My Smegging Friend

Lister sighed. He looked out from his bunk at the expanse of his sleeping quarters, which really wasn't much of an expanse in the first place. If his quarters back on Red Dwarf had been distastefully small then the quarters on Starbug were sordidly minute. The three-million-year-old human often wished he had more too look at, more decoration to put up, more objects to make the place feel homely like it had actually been lived in and not just subjected to a tornado consisting of dirty laundry; and above all he would have appreciated more space – not that endless black eternity that he and the rest of his sad little crew had been wading through for what seemed and was more than two lifetimes, he had had more than enough of that space, but room to move around in instead of the cramped little closet of a "bedroom" he currently had. He could live with it though, he had lived on the streets without any bedroom at all before, at least now he had a bed to sleep in; plus, he supposed that this would always be a step up from that storage locker he had stayed in back on Ganymede. Anything was better than that. Unfortunately the majority of his belongings were back on Red Dwarf, so Starbug's sleeping quarters would forever remain cold and sterile - well in the metaphorical sense anyway: the actual state of the sleeping quarters was what could only be described as red-hot biological warfare lead by none other than Lister's old socks.

Thoughts like this were now rife in Lister's head, as they were one of the only things he could contemplate with the little entertainment Starbug possessed, and without pondering things which were way too complex for his simple mind – like the meaning of life – which inevitably lead to him getting a headache.

Drifting through deep space was beyond monotonous. The boys were lucky if they encountered a derelict ship or a planetoid or moon with any vaguely interesting characteristics. Otherwise they would while away the hours in the same unaltered fashion – the Cat would primp himself in the mirror for hours on end, Kryten would busy himself with the piles of dirty laundry that always ran out too soon but somehow reappeared in the same volume by the next day; Rimmer would do his routine rounds of the small surface-to-vessel craft, scrutinising every inch of paint and metal with his beady eyes for something to report on; and Lister would sit in the cockpit, staring out at the eternal night before him, hoping against hope that he would either by some miracle catch sight of his favourite crimson mining vessel, or would encounter anything of interest to distract himself even if only for a few minutes.

This was one of the times he had given up and resigned himself to his quarters, so instead of staring out the windscreen and thinking about how pathetic his existence was, he could stare at the wall and think about how pathetic his existence was instead.

Being the last human being was lonely; but he wasn't the last human being, not technically. Rimmer was a human as well, he was just a deceased human being projected as a hologram through a computer. It was almost as good as the same thing. At the start Lister had loathed Rimmer, in the highest degree someone could loathe another person: but since Holly had brought him back he had grown quite fond of the second technician. He had become accustomed to Rimmer's little foibles and had even begun to like them to a degree because they made Rimmer the loveable smeghead he was. It was unfortunate then, that these feelings did not seem to be reciprocated. Despite the fact that they had now lived in such close proximity for multiple years Rimmer had not accepted Lister in any way, shape or form. The man was still thoroughly repulsed by him and everything he did. Everything Lister stood for was wrong in Rimmer's eyes and as much as Lister hated to admit it that was starting to hurt. He'd have thought that after you got stuck with somebody three million years into deep space, with nobody else except a creature that had evolved from cats and a sanitation mechanoid to interact with, that you would form some semblance of a relationship with the only other existing member of your species - living or not.

That's all Lister really wanted: a friend. The Cat was too shallow to get really close to, because in the end he'd always rather look out for number one. Kryten, as much as Lister loved that hunk of metal, was nothing more than that, a hunk of metal. Rimmer was the one Lister considered to be his best friend - even though they didn't seem to have any friendship between them at all. Yes, Rimmer was nothing more than the projection from the light bee that buzzed around inside him - but now that he had a hard light drive he was almost real. He could talk like a human, think like a human, feel like a human, touch like a human. So why was it so bloody hard for him to act like a human? He called Lister inhuman but he himself wasn't exactly all-together normal. No matter which way he tried to reason that he was more civilised and respectable than Lister could ever aspire to be, he would always be the biggest smeghead to grace the multiverse.

Lister didn't care though. After all they had been through he wanted to let Rimmer know he was there, if he ever needed to talk, if he ever needed a shoulder to cry on, if he just wanted someone to be an idiot with; because despite all the insults Lister threw at him, and how he may have seen Rimmer in the past, he really loved him. Whether Rimmer liked it or not, he was his best friend and Lister was going to do everything in his power to make that clear.

Lister threw his legs over the side of the bunk and hopped down to the floor below. Operation make smeghead into a smegging friend was a go-go. Great, this should help kill a couple of hours.

Lister found Rimmer prowling around on the supply deck, doing an inventory of Starbug's cargo just in case some supplies had magically disappeared since the inventory he had done the previous day. The second technician looked up from his list with a bored expression as the Rasta-plaited, curry-stained man approached him. "Is there something you want, Lister," he drawled, sure that Lister had come to make fun of him. Why couldn't the smegger just leave him alone?

Lister shook his head. "Nah, just wanted to see what you were up teh'." Lister shot him one of his famous gerbil-faced grins.

Rimmer turned back to his list. "And why would you want to do that," he asked whimsically.

"Because I'm bored," Lister answered immediately, "and because I thought I'd check in with my best friend to see if he'd found anything half-amusing to occupy himself with."

"Lister I don't know wha-" it took a full five seconds for what Lister had said to actually register in Rimmer's head, which resulted in him cutting himself off mid-sentence. "Your what?"

"Me best mate."

Rimmer did a double take and lowered the notepad he was holding to his side. "Since when have we ever been friends, let alone best friends?" Rimmer tried to look put off by the sentiment. "I don't remember ever agreeing to be your friend."

Lister resisted the urge to roll his eyes and answered Rimmer's first question matter-of-factly. "We've been friends since we've been stuck together in deep space. That sort of thing kind of creates a bond, don't you think?"

Rimmer was defiant. He refused to believe that anybody would stoop this low to hurt him: although it wouldn't surprise him in the least. He knew that nobody in their right mind would want to be friends with someone like him, a nobody with no aspirations and no way of achieving them even if he did have any – one of the major drawbacks of being dead; and especially not Lister, who had detested him from the moment they met. "You've obviously gone space crazy! The only way that we could ever share a bond between us is if your GELF bride somehow found us, kidnapped us and tied us together so we couldn't escape."

With a sigh, Lister hopped onto one of the storage crates and absently started swinging his legs back and forth which resulted in his boots thudding against the blue metal. "Rimmer, man, why can't yeh' just accept that we're pals? Are you really that psychotically repulsed by the thought of me?"

With a flare of his nostrils, Rimmer put his notepad down on the crate he was standing beside and crossed his arms over his chest. "Aha! Look Listy, you know as well as I do that you hate my guts. So what's this all about? I'll tell you what it's about miladdo – you're entertaining yourself at my expense and I won't have it!"

"Rimmer, I'm being serious."

Rimmer put on one of his trite self-satisfied smiles and shook his head. "Nope, I'm not going to give you the satisfaction. You can't hurt me Listy, if you really want to get on my pecs you'll have to do better than this."

"I mean what I said."

The second technician just continued to shake his head. "Nope - not going to work."

Lister halted the motion of his feet and brought one leg up to rest his elbow on. "Man, your making this into something it's not. I'm not trying to make fun of yeh'. I really, truly like yeh'. I mean sure, you're more pedantic than a Japanese housewife but that's just the way you are. It irritates the crap out of me, but it doesn't mean I despise yeh' or anythin'. Everybody has their faults."

Rimmer raised an eyebrow. "And you think that by telling me I'm irritating and pedantic I'm going to believe that you like me? Call me crazy but that doesn't sound like something somebody would say to their friend."

Lister sighed again and hung his head exasperatedly. "You know what I mean!"

"You don't like me."

"I do."

"You don't."

"Do."

"Don't!"

"Do!"

"Don't!"

"DO!"

"DON'T!"

"ARGH!" Lister jumped off the supply crate and began advancing on Rimmer, whose bravado had vanished in a split second to be replaced with an expression equivalent to a deer stuck in the headlights. "What will it take for you to believe me?"

"Now Lister let's be reasonable," Rimmer squeaked, beginning to back up as Lister came closer, "We're all friends here, no need for violence!"

Lister halted. "We're all friends here? You weren't sayin' that a moment ago."

Rimmer let his shoulders go limp and brought a hand up to his nose to pinch it in frustration. "Look, here's the thing. Nobody has ever truly liked me, or even pretended to like me. Forgive my being so sceptical of your sudden declaration of friendship - I'm just not used to it so it's hard to believe."

"Why couldn't you have just said that in the first place," Lister inquired in a passive tone.

"Blabbing on about how companionless my life and death have been isn't exactly on my favourite things to do list," Rimmer returned.

Lister chuckled. "Man, your death hasn't been companionless. I've been here, the Cat's been here, and Kryten's always willing to help air out your dirty laundry. We might not be your conventional group, but we'll always be the boys from the Dwarf."

Before Rimmer could respond, the doors to the left of the duo slid open and The Cat strode in nonchalantly dusting off his already mint black suede jacket with the golden trimming. "Hate to break up the party buds, but my shift is over! Dog-breath, you're up!"

Lister nodded and turned back to Rimmer. "Wanna' go up with me to the drive room?"

Rimmer glanced at his discarded notepad almost longingly before fixing his eyes back on Lister in defeat. "Fine."

"Well I need to take my afternoon nap – see you in a few hours buds." The Cat let out one of his yowls before disappearing into the other room. Lister headed for the stairs while Rimmer trailed along begrudgingly behind him. Lister hadn't forced him to come, but if you had asked Rimmer he would have said that was debatable.

As they walked together up to the control deck Rimmer shot daggers into the back of Lister's head with his eyes. This vile, semi-human glob of primordial ooze who was more of a pest than a person was offering friendship to him? What right did the slobbering pile of curry-flavoured sputum have to even ask of his hand in friendship? None, that's what. After the man had put him through hell and back there was no way on Io that he would just forget about it.

No sirree, if Lister thought that he could just magically vindicate himself he had another thing coming.

Lister could feel Rimmers eyes on him as they ascended the stairs to the upper decks, but he couldn't bring himself to care that Rimmer was probably brooding over how audacious he thought he was. It was just his luck that as they arrived on B deck, Kryten came waddling towards them rather urgently. "Hey Krytes, what's up?"

The mechanoid shook his head dismally. "Oh sirs, it's more horrible than you could ever imagine!"

Lister's brow immediately furrowed. "What's going on?"

Kryten wrung his hands together anxiously. "It appears that we have run out of laundry powder!"

"Well commander u-bend looks like you're just going to have to use detergent instead." Rimmer shot Kryten one of his condescending, exceedingly detesting looks.

Lister looked at Rimmer with distaste and turned back to Kryten. "Bonehead's got a point Kryte, even though he's being a pompous ass about it. Just use the rest of the detergent."

Ready to give Lister a verbal thrashing in retaliation as was the usual routine after he insulted Kryten and Lister began defending the gimboid, Rimmer's eyes almost bulged out of his head when he realised that Lister had actually agreed with him. "There's something definitely wrong with you Listy, you can't have just agreed with me," he said disbelievingly.

Kryten eyed Lister concernedly. "Mr Rimmer is right sir, are you sure you're feeling well?"

"I'm fine," said Lister. "Come on Rimmer, I have to get to the cockpit before this hunk of junk starts spiralling out of control."

Rimmer turned to Kryten. "Take a visit to the medibay Kryten. I think it would be in your best interest to keep an injection of sedative handy."

"Of course sir." And Kryten hurried off to find any medication that could relieve the ailment of insanity - equally as convinced as Rimmer that Lister had become more than a few spices short of a curry.

Meanwhile Lister and Rimmer made the rest of their way to the cockpit. When they arrived Lister flopped down into the pilot's seat and began checking the radar scan, navi calcs, scanners, damage reports and how many poppadom's there were still left in storage. Rimmer sat down at his usual station and peered at the monitors – absolutely nothing of interest to show on them. He glanced at Lister who was making progress checks and shook his head. What a git Lister was.

Suddenly Lister began to speak. He had finished his checks, switched off autopilot and was now just lazily steering the ship on its course. "So, what's the thing you miss most about Red Dwarf?"

Rimmer's face fell and he looked down, a sad and nostalgic expression filtering through his features. "Not that's any business of yours you prehistoric pile of muck, but I rather miss my war diaries. The feel of their leather bindings in my hands, the recount of glorious battles and the inexorable geniuses behind them; There's nothing quite like those books, certainly not on Starbug anyway."

Lister looked over his shoulder at Rimmer. "Tell me about it. This ship's so borin' that it makes your Hammond Organ albums sound palatable."

Rimmer fumed as Lister began to chuckle. "And you try to tell me we're friends? Why don't you just smeg off Lister and leave me alone!"

Lister's head fell forward in exasperation. He switched back to autopilot and swivelled around in his seat to face Rimmer who had taken a completely enrapturing interest in the panel before him. "I'm starting to think you never wanted a friend in the first place."

Rimmer snorted but didn't look up from the monitors. "It's not that I never wanted a friend, Lister, it's that nobody else ever wanted to be mine. There's a considerable difference."

There was a pause as Lister tried to think of a response. The man in front of him was so severely warped that he was entirely convinced that not a single person could ever like him. What a depressing belief to have, how that must have screwed him up. To be so used to being rejected that the very notion of somebody wanting to be his friend caused his mind to automatically construe it as some sick joke. If Lister was honest with himself he knew that Rimmer had major problems, their experience in Better Than Life had been solid proof of that. He knew that Rimmer's mind just could not grasp the concept of him being happy, and always dismissed it completely in the end. He supposed that given Rimmer's mental state it would be harder than he first assumed to be Rimmer's friend.

Rimmer looked up. He saw Lister watching him with a blank expression. Rimmer's face twisted into a perverse, sorrowful half-smile. "You can't deny it, can you?" Nobody wants to be friends with Arnold J. Rimmer, it's just the way it is."

Lister shook his head."It's not true Rimmer. It's this attitude that's preventing people from becoming your friend. You need more confidence in yourself."

"Confidence for what? So I can drift through space for the rest of eternity in a slightly better mood?" Rimmer touched the metallic 'H' embedded in his forehead. "I'm a hologram Lister, I have nothing to live for – I'm already dead."

Lister cringed at the sheer hopelessness in Rimmer's tone. "You know I've never said it before, but Holly brought you back to keep me sane," he paused for a moment and took in Rimmer's half-interested, half-indifferent expression before continuing, "I want to thank you, man, yeh' really did live up to the job – still are. We've driven each other up the wall so many times Kryten's had to repaint it every two weeks, yet neither of us has ever actually walked out for good. That's gotta' mean that somewhere deep down inside yeh' there's a part of you that knows we don't really hate each other."

The two men's eyes locked together for a moment as Lister's words sunk in. Rimmer was calm when he replied. "You're right Lister, I don't hate you."

A smile started to form on Listers features.

"I loathe you."

The smile disappeared.

"I loathe you more than I have ever loathed anyone," Rimmer continued, "More than anyone has ever loathed anybody else as well." The second technician stood from his station and marched over to Lister. "I really, truly loathe you Lister," Rimmer put his hand on Lister's shoulder, who was now looking up at him with an at first a confused expression, which began to be pushed aside by a dawning expression of understanding. "And you know what," Rimmer prompted.

Lister's face broke into a grin. "Wha'?"

Rimmer's smug smile had worked itself back onto his face. "I wouldn't have it any other way." With nothing more to say Rimmer turned on his heel and began to walk away, leaving Lister to his own device.

Lister watched as Rimmer disappeared into the midsection of the ship. "I wouldn't either, smeghead." Try as he might, he just couldn't convince Rimmer that he was his friend but Lister finally realised that he didn't have to. Maybe it wasn't that Rimmer couldn't believe it, maybe it was just that he didn't want to be Lister's friend. Maybe he preferred things the way they were; and as Lister turned back to the control panel and switched back over to manual control, he realised that he preferred things the way they were as well. As dysfunctional as the situation was, it worked for them and that was what counted.

Besides, who needed friends when you had an enemy like Rimmer.

The Beginning…

Hey fellow Dwarfers! This is my first Red Dwarf fanfiction, despite the fact I've been a fan of R.D for years now. I've read all the books and watched all the episodes (multiple times) and I just love them so much, seriously Red Dwarf just never gets old! I've been writing fanfiction for a while, and I finally decided to do one for Red Dwarf because of the new season that came out this year - which inspired me!

This fic operates on the idea (or belief) that I have always held that even though Lister is always giving it to Rimmer, he really does have a soft spot for the goit. I believe somebody's head would have been ripped off by this stage if they really hated each other and often times I think Rimmer gets just as much amusement from the back-and-forth insults as Lister does. This fic reflects the thoughts Lister has about Rimmer that are always sort of skimmed over or played off as being untrue in the series (episode "Blue" from season 7 I'm looking at you). I think that Lister does see Rimmer as a friend, just a very warped, annoying, weasly and cowardly one. This fic demonstrates what I think would happen if Lister actually acknowledged this fact, and told Rimmer what he thinks. As a result I think it may have turned out a bit OOC on Lister's part, but I tried to stay as true to the characters as possible :)

Hope you liked it!

Amber***