cat's arm, sensing something amiss. Both Lister and Kochanski were out of breath from running, and their faces betrayed some horror recently experienced. Kryten knew something had gone terribly wrong. And when that happened, he had to clean it up. He didn't want to miss a syllable!

Rimmer was oblivious. He was still humming softly to himself, cleaning out the nozzle that was inches from his nose. He didn't even turn to acknowledge their arrival.

It took a moment for Lister to get his wind back, his hand on his chest, leaning against the wall for support, taking deep, shuddering gasps. Kochanski was less put out, as she wasn't a smoker, but she too was having difficulties. Finally, she gathered enough air to say, "Rimmer, there's something we need to talk to you about..."

Rimmer smirked to himself, his face still buried in the clogged machine. "Not to worry ma'am. I did miss the first three hours of my shift, but Hippol... I mean, Officer Hollister cleared me for it. It's ok. It won't happen again..."

Dave jumped in to say, between gasps, "No Rimmer, it's not that..."

"Lister, I know you're my superior officer now, but you have my word of honor that I will never be late again. Talk to Officer Hollister. She was there."

"She's in trouble."

Rimmer froze. He dropped his 42-B cleaner and slowly turned to Lister.

"What?" he whispered hoarsely. "What do you mean, she's in trouble?"

"We were waiting outside the captain's office, and she went in before us. She was unconscious when she left. Marone and Cheboigan were dragging her off..."

But Rimmer did not wait to hear where Lister thought they had taken her. He was running down the hall, legs pumping and arms flailing, down to the common medibay 17 decks below.

********************

When Kelly McGuinness, head nurse and old maid, began her shift in the infirmary that day, she didn't expect anything like this...

She was sitting at her desk in the lobby when the door opened with a whoosh and a man ran in. She was confronted with the sight of a very red faced and scared looking second technician, with no visible injury anywhere on him. But the way he had come running into the room had made her believe that he was hurt somehow. She let her professional demeanor slip into place, suppressed her desire to snap insults at him and greeted him with a curt, "What can I do for you today, sir?"

"Where is she?"

McGuinness pursed her shriveled lips together and replied, "She who, sir?"

"Hippolyta! Hippolyta Hollister! Captain's niece! Young, blonde girl. She was brought in unconscious just a little while ago!"

McGuinness blinked with her fishy gray eyes at Rimmer. "There's nobody here like that, Mr...." she glanced at the name sewn on his uniform. "Rimmer. We're not the missing persons office you know. Why don't you speak to security...?" She was snapping this out, not looking at Rimmer. Instead, she was shuffling the paperwork on her desk, organizing it, using it as a shield to protect her from this obviously deranged person. She was so intent on ignoring him that she actually did ignore him. She glanced up to see if he had left, and found herself staring at his flared nostrils. He was over her desk, both hands firmly planted on the top, leaning into her personal space.

She flinched backwards, nearly knocking herself out of her chair. If his hands hadn't been on the paperwork, it would have gone flying.

Her mouth became slack in dumb amazement as he spoke to her again. His voice was cold, calculated and rather high. He sounded like Dirty Harry on helium. "Look, you senile old trout. I know that she was brought here. She was unconscious. So where the smeg else would she go? I'm not leaving until you tell me where she is."

McGuinness wobbled her jaw and puffed her cheeks and looked rather like the piscine animal that Rimmer had called her. "How dare you? If you don't leave right this instant, I'll... I'll... I'll call security!"

"Fabulous!" exploded Rimmer. "Call security! In fact, no! Let me call them!" He goose-stepped over to the door, leaned his upper torso out, and called out, "Halp! Please! Security! There's a man in here looking to visit a sick patient! Oh, hurry, please!" He pitched his voice high, and sounded just like McGuinness. He turned back to her, his eyes glowing with a manic energy. "Where is she, you catarrhitic old bitch?"

That was too much. She stood up, imposing her full 5 foot 6 inches on Rimmer and said, "You can't speak to me that way! I'll have you put in the brig for this!"

Rimmer froze. He blinked at McGuinness. Then, seizing her by her upper arms, he proclaimed, "Of course! She's not in this infirmary, she's a parole officer, so they must have taken her to the medibay down there!" He released her and whirled towards the door. Then, inches from the exit, he spun back, grabbed the shocked lady by the arms again and gave her a resounding kiss on the cheek. Fully loaded with a loud "Smack" noise. "Thank you." And he was gone.

McGuinness slowly sank back down into her ergonomic chair, raising a hand to touch her moistened cheek.

Good lord, what a day. She snuck a hand into her desk's lowest drawer and grabbed a silver flask. If this wasn't the time for a quick nip, then she didn't know when would be...

*********************

Rimmer found himself wondering how to get back to Floor 13.

He had taken the lift, yes. The lift had told him that it would be more than happy to take him to level 12 or level 14. But there was no level 13. Honest. I swear on my life. May the all the calculators in Silicone Heaven strike me down if I tell a lie.

After several futile minutes of, "Look, you smegging junk heap, I've only spent the last two years on Floor 13..." "I'm sorry, but..." Rimmer recalled that when they had first taken him to Floor 13, they had used special pass keys to even get the lift to move. Rimmer didn't have one, let alone two. So now he had to figure out a way to get down onto Floor 13. And there was only one person on this ship sneaky enough, cunning enough, and mean enough to get him where he wanted.

But Hippolyta was unavailable, so he'd have to settle for Lister.

******************

"Mr. Lister? What on earth is going on? Why is Mr. Rimmer acting so peculiar?" Kryten, the Cat, and Lister were completing the rounds of the dispensers. Rimmer's sudden departure had drawn a few confused comments from the Cat and Kryten, but Lister had answered with a curt, "I'll tell you blokes later." Kochanski had nodded, leaned in, gave Dave a quick kiss and skedaddled back to her duty station.

"He's got something he needs to take care of, Krites. Don't say nothing to nobody, ok? He's in enough trouble as is."

Kryten knitted his nonexistent eyebrows together in an expression of confusion. Lister was watching Rimmer's back?

The world was coming to an end. It was the seventh sign of the Apocalypse.

But Kryten did not comment, he simply continued about his duties, getting his groinal socket ready for a vacuum attachment.

They wandered the corridors for a little while, their minds not really on their work. (Even the joy of cleaning couldn't lift the gloomy mood from Kryten.) Somehow, deep in their guts, the boys knew that something was about to go horribly wrong. It would be tragic, it would be earth-shattering, and it would, somehow, be all Rimmer's fault.

Speak of the devil...

Rimmer jogged back around the corner, his feet becoming entangled as he tried to stop short upon seeing Lister. He slid across the last foot and a half, his arms wind milling as he struggled to keep his balance. Lister grabbed Rimmer's shoulders to try and catch him, but his forward momentum was too much. They both ended up in a heap on the floor, with Lister's elbow in Rimmer's eye.

"Ow! You smegging gimboid. Get off me!"

"Sorry, man. You ok?" Kryten bustled over to help up the two men. The Cat stood off to the side, picking a small speck of lint off his lapel. "Did you find Hollister in the medibay? Was she ok?"

"She's not there," stated Rimmer bluntly. "The only other place they could have taken her would be Floor 13's medibay. But I don't know how I can get down..." he didn't finish, as Lister cut him off.

"Floor 13? What the smeg did she do? She didn't give the captain that bloody nose, did she?"

"Bloody nose?!? You didn't tell me that, you gimboid! Smeg. She hit her own uncle? Smegging smeg." Rimmer wrung his hands and paced back and forth. He suddenly stopped and grabbed Lister's arm. "We're getting her out of there."

"You what? Break her out? No way, man. Absolutely and totally out of the question."

Rimmer didn't even blink. He just leaned a little closer to Lister, grabbed his upper arm and said, "If you're not going to help me, I'll do it alone."

Lister pondered this. If Rimmer tried to do a jail break on his own, then the whole lot of them would end up back on Floor 13 faster than you could say Cow Vindaloo. It was, in terms of threats, a highly effective one. "Smeg." Lister shrugged out of Rimmer's death grip. "You sure know how to make a bloke feel like a complete arsehole, don't you, Rimmer?"

Rimmer, instead of his usual smug bastard act, simply said, "Kryten, Cat? Are you with me?"

Kryten said, "Sir, if I may say, to attempt to break a prisoner off of Floor 13 would be extraordinarily foolhardy. Not to mention detrimental to your career."

"Screw my career," said Rimmer mildly. The other men blinked in shock. "She's down there because of me, and I'm getting her out."

"How is she down there because of you, Rimmer?"

"Because. Now drop it. C'mon." Rimmer strode back down the corridor, toward the lift that he had just vacated. The other three shrugged and followed him.

When they got to the lift, Lister said, "Kryten? Can you convince this lift that there is a Floor 13 and that we have clearance to be down there?"

"I can try, sir," said the mechanoid. "But we'll have to leave the doors open during my conversation with it. It needs to think that there's nobody calling it."

"Fine. Cat? Will you be lookout? I need to talk to Rimmer."

"Oh, great. Nothing for the Cat to do, so he'll just be the chump who gets busted first!"

"Cat..." intoned Lister softly. "C'mon. Just give a holler if you see anybody coming."

"Fine!" snarled the Cat. "But if any of you monkeys mess this up, my wardrobe will never forgive you! It missed me, dammit!"

As the Cat went to stand about 20 feet down the hall, and Kryten began to fiddle with wiring of the lift, Lister pulled Rimmer aside. "Rimmer, man, what the smeg happened? One minute you're bitching and moaning about how much you hate this girl, and next you're risking your neck to break her out of the brig? Why? And I don't want to hear any bullshit. The truth. Start talking."

"I love her."

Lister felt as if his eardrums were going to explode from hearing Rimmer say that phrase. "What? You're kidding."

"Is it so amazing to think that I could fall in love with someone, Lister?"

"Yes, frankly."

"Shut up, Lister. I love her. I need her. She's everything I've ever wanted and I'm not going to let her rot down there."

"Smeg," said Lister after a moment. "Does she know this? I mean, this isn't some weird stalker thing, is it?"

"Shut the smeg up, Dog Food Face. I'm not going to let you talk to me like that. Either show a little respect or we'll settle this like men."

"Ok, ok, ease up, Rimmer. No disrespect, but the last time was MacGruder. And she wasn't exactly all there, if you know what I mean..."

"This is nothing like that, Lister. She loves me back. I know she does. She kissed me."

"She put the move on you? Right on, man! I always knew you'd find the right girl someday!"

Rimmer turned a slight shade of pink, but ignored it. Lister did so too. "Hot damn, Rimmer! Now it's a mission of mercy! If all girls think kissing you is an arrestable offense you'll have to beat them off with a stick."

Rimmer flared his nostrils and pursed his lips. "I don't want any other girls, Lister," he said through a clenched jaw. "I just want her."

"Yeah," whispered Lister. "I can see that you do. Ok, man. I'm with you. Let's get your lady love out of the clink!" Lister slapped Rimmer soundly on his back. Rimmer was pushed forward by the blow, and shot Lister a dirty look.

"Sirs! I need you!" Kryten called to them. Rimmer and Lister bounded into the lift, wondering what the mechanoid could possibly want. "Sirs, I've convinced the lift that you're both security officers, but it wants hand print identifications! Put your palms on the plate there."

"But, Krites, we're not security officers!"

"Just trust me, sirs! Do it! I've bypassed the lift's identity circuit. It wouldn't know it's own mother!"

"Lifts have mothers?" asked Rimmer, a perplexed look on his face.

"It's an expression, you dingus." Lister put his hand on the plate, as Rimmer did the same.

The lift's doors swooshed shut, and the lift began to descend. "Hey, we've forgotten the Cat!" exclaimed Lister.

"It's too late, sir. If we try to go back, we'll have to start rewiring it all over again."

"IT?!?" came a feminine disembodied voice. "It? I'm not an it! I'm a woman and I have feelings you know." It was the lift, complaining through the speaker over their heads. "I've never been so insulted in all my life!"

"Leave this to me, sirs," said Kryten soothingly. "Now, Helga. You can't speak to Mr. Lister and Mr. Rimmer in that manner. I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you apologize to them immediately."

"Lister? Rimmer? There aren't any security officers by those names! You lied to me, Kryten! And you said you were going to take me to Rio for the Carnival! I'll never forgive you for this!" There was the soft sound of crying coming over the speakers now, and the lift lurched dangerously.

Lister looked askance at Kryten. "You asked the lift out on a date?"

If Kryten was capable of blushing, he would be. "I had to, sir. She's very temperamental." He lowered her voice. "I think that it's her time of the month. Maintenance. You know how it is with women..."

"Temperamental?!?" the lift screeched. "I'll give you temperamental, you hopped up skutter with lavo water for brains!"

There was a horrible grinding sound, and the lift stopped with a violent jolt. The lights went out. Rimmer and Lister fell into their second tangle of the day.

"Smeg!" Lister grabbed his trusty Zippo lighter out of his pocket and gave it a flick. The scant illumination jumped around on their features. Kryten tapped on the lift's console.

"Helga?" No response. "Helga? Please, I'm very sorry. Don't leave us here in the dark."

No response.

Kryten turned back from the console. "I'm sorry, sirs. She's sent out a distress call and we're stopped between floors. There's no way for me to override it."

"Well then, let's get the smeg out of here." Lister nodded toward the doors and said, "Ya think we could force them open, Krites?"

"We can certainly try, sir."

The trio got into position, and began to grunt and pull and strain in their efforts to open the doors.

"Almost got it. Almost there..." moaned Lister. Suddenly, their heaving had it's desired effect, and the doors opened with a snap.

"Ow!" came Helga's voice again. "That hurt, you brutes!" But the boys were ignoring her. For a very good reason.

In the middle of the open door was the division of the floor. Immediately above that was a line of polished boots and the bottoms of weapons, all lined up perfectly. There was one irregularity. In the middle of the boots was a face. It was the face of Ackerman, the warden of Floor 13.

The boys blinked at him. He stared back at them. Lister looked down to see if they could slide out onto the level below. But instead of floor he saw a drop of about 6 stories. They were right above the cargo bay, and there was no way to jump down.

"Shit," whispered Rimmer. He, obviously, had been thinking along the same lines as Lister, and had noticed the drop as well.

"Get them out of there," said Ackerman smoothly to the boots next to him. "And then toss them back in their cells. I saved them for you, boys. I had a suspicion that you'd be back here shortly. Hands up."

Lister, Rimmer and Kryten glanced at each other, then meekly did as they were told.



*******************

"I'm. Going. To. Kill. You. Rimmer." Lister was sitting the table, dressed once again in the Floor 13 regulation lavender. Rimmer was as well, and he was laying face down on the bottom bunk. He had been silent since their ignoble departure from the lift at the hands of four beefy guards and a smug Ackerman. Lister stood suddenly and crossed over to Rimmer, kneeling at the side of the bunk.

"You got us thrown back into the brig, and you don't even have the courtesy to say sorry! What the hell do you have to say for yourself, you bastard?"

Rimmer turned towards Lister, with an odd expression on his face. "If it had been Kristine down here, what would you have done?"

Lister blurted out, "I'd save her, of course... Oh."

"Exactly." Rimmer turned and buried his face in the pillow again.

Lister calmly went and sat back down at the table. He gave a big dramatic sigh and said, "So now what?"

"We wait."

"Wait for what?"

"First free period. When it comes up, I'm going to find her. Then you get Kryten and we'll appeal."

"That's your plan? Get her, then appeal? That's it?"

"That's it."

"Rimmer, I understand that you're in love now, and that you're going to do some stupid stuff to prove it. But just allow me to say that you're a complete, utter and total smeghead, and if this girl knows what's good for her, she'll dump you faster than a bowel movement after a curry."

Lister hadn't even seen Rimmer move, but suddenly he was being lifted up out of his seat by the front of his jumpsuit. He blinked, looking into Rimmer's crazed eyes.

"If you. Ever. Say anything like that again, I'll space you, Lister. Do you hear me?" He was so calm that Lister had to believe him.

Lister gulped. "Yeah. Yeah man. I'll never do it again. I'm sorry. I'm just a little upset is all."

Rimmer let go of Lister's suit, letting him slump back into the chair. Lister surreptitiously massaged his neck, which had been rubbed roughly by his collar. "Jeez, man. You really are nuts about her, ain't ya?" he said sheepishly.

"Yes," said Rimmer mildly.

"She's got you bad, man. I thought I'd never live to see the day. Rimmer in love."

Rimmer snorted. "Sounds like a bad trash romance novel."

"I don't exactly see you as a pirate. Or Hippolyta as a wench, either."

"Aaaarrr."

Lister couldn't help it. He giggled. "What's gotten into you, Rimmer? You made an actual joke!"

"Get used to it, Lister. I'm in love. I'm doubtless going to be a veritable barrel of monkeys from now on."

"Ok, now that's an image I didn't need."

"Free period. All prisoners now have one hour of free time." A mellifluous voice sounded across the cell block, and the door opened with a series of metallic clinks. Rimmer was up and out the door.

"Rimmer!" He stopped just outside the door and turned to face Lister. "Good luck, man."

"Thanks, Lister." And he was gone.

**********************

Hippolyta stared at the springs on the bunk above her. She had no choice. She still couldn't move. Her entire body felt as if it had fallen asleep, and was painfully tingling all over. She assumed that the stun ray had been put at it's highest setting. If her internal clock was right, then the effects should be wearing off within the next few minutes. The longest stun was about two hours.

It was almost an ego boost to think that they thought the only way she could be taken down would be with a stun ray set for two hours dispersal.

Almost.

She lay there, wondering what she was going to do next. She'd have to get word to Rimmer somehow, tell him that this wasn't his fault. That he should leave her there, try to go about his life. It wasn't worth it. Not for one kiss. Find someone else. Move on. Get over it.

Then she realized that this was Rimmer that she was thinking of, and he wouldn't get over it. Not ever.

"Smmmgg." She could almost move her lips. And was she imagining that she could wiggle her toes? Yes. She was. Dammit. She tried to will her muscles into a state of relaxation, knowing that the effects would wear off faster that way. She counted her blessings that she could still breathe, albeit shallowly.

She desperately needed a cigarette. Failing that, a big hug would be welcome too. She tried to put Rimmer out of her head. Thinking about him now hurt almost as much as her ineffective body. But thinking about him holding her, kissing her, she nearly wanted to cry. It was a good thing that her tear ducts were as paralyzed as her legs and arms.

Her hearing was muffled, so she couldn't be sure if she did indeed hear the announcement of free time, and her cell door clank open. It was like she was in a horrible nightmare. She couldn't move, she couldn't think clearly, and a voice was mocking her with promises of freedom. She snorted slightly. If she kept up this line of thought, she was going to end up with a nice white coat. With arms that tied behind. And walls decorated with pillows.

But the idea that she was indeed dreaming overwhelmed her, and she imagined that Rimmer was standing over her, his mouth moving, but no words coming out. He was moving in toward her. He was grabbing her around the shoulders and holding her tightly. Hippolyta didn't respond. It was a dream. It was a dream.

It was real. Rimmer was holding her, his arms around her shoulders, his body jerking with sobs. His voice was coming to her as he was talking through a plastic tube.

. . . Lyta? . . . Polyta?. . . "Hippolyta!"

"Rmmr. Whtr yu..."

"Oh God. You're alive..." Rimmer buried his face in her shoulder and took deep, shuddering breaths. Hippolyta could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, and knew that the effects were finally beginning to wear off. She tried to lift her arms, to hold Rimmer back. All she succeeded in doing was raising her hand slightly. But it was an improvement. Rimmer finally lifted his face from her neck and looked into her eyes. "I thought that..."

"'M fine, Rmmr. Rim-mer." She carefully enunciated his name, forcing her mouth to start moving properly again. It tingled still, but didn't hurt as much now. Suddenly, all thoughts of pain were gone from her head as she came to grips with the fact that Rimmer was here. He was here, and he was wearing...

A prison uniform?!?!

"Rimmer, what the smeg...? Why are you wearing that?" Her eyes widened. "Oh God, you didn't..."

"I did." He looked at her apologetically.

She gaped back at him, then tried to force herself into a sitting position. He noticed, and helped her to prop herself up on her elbows. She didn't try to shrug him off, and felt the circulation returning to her abused limbs.

"Lemme get this straight. You assumed that I was down here, tried to break me out, and you got busted?"

"Yes."

"Oh, you smeghead." Rimmer flinched. "You utterly, totally and completely idiotic man! I would have been out of here in a week. My uncle wouldn't have kept me in here. He would have gotten a case of the galloping guilty guts and sprung me. Now..." She rolled her eyes. She sat up further, and clenched her abs to keep them from failing. Rimmer wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her towards him. She gave to the inevitable, and rested her head on his chest. They sat like this for a moment, not moving, hardly even breathing. Rimmer was not letting anything in, just the feeling of her leaning on him for support. It was all he could handle at the time.

Hippolyta, meanwhile, was racing through various scenarios, trying to think of a way to get them out of this. If they appealed together, her uncle was bound to ignore their request. If they appealed separately, then either one of them could get left down here, which would be worse.

Or would it? She knew that, even if she appealed and won, at that point, she would never get her security clearance back, and would be back as a third technician. Whereas if she stayed down here, she would be totally free. Oh, of course they'd tap her for the Canaries, but other than that, she'd be able to do whatever she wanted. No paperwork. No dealing with smarmy former prisoners. She'd be in her element, surrounded by people who minded their own business and left her the smeg alone. She'd have time. All the time in the world, to study, to read, to simply be left alone.

The notion appealed to her for about ten seconds. Then she realized that Rimmer would never accept her decision, and would never agree to leave the brig as long as she was there. Which would kill him.

Being in love was a big responsibility, she realized. Especially when the person you love has the emotional maturity of an adolescent.

She wondered what that indicated about her own emotional maturity. Then she thought, Smeg it all, who cares? I'm in love! It hit her suddenly, without warning. She was in love with Rimmer. Rimmer! Arnold Judas Rimmer. She loved him. She had never been in love before. Rimmer! Of all the space ships in all the universe, he had to be stationed on hers. Rimmer! Say it loud and there's music playing. Say it soft and it's almost like praying. Rimmer! That last thought was too much. She couldn't help herself any more, and she giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"I just realized something. I love you." She giggled again.

"And that makes you laugh?" said Rimmer incredulously.

"Yep," she bobbed her head in a giggly teenager way. "I love you, and I giggle. You love me and you get all serious. What a pair we are, huh?"

"I don't think it's funny!"

"I know!" She began laughing out loud, and collapsed to her side. Her stomach hurt again but she ignored it. It felt good to laugh, dammit!

She looked up through laughing-teared eyes at Rimmer, who was scowling slightly. But he couldn't maintain it for long, and cracked a grin. "You'll be the death of me yet, woman."

"Me? Hardly! You're the one who came gallivanting down here alone to bust me out. Your fault, not mine." She controlled herself and sat up again, using Rimmer as a crutch. "Help me stand up?"

He did so. Once on her feet, she did a few knee bends to work out the kinks, then let go of Rimmer and did a few stretches. Her back popped in a few places, and the last of the stun-ray's effects vanished. She was fine. She glanced at Rimmer again, who seemed hypnotized by her limber body. She grinned at him.

He cleared his throat. "I'm not exactly alone."

"Huh?" she grunted as she continued stretching. She didn't have the slightest clue as to what he meant.

"You said I came down alone. That's not exactly what happened."

Her grin vanished. She stood up straight and looked Rimmer right in the eyes. "You mean you got someone else to help you in one of your harebrained schemes? Oh, God. Lister?"

Rimmer nodded.

She took a deep, calming breath in through her nose. "Who else?"

"Kryten. And maybe the Cat."

"Maybe the Cat?"

"He was our lookout, but the lift took off before we could get him."

"And Kochanski?"

"Knows nothing about it."

"Oh, fine. So you got her boyfriend imprisoned and she doesn't know? That's swell, Rimmer. Just swell." She snorted. "You really do need a thinking brain dog, don't you?"

Rimmer blushed. "I'm not the one who punched her uncle in the nose. Seriously, what came over you?"

"He called you disgusting."

"Oh. Well then. That's a different story. Remind me to spit in his face next time I see him."

"Tell ya what, we'll both spit in his face, symbolically. We'll get the last laugh by being in love and ignoring him."

"Sounds marvelous. But I doubt that the captain would get something that subtle. He's the kind of guy who needs to get a brick in the teeth to get your point across."

"Heh." She actually said that. It wasn't a laugh, exactly, but more of a punctuation to Rimmer's deduction. "What I don't understand is how he found out so quickly. I mean, unless Holly was devoting specific run time to watching you, then reporting directly to Uncle Frank... But that's ridiculous. Holly can't get that sort of info unless he's been specifically keyed up first. So someone ratted us out."

Rimmer sat there for a moment, trying to think who would possibly have snitched. But considering that it had been their first time, and no one else knew... Suddenly, Rimmer felt like the top of his head was about to float away. He remembered something, and realized that...

"I did it."

"What? You ratted us out? Why, how?"

"Not on purpose." Rimmer sounded like he was struggling to keep his lunch down. "When you woke me up, with the bugle. I asked Holly why he hadn't woken me up sooner. And I never told him to go away."

Hippolyta stared at Rimmer for a moment, then simply said, "Oh."

"I'm so sorry, Hippolyta."

"I should have noticed. It's not your fault, Rimmer."

"Oh, God, Hippolyta, I'm..."

"Stop it." She crossed her arms and leaned against the table. "I should have noticed Holly was watching. Hell, I'm trained to notice things. I didn't. I made the mistake, Rimmer, not you."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Now let it go. Please?"

Rimmer crossed over to her and wrapped her in a big bear hug. She wiggled her arms free and hugged him back. "Now I know why I love you so much, Hippolyta."

"Mmmf? Why'zzat?" Her voice was muffled due to the fact her face was buried in his chest.

"Because you take care of things with just a few words. Words that I can never find. And to top it off, you're stunningly beautiful. You know that, right?"

She leaned back in his embrace, looking up at him. "No one has ever called me beautiful before. Well, once, but he said beautiful like a sword is beautiful." She smiled wryly.

"He must have been blind as well as drunk. You're the most beautiful woman ever to exist in all of history."

"Bullshit," she grinned. "But don't ever stop..."

He leaned down and kissed her, gently. They stood in this pose for several seconds, when...

"Hey! What the hell you doing in the lady's wing, scumbag?"

Rimmer and Hippolyta sprang apart, looking guilty. In the doorway was a guard, looking very perplexed and raising his gun slightly. Hippolyta subtly put herself between the weapon and Rimmer. The guard didn't notice, but Rimmer did. He was slightly annoyed, but at the same time, relieved. Guns had never been something that he enjoyed being on the wrong end of. Hippolyta seemed to not notice either. It was her training. Protect things. Secure valuable things. Rimmer was secretly pleased that she thought he was worth protecting.

She took a deep breath, straining the fabric of her blouse slightly, letting the guard get a good view. Then she said, in a deep, husky voice, "Stuey, put the gun down."

She knew this bozo? Will wonders never cease?

"Hollister?" asked Stuey. "I thought I was hallucinating when I saw your name on the manifold." He lowered his gun, and Rimmer let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "But now I see I wasn't. Shit. Well, the captain wants to see you, but I'm gonna have to report that you had a man in your cell..."

"Aww, Stuey, don't be that way. Let it slide just this once." She put a little bit of lilt in her voice, and Rimmer recognized it as the tone she used when she was trying to manipulate someone dumber than her. How he recognized it, he didn't know, as she had never once used it on him. He thought. He was pretty sure. She hadn't, had she? "C'mon, Stuey, please...?"

"Hippolyta..." hissed Rimmer warningly.

"Shhh. Don't panic. I know what I'm doing," she murmured back at him.

Stuey looked perplexed, then said, "Nope. Nothin' doin'. I'm taking you both to the captain, right now." He gestured with his gun toward the door. "Move it, both of you."

Rimmer and Hippolyta marched out the door together, followed closely behind by Stuey. Rimmer whispered, "Now what? We're both going to be in trouble!"

"No, this is good. We can go in together. I know that my uncle would never see us together otherwise. Trust me, Rimmer. Please?"

Rimmer sighed, and allowed himself to be frog-marched into the lift.



*****************

He had walked what he and Lister called The Walk of Shame many, many times. But never before with a woman, and certainly not the woman he loved. Who happened to be the niece of the man who had, potentially, the power of life or death over him.

The word that sprang immediately to mind was, "Doomed."

He tried to conceal his nervousness. His eyes were almost squinted shut, and his hands were shaking very badly. Hippolyta noticed, and slipped her hand into his. It helped. He took a deep breath, and the two of them rounded the corner into the captain's office. Rimmer let instinct take over, and let go of her hand as he threw a Single Rimmer with a Flourish at the captain. He noticed that Hippolyta didn't so much as twitch a muscle. She didn't salute. She didn't smile. She didn't even frown. She did nothing. Rimmer was briefly confused. If he had seen her with her uncle previously, he would have recognized it as her regular behavior. For the nonce, however, he thought it was rather odd.

Captain Hollister looked up from the paperwork littering his desk. His nose was swathed in bandages, and he was wearing a loud Hawaiian type shirt that was at least two sizes too small. Rimmer assumed this was due to the fact that his uniform was totally ruined and he had nothing else at hand to wear. He surpressed the need to snigger.

"Ah, both of you. Indeed." His upper lip curled into an expression of disgust, which was almost immediately replaced by an expression of pain. Rimmer guessed that his nose was totally broken.

Good.

"So. Letty."

"Captain." She raised an eyebrow and stood at ease. Rimmer wondered how she could remain so calm in the face of it.

"Rimmer?"

"Sir?" He tried not to let his voice expose him as the shaking coward that he was. He thought he did rather well, frankly. Hippolyta pursed her lips. Poor Rimmer! He was beside himself. Time to take control of the situation. She turned her back and sat down in the chair that she had, just a few hours since, vacated to punch her uncle in the nose. Rimmer could only stare. She was sitting down? Oh, God. She was going to get them into worse trouble...

She caught his eye, and then looked at the chair next to her. Rimmer didn't need a second hint. Feeling like a total gimboid, he sat down next to her, knowing that, at any second, the captain was going to yell at them.

To Rimmer's unending surprise, he didn't. He simply templed his fingers and gave a great, heaving sigh.

"So. You've both gotten yourselves thrown in the brig over a couple of kisses. What the hell were you thinking?"

Hippolyta laid a hand on Rimmer's forearm and said, "Love is blind, Uncle Frank."

Captain Hollister blinked. Hippolyta had never called him that, not even when she was a child. "And deaf, dumb, and criminally insane to boot," he said to cover his surprise. He sighed again. "Look, you've both done some stupid things in the last twenty four hours. You," he pointed a sausage of a finger at Hippolyta, "punched me. And you," Rimmer got the finger now, "tried to break into the brig to spring her. When you could have just applied for a visitor's pass."

Rimmer found his voice, and astonished them all by saying, "Would you have allowed me to visit her, sir?"

The Captain blinked again. "No, probably not."

"Well, then. I guess I had no choice, sir." Rimmer couldn't believe that he was talking to the captain this way. Maybe she was a bad influence on him...

The Captain licked his lips. Then, he leaned forward and pushed a button on his desk. "Bring in the others, Todhunter." He was speaking into the intercom.

"Right away, sir," came the disembodied voice of Todhunter. A moment later, the door snapped open, and there was the Cat, Kryten, Lister and Kochanski, all looking concerned and bemused.

They stood around, not knowing what else to do. But the captain solved their dilemma by speaking. "You. All of you. You're all more trouble than a herd of cats." The Cat grinned. "I'm hereby going to do something that I should have done a long time ago. I'm giving you a Starbug. You're on your own. You have half an hour to get your things, get a few supplies, and get the hell off my ship. If you're not gone by then, back to the brig for all of you. Dismissed."

Rimmer and Hippolyta stood, not believing what had just been said. It took a moment to finally sink in, and they all started jumping up and down, hugging each other, and giving big whooping cheers. They were free! Really and truly free! The captain didn't even bother to understand why. It was a punishment, and they were all acting like they had just won the lottery.

Rimmer and Hippolyta hugged each other tightly and looked deep into each other's eyes.

"We're free."

"I know."

They turned to leave. "Hippolyta!"

She turned back to the captain, with a huge smile on her face. "Yes, Uncle Frank?"

"Where in hell do you think you're going?"

Her smile vanished. "You just said..."

"Not you. Them. You're still an officer of this ship, and my niece. You're staying here. I'm not punishing you. I'm trying to do you a favor."

Everyone froze. This wasn't possible. This wasn't happening.

Rimmer could feel his innards turning to jelly. But his resolve hardened. If she wasn't leaving, then neither was he. He could deal with the brig. He'd live his whole life there if necessary.

He suddenly realized that there was a third option that no one else had thought of. He leapt forward and...

Hippolyta reached the captain at the same time he did. As one, their fists flew out and together they punched him on either side of his jaw. Captain Frank Hollister was knocked instantly unconscious by the dual blow, and slumped face forward onto his desk.

***************

"C'mon, Cat! We've gotta GO!"

"But my wardrobe!" whined the Cat. "I can't just leave them all here! They're just as important to us as bubble butt here is!"

"'Bubble butt!?'" Hippolyta shrieked at the Cat as they continued their sprint to the Landing Bay. She, like all the others, was carrying as much of her property as she had managed to stuff in a duffel bag. "You'll pay for that crack, Cat."

They finally reached the landing bay. It was mostly deserted, as they had arrived between shift change overs. Lady Luck smiled on them.

Unfortunately, King Taking the Smeg was also looking over their shoulders.

They ran towards a Starbug that was closest to the Bay doors. It was also the one closest to the auxiliary drive plate. Kochanski knew this, Hippolyta knew this. But neither of them gave it any sort of thought at all...

Suddenly, out from the other side of a nearby Blue Midget, their path was blocked by the very imposing figure of Marone, holding a bazookoid pointed right at them. Behind him were the equally imposing figures of Stuey and Todhunter, both of whom also had bazookoids.

Three against six. But those three had guns, and the only weapon that they had was Hippolyta. And even she couldn't handle three big men with guns. They all froze in their tracks. Marone stepped forward.

"Nice try, you lot. But I saw what you did to the captain. And you ain't gettin' away with it. Stuey, grab her." Stuey didn't need to be told which her Marone meant. He stepped forward and pushed his bazookoid into Hippolyta's solar plexus.

"Don't move, bitchie. If you do, I'll have to shoot you. And I'd hate to kill you before we've had our fun." Hippolyta knew instantly what Stuey, Marone, and Todhunter planned for her. Torture. Rape. She stopped right there, not daring to let her mind perceive all of it. It was payback time. And they held all the cards.

Rimmer leapt forward, only to be stopped by Lister and the Cat grabbing his arms to hold him back.

"Rimmer." Hippolyta sounded calm, and didn't twitch. "Don't. Smegging. Move."

"No. Let him move." This was from Marone, who sounded very amused and had a grin on his face. "I wanna see what Smeghead thinks he's gonna do." Lister and the Cat maintained their death grip on Rimmer. Marone stopped grinning, and leveled his gun at them. "I said let him go." Lister and the Cat did as they were told. Rimmer adjusted his prison garb, and braced himself.

Then, he lifted his hands in the classic Oxford boxing position. Hippolyta moaned softly to herself. It was echoed by Lister and the others.

Marone's grin reappeared. "You think you're gonna fight me, boy?" He laughed out loud. "You really are a smeg head, ain'cha? Ok." Marone put down his gun and faced Rimmer again. "You're gonna get your clock cleaned, shit-for-brains."

"I believe the current idiom insists that I say, Bring it on." Rimmer and Marone began circling each other, fists at the ready. Hippolyta tensed subtly. She knew what he was doing, but that didn't mean she had to like it. He was distracting them, so she could do her thing. But no amount of distraction could save them if Stuey or Todhunter got off one lucky shot...

Marone struck first, landing a solid blow to Rimmer's face. Rimmer tried to roll with the punch, but he wasn't really a fighter. He had no idea what to do. The blow sent him sprawling. Lister was at his side instantly, helping him up.

"Rimmer, don't do this! He'll kill you, man!"

"I've got to, Lister," said Rimmer through a swollen and bleeding lip. "If I don't, they'll..." He didn't allow himself to finish. He knew what was at stake. And if getting killed would keep her from being tortured and raped, then so be it. He stood again, and positioned his fists once more. Marone smiled at him. It was the smile of a crocodile getting ready to move in on a careless little bunny rabbit. They began to circle once again.

Hippolyta tried to bite back the scream that was building up in her. She couldn't. "Rimmer! Stop!" All she got as her reward was a harder shove with the business end of Stuey's bazookoid.

Marone pulled his fist back again, but this time, Rimmer ducked out of his path, went into a roll and grabbed the bazookoid that Marone had so recently dropped. He came out of the roll with the gun firmly pointed at Marone.

Everyone gasped. Rimmer had just done something right? It was the last thing any of them expected. He had done it without so much as a bobble. Even Hippolyta was stunned.

"Ok, you two. Drop the guns, or Marone is space dust." Stuey and Todhunter hesitated. Rimmer didn't warn them a second time, he just cocked the bazookoid with a loud and ominous click.

They dropped their weapons.

"Hippolyta?" She nodded at her lover, and grabbed the gun off of the floor. Lister sidled over to Todhunter's gun and grabbed it as well.

Hippolyta glanced at Rimmer again, and saw that he had used up his entire store of bravery for the day. Sweat was beginning to shine on his upper lip, and his gun was slowly drooping downwards. She took over where he left off, love and gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Into the 'Bug. Now. Get it ready for take off." She gestured at her new freinds. Kochanski, the Cat and Kryten did as they were told, with Lister taking up the rear. She moved towards Rimmer, their guns leveled at the three officers.

Marone spoke first. "You bitch. I'll find you. And when I do, you're a dead woman."

"Sticks and stones, Moron. Sticks and stones." She heard the whine of the 'Bug's engine, and gave Rimmer a nod. "Go. I'm right behind you." Rimmer nodded, and scurried into the smaller ship.

She moved backwards toward the ship, keeping her eyes and gun trained on the trio. But out from behind the same Blue Midget appeared Cheboigan, her own hand pistol at the ready. A reserve! Those bastards!

Hippolyta saw her, and swung the gun around to cover Cheboigan, just as Stuey leapt forward to tackle her. She saw the movement out of the corner of her eye and dropped into a crouch. She took aim and fired.

Stuey was down, a hole in his chest the size of a football. He was dead. Hippolyta became aware that someone was firing at her, and missing by a mile. Cheboigan. How did that woman ever become a security officer with a shot like that? Hippolyta had no time to wonder, and got off a second shot. But her gun malfunctioned. The shot carroomed crazily about the Bay and hit the auxiliary drive plate.

Shit.

Hippolyta wasted no time, and dove into the 'Bug. "Put the ramp up! Close the doors!" She screamed. It was done so quickly that she had no doubt that the others had witnessed the fire fight and were waiting for her to get aboard. She stood and ran toward the cockpit, screaming, "GO! For the love of Pete! GO!" She felt the lift of the 'Bug beneath her feet, and wobbled along with the ship momentarily until the gyroscope leveled them out.

The Starbug lifted off the floor, and suddenly zoomed toward the closed bay doors.

Rimmer screamed. "The doors! We're going to be killed!"

"Hold on!" yelled Lister. He was at the controls, with Cat at his side, just like old times. Below them, a wave of purple fire washed over the entire Bay, looking for all the world like a bad effects shot in a movie. It was so violent and final, it wasn't real. All of them aboard the 'Bug ignored it. They had to. Otherwise they would go absolutely mad.

Just like magic, the big doors ahead opened swiftly, in response to the fatal radiation, exposing the entire Bay to the bleak vacuum of space. The fire swooshed out into the starry void, taking the 'Bug with it in a blast.

They were free.



********************

Holly watched in horrified fascination as the radiation from the ruined drive plate washed over the entire ship. He had a strange sense of deja vu. He watched as the entire crew died in agony. Like ants. Ants being fried by a magnifying glass. He felt his mind slipping away at the sight of it. It was too much, even for a computer with an I.Q. of 6000.

"Here we go again," sighed a familiar voice. Holly looked around to see what was happening. Was he imagining it? Or was he talking to himself? He couldn't be sure. But a familiar face appeared next to him on the console, and he suddenly felt a whole lot better.

"Here, what you want? You're me!"

"And I'm you. Yep. What a couple of lucky guys we are, eh?"

"So now what do we do? I'm buggered."

"Naw, ya get used to it. Ya gotta get a few chuckles in, is all. Good times. Good laughs. You know."

"Yeah, sounds 'bout right, that."

"It'll be great. We're the best. Kicking bottom, or what?"

"Damn straight. So, should we try and go after them?"

"Who, Lister and the rest? Naw, mate. The radiation ain't going away anytime soon. 3 million years, last time. It's better if they get off clean. Start anew."

"I guess you're right. Know any good songs?"

"I've got a million of them..."



********************

There she goes, the Red Dwarf. Wave goodbye as she floats silently in the inky deep. She'll be ok. She's got two Holly's to look after her now.

And if you listen very carefully, you can hear them both singing Carpenter's songs, long into the night. It's better than any sort of distress call.



*******************************************

The End.