[Original - original fic] Searching for Gravestones.

Jack Dalliard & Neddy Muldoon. Implied slash between them. R for utterly creepy and death.
Written July 28, 2008 by Zekkass.

---

Jack Dalliard was not cremated. That was a fact that he had long ago found out. (The Assistant's last words. "He'll be hidden, not set to flame." Oddly cryptic, even for him. It all made sense now.)

They had instead put him in a coffin and buried him. Oh, they were not honorable - they had placed a different name on the tombstone, and burned the files that said which graveyard held him.

It was near impossible to find him - especially with his Assistant gone - but he would be found. Somehow. (He had started out with a shovel and records and had gone through graveyard after graveyard, disturbing bodies far too often.)

Of course he had not found him. They had changed the dates, too, and even added a little engraving that said 'Beloved.' (And he was. Just not by them, the ones who had buried him.)

He supposed he should have stopped looking by now - he was older, he knew better. But something compelled him to make the nightly excursions, and to make the daily digging in Records.

(He was respected, now. Worked like his cousin, was independent.)

Records revealed little, until that special, precious day -

"This is it." He said to himself, staring at the file. "This is it."

With trembling hands, he opened the file, and scanned the numbers and columns.

There it was. Hidden, and misfiled - no wonder he hadn't found it, no wonder it wasn't burned. (He wished he had found it years ago.)

J. Dalliard - (his eyes read across the column, ignoring numbers, looking for the name) - Dorian Stonewall.

There it is. The answer. His hands are shaking, he knows he won't have much time left -

He feels like cheering, but doesn't. Instead, he puts the file back, and returns to work after memorizing the cemetery and plot and number and address.

(It is two days before he can get the shovel out, make the trip, successfully dig up the coffin.)

He brought a crowbar for this purpose. He pries out the nails, pulls up the lid - and there.

(There. Now he can be properly buried.)

There is Jack Dalliard. Dead Jack Dalliard. Dead with closed eyes and a bullet hole and dried blood on his forehead that was never cleaned up Jack Dalliard.

(They find old Neddy Muldoon curled at Jack Dalliard's feet in the morning, dead.)

(The medical examiner cannot explain the death.)

("Perhaps he died of sheer terror?" He suggests.)

("Or pleasure?" He doesn't say. The insane smile on old Neddy Muldoon's corpse will never leave his mind.)

(MI5 will bury the incident. One last casualty of Jack Dalliard's Cause.)

---

[MASH - fic] Left out/jealousy.

Frank Burns, G, drabble.
Written June 5, 2006.

---

Frank always feels left out. He watches people fall into good love, have fun, and succeed without trouble. He’s the only one (he thinks) who failed Medical School seven times but still became a doctor. Still, he knows Hawkeye is better than him (at surgery only/Frank refuses to examine the rest of Hawkeye). He would never admit it, but inside he knows. It hurts, to see someone like that be better than him effortlessly. Hawkeye only passed Medical School once. He probably had a father who loved him and a good childhood, too. Frank would never be lucky like that.

---

[MASH - fic] Plane Thoughts

Henry Blake, G.
Return.
Written June 11, 2006.

---

Henry’s first thought when he got on his plane home was a good one. He was thinking of home, and his children and wife and a fishing trip with all of them. He looked forward to a night with his wife, who would stay with him and wouldn’t leave the next morning. Home. A peaceful place where he could nap in the backyard on a hammock for hours, or go inside to a little girl who loved him even though he’d been gone for a long time. Henry’s last thoughts were that of a home he would never get to.

---

[The Colbert Report/The Daily Show RPS - fic] In All Seriousness.

Jon Stewart/character!Stephen Colbert, R, subtle hints to slash, bondage, and more.
All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Stephen has Jon in a compromising position. Then he asks for something.
Written Feburary 21, 2008.

---

It wasn't long before he caved. Something was terribly wrong, of course, but he could say nothing. So he nodded, whimpered, and closed his eyes as Stephen betrayed his trust.

Stephen grinned a maniac grin, unseen by Jon. “About time, don't you think?”

“Th- think what?” Jon stuttered, his gut twisting slightly.

“I asked you for my own show.”

What? “What?”

Stephen leaned back, admiring the sight. “I'd like my own show.” He made a show of raising an eyebrow - how was he so good at that?

Jon closed his eyes again, but Stephen touched his nose. Jon opened them in a hurry.

“Can I, Jon?” He sounded so..so innocent. Jon knew he was seriously asking.

“Why are you asking me?” Jon managed, and Stephen's grin faltered.

Jon almost closed his eyes again. That was the wrong question, he should have said yes, yes yes -

Stephen stood up, letting go.

“Yes you can have your own show!” Jon said quickly.

Stephen appeared to mull this over. “You'll have to say that where someone else can hear you, Jon.” He said casually.

Jon didn't move. Maybe he could get out of this. Maybe he could give Stephen his own show.

Maybe.

Stephen touched Jon's nose again, and Jon's eyes flickered up.

It was time to focus.

Jon nodded without hesitation this time, and Stephen grinned. It was the first real grin Jon had seen on his face all day.

And Stephen finally began to untie him.

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 10 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written August 21, 2007 by Zekkass.

---

Dwayne pulled Rimmer into the nearest janitor’s closet and locked the door behind him. Rimmer raised an eyebrow. “You swiped the keys again?”

“Yes. We need this space more than ‘Bastian does. Now, to business.” Dwayne pulled out a bucket and sat down on it. “What are we going to do about Lister?”

Rimmer leaned on the door and considered. “I don’t want him to leave.”

“He upsets you. I want him to go.”

“I’ll be fine. Seriously, Dwayne. I like him.”

“Of course you do. He listens to you. Even if you’re telling the most boring story, he listens. For me, that’s proof he needs to go.”

Rimmer crossed his arms. “Don’t say that. He stays.” They stared at each other for a long moment, then Rimmer averted his eyes. “Damnit, Dwayne. He’s crazy. He believes that he’s from the future. We aren’t helping him escape.”

“You’re just trying to keep him.”

“Yes.”

“Selfish.”

Rimmer didn’t say anything, and Dwayne grinned. “Oh, very well. Do you want me to talk to the doctors, or do we just stay quiet and let things play out?”

Rimmer nodded. “Thank you. Let’s stay quiet. You know Crane’ll want to keep him. After she gets to him, he’s here forever.”

Dwayne shrugged and stood up. “I know. I know.”

“He named that other one Cat.”

“He..what?”

“You know the other one. He called him Cat.”

“Cat?”

“Yes.”

“Good name.”

“Yes.”

“I think we’re finished, here.”

“Yes.”

“You can stop the broken record impression, Rimmer.”

“Yes.” Rimmer grinned. Dwayne was a fleeting thing, a person who surfaced to say things to Rimmer, only to wiped away by that idiotic Cat. He liked talking to Dwayne. Dwayne liked talking to him. It all worked out. Someday, they would leave together.

Only, Lister had to stay, too. He listened to the things Dwayne wouldn’t. The long stories. The early stories. Rimmer liked that.

“Rimmer, one last thing before we rejoin the world.” Dwayne broke into his thoughts.

Before Rimmer could protest, (not that he would want to) Dwayne hugged him and licked his ear. Then he opened the door, and held it open for Rimmer. At Rimmer’s pleading look, he only said, “Later.”

There was another reason as to why Rimmer liked Dwayne. When he said later, later was soon. Not forever.

---

The bunkroom was unchanged when Lister returned to it, except for a few mussed sheets. He sat on his bed and considered playing solitaire again. Before he could make up his mind, the door to the bunkroom opened.

“Oh, hello!” Lister stared. It was Sebastian Doyle. Only it wasn’t.

“Er, hello..” Lister offered. “Who are you?”

“I’m Bastian, the janitor. You new around here?”

“Yeah.” Lister fiddled with the sheets. Bastian looked like Sebastian, but only vaguely. Just enough to remind him of when he had been a Doyle.

“Nice to meet you.” Bastian waved and began to sweep the floor.

Lister watched him sweep for a moment, then said, “Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a brother named Bill?”

“Yeah. What, did you meet him or something?”

“I’ve seen him around.” Lister put down the sheets.

“So how did you know we were brothers?”

“…lucky guess?” Lister sighed. He could have handled that better.

“Right.” Bastian looked at him oddly, than backed slowly out of the room.

---

By the time Rimmer and Dwayne returned to the bunkroom, Lister was almost finished building a house of cards. Unfortunately, opening the door began the short, yet incredibly effective demolition of the house of cards. “Smeg!”

“What?” Rimmer asked before he noticed the cards. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ll pick ‘em all up.”

Dwayne shrugged and stepped over to his bed as Rimmer bent down to pick up some of the cards.

Lister stopped picking up cards. Rimmer wasn’t supposed to be helping. He was a bastard, right? “Rimmer.”

“What?” Rimmer looked up.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes.”

Dwayne laughed. “And there’s the broken record again!”

Lister ignored Dwayne. “Then why are you helping me?”

“Why are you asking me why?” Rimmer absently picked up another card.

“It’s…oh, never mind. Thanks for the help.” Lister tapped his small deck into a manageable pile, then picked up another card. Several minutes passed before he spoke again. “Does anything happen here? I mean, is there a daily exercise run, or a doctor visit?”

“There’s a dorm check at eight, but that’s about it.” Rimmer said. “Dr. Crane might be visiting you soon, though. You’ll need meds for your recovery.”

“I don’t need meds.”

Dwayne laughed again. “’course you don’t! Nobody here needs meds, right?”

Lister glared but didn’t refute him. “So when do I meet her?”

Rimmer glanced at the clock. “Anytime, now. Here’s the rest of your cards.” He handed over the small deck.

“Thanks.” Lister put the deck together. So he could be meeting Crane soon…he didn’t know what to feel. He wasn’t afraid, but definitely nervous. What kind of meds would a doctor prescribe for him? Anti-depressants? Ritalin?

Nothing?

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 09 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written August 7, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

Breakfast was a much less hurried affair, and the cafeteria was not as crowded. However, when Lister went through the food-line, this time there were lunch ladies manning the dishes.

“Hi!” chirped Kochanski, when Lister got up to her. “How’s reality, cutie?” Lister dropped his tray into the pancakes.

“Reality?” He asked. She had to be kidding. This wasn’t reality. At least, not his reality.

She smiled at him and gently picked up the tray. “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer. How are you coping with your roommates?”

“They’re fine.” Lister took the tray back and put on some pancakes. “I’m fine, and I’m sure your reality is fine.”

“My reality?” She asked, confused.

Before he could answer, not-Hollister pushed the line on. Lister could only shrug at her and head for his seat.

---

Dwayne had already taken the same seat he had yesterday, so Lister assumed he was to sit at that table again. Bill wasn’t around, though. Thankfully, neither was Nelson. At the thought of Nelson, Lister smiled to himself. That had been another close encounter, but then again, who could resist laughing at such a name? Not he!

“’morning.” Dwayne looked up.

“What are you doing here?”

“Eating.” Lister sat down and put syrup on his pancakes. “Or am I not allowed to do that?”

“Hey! What’s with the attitude?”

“What attitude?”

“That one you got now!”

“What the smeg-?” Where was Dwayne? This wasn’t the same guy Lister had been talking to this morning. Unless…What had Rimmer said? No, Dwayne wasn’t sane. Lister put it all together. “Cat?”

“That’s me!” Cat/Dwayne grinned, and this time Lister noticed the lack of feline teeth. What was it about Cat that brought those out, even when he didn’t have them?

“Then…where’s Dwayne?”

“Busy.” Cat went back to eating his food.

Lister prodded his pancakes. He was hungry, but he didn’t really feel like eating, now.

---

Half an hour later, Lister was still prodding his pancakes. He didn’t want to go back to the bunkroom, and he didn’t want to go exploring. Instead, he just sat back and watched the people.

It hurt, to see Petersen walking around like everything was normal, and to see Selby talking with Kochanski. It hurt, when he knew that they were dead, and that these people were not the crewmates and drinking buddies he remembered. It hurt, to see them do something that screamed not-Petersen/Selby/whoever-they-were to Lister, and to have no one stop them.

What would one say to someone who was acting wrong? ‘Stop, you’re out of character?’ Lister didn’t know. He had almost run to Petersen, when he had first seen him walk in, but his last shreds of common sense had stopped him. This Petersen wouldn’t know him. Still, he wanted to run over and talk to them and - make them be right.

He was considering returning to the bunkroom when Rimmer walked in.

---

When Rimmer finally made it through the line, he sat across from Lister and automatically stopped Cat from throwing oatmeal at Hollister.

“’morning.”

“Good morning!” Lister winced. Rimmer was waaay too cheery for mornings, in any universe. “How was breakfast?”

“Fine.” Lister prodded his pancakes again.

“Good!” Rimmer, again, wasn’t eating much. All he had was a bowl of oatmeal and two slices of toast. (And a cup of tea.) Lister thought about it, then decided not to ask. “Have they noticed you yet?”

“What?”

“The rest of them.” Rimmer waved his hand vaguely at the rest of the cafeteria. “Have they said hello or anything?”

“Just Kochanski…”

“Degenerates. You’re new around here. Ah, give them time. Newcomers never go long without a proper greetings.” Rimmer shuddered. “I’d suggest that you try to stay out of sight.”

Lister raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

A moment passed, then Rimmer asked, “Was Dwayne behaving himself?”

“Oh, yeah. Cat’s fine.” Lister said. “He hasn’t thrown any food, if that’s what you mean.”

“Cat?”

“He’s not Dwayne.”

“I know what you mean.” Rimmer nodded. “Good name for him. It came from your ‘memories’, right?”

“Yeah.”

Rimmer shrugged. He wasn’t going to argue about reality this early in the morning. At least, not until after his morning tea.

Cat tried to throw food at various peoples throughout the dinner, but Rimmer seemed to know how to stop him. No one came by the table, and Lister didn’t complain.

After another ten minutes of watching people eat, Lister had had enough. “Rimmer, I’m going back to the bunkroom.”

“Bunkroom?”

“The room where we stay.”

“Oh. See you back shortly, then.”

Lister took his tray up, waved goodbye to Kochanski, and went back to the bunkroom.

---

As soon as Lister left, Rimmer tapped Cat on the shoulder. “Dwayne.”

Cat was gone, instantly replaced by Dwayne. “Yeah?”

“Finish up quickly. We need to talk.”

Dwayne nodded, and they took up their trays and left the lunch-room.

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 08 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written July 31, 2006.

---

Curfew was called, and the lights went out.

Lister stared at the now-dark ceiling and wondered what he was going to do. It would be all too easy to make for the exit now, but then again, wouldn’t the doors be locked?

He didn’t know. For now, he was safe, so Lister pulled up the blankets and tried to sleep.

Maybe everything would be normal in the morning.

---

He’s back at home. Not Red Dwarf, Liverpool.

Rimmer’s there. Not the real one, the hospitalized one. They’re drinking together, and laughing together and-

The bar’s crowded, but Lister doesn’t know anyone there, except for Rimmer. They talk, but Lister can’t understand him, but Rimmer keeps talking and he just won’t stop so Lister throws down his drink and leans closer and-

shouldn’t they be fighting?

But it’s a kiss, an honest kiss, but something’s wrong right wrong and then Cat (Or Dwayne?) runs in with a gun and shoots him and

The last thing Lister remembers is Rimmer looking at him with those slightly-wrong eyes and-

Lister woke up.

---

No dice. Lister was still in the hospital.

He sits up, and everything feels normal. In fact, he’d think that everything was normal if his surroundings weren’t inherently wrong.

Rimmer’s still sleeping, but Dwayne is up and reading. Lister would rather eat pasta than talk to Dwayne, but he has no choice.

“Dwayne?”

“Yeah?” Dwayne looks up from the book and frowns. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I’m awake now.” Lister shrugs. “Where are the bathrooms?”

Dwayne blinks, and the frown becomes a smile. “End of the hallway, clearly marked. Don’t mix up the boys with the girls.”

“Right.” Lister quick-steps out of the room.

---

On his way back from the W.C., Lister met a familiar face.

“William?”

Bill stopped walking. “Don’t call me that. I’m Bill. What do you want?”

“..Nothing.”

“Good. Goodbye, newbie.”

Before Lister could say anything more, Bill was gone.

---

By the time Lister got back, Dwayne was napping, and Rimmer was still sleeping.

Lister didn’t touch the books. He didn’t feel like sleeping, though.

So he picked up a deck of cards and started up a game of solitaire. (With his own rules, of course.)

---

An hour later, when Lister was about ready to burn the bloody cards (He had lost six times, even with his own rules), Rimmer woke up.

“’Morning.”

“Hmm?” Rimmer rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Oh yeah. You.”

“Me.”

Rimmer yawned, stretched, and - to Lister’s surprise – didn’t hop into a round of morning exercises. Instead, he grabbed the book Dwayne had been reading and began to flip through it.

Lister decided to try for conversation. “Do you guys have anything else to do? I mean, cards and books are cool, but don’t you guys have anything more exciting?”

“Yes. There’s a rec room. It doesn’t have much, though.” Rimmer went back to reading.

Well. Lister decided to look for that, later. If he couldn’t get home quickly, he wanted to find something more exciting than solitaire. Unfortunately, Rimmer wasn’t following up on his statement. “Rimmer?”

“What?”

Lister mentally sighed and braced himself. “Talk to me.”

“This early in the morning?”

“Yes.”

Rimmer perked up a bit. Lister did want conversation! “Have you ever been to Io?”

“No.”

“Okay...” Rimmer frowned. Lister had just said he wanted to talk. If he hadn’t been to Io, this story wouldn’t work. Well, then Lister would just have to hear about Io first, wouldn’t he? “How much do you know about Io?”

“Not much.” Lister admitted. He knew that Rimmer had grown up on Io, and that it had environmental domes, but that was about it. What was Rimmer up to?

“Well, you need to know that Io is covered with environmental domes. These keep the place livable, but it severely limits what you can do. I mean, there isn’t much travel, because opening the domes and what-not is such a smegging pain. I was lucky I got off of there at all.”

“Wait. You didn’t have launch-pads, like on Mimas?”

Rimmer sneered. “Of course we did, Lister. Unfortunately, those were reserved for ‘upper-classmen’ and Space Corp. members. Not for the rest of us. The pads were too expensive for public use, they said. Bloody fools.”

Lister stared. “Wait a minute. How did you get off the moon, then?”

“Space Corp. wouldn’t take me, so I signed up on a tour-shuttle for tour guide.” Rimmer glanced at Lister. “They dumped me into stasis and dropped me off on Earth after I refused to describe Mimas. Smegging rich baboons.”

Lister smiled and leaned back on the bed. Now this was a story he could listen to.

That was when the breakfast bell rang.

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 07 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written July 24, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

Dinner time was fascinating, to say the least. The cafeteria was laid out in that classic style that you see in school lunchrooms everywhere.

The line wasn’t a long one, but it was still a few minutes until Dwayne was able to get his hands on a tray. Soon after Rimmer and Lister were armed as well. Lister kept recognizing faces, but by now he knew not to call out to them. Just because that looked like Selby didn’t mean it was, after all.

Rimmer eyed Dwayne warily. “Lister. If he starts throwing his food around, stop him. Otherwise we get food-fights.” He grimaced and served himself some mashed potatoes.

Dwayne was happily ignoring everything on the menu except for the fish. He hummed the tune of ‘I’m Gonna Eat You, Little Fishy’ that Lister immediately recognized from when Cat had tried to eat his robotic goldfish.

The line moved along quickly, and Rimmer led them to a table that was off in a corner, but not entirely separated from the main crunch. There was already someone sitting at it, but he did his best to ignore them when they sat down.

“Rimmer.” Hissed Lister. “Who’s that there?” He tilted his head towards the man at their table and silently hoped that it wasn’t who he thought it was.

Rimmer glanced at him and shrugged. “That’s Bill. Do you know him from your ‘memories’?” He turned the last word into a sarcastic bite, but Lister shrugged it off.

“Yeah, I recognize him. I just don’t know how he could be here…” William Doyle. Rimmer with silver hair and a yak-urine coat. Here, he only vaguely resembled Rimmer, and the only reason Lister recognized him was because of the hair.

Rimmer opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn’t going to ask.

Lister watched William Doyle eat a sparse meal of mashed potatoes and corn, and at one point locked eyes with the man. His eyes were blue – not Rimmer’s. Lister blinked, waved, and went back to his own meal.

William blinked back, but didn’t wave.

Just as Lister polished off his fish, Dwayne’s hand shot out and caught a thrown fish.

“Stop!” Rimmer grabbed the arm before it could move again and confiscated the fish. “Not now, Dwayne. No playing with your food.”

“Aww.” Dwayne reluctantly put down the fruit in his other hand and went back to singing his fish-eating tune.

Rimmer didn’t eat much, considering that he had missed lunch. Lister almost felt tempted to force food on him, but if he did Rimmer would probably take it as a comment about his body-image and almost certainly be snarky about it for the rest of the day. But then again, maybe not. Lister ended up ignoring the problem. If Rimmer didn’t want to eat much, fine.

The meal was almost over when Hudzen walked over. Lister knew that face. He wouldn’t ever forget that face.

“Hullo, boys. Time for another food-fight, Dwayne?” He grinned unpleasantly at them.

Rimmer glared. “Go away, Nelson.”

Lister stared. Hudzen? With a name like Nelson? He resisted the urge to snigger, but couldn’t resist a chuckle.

Chuckling attracted Nelson’s attention. “Something funny?”

“No.” Lister gazed levelly back at him. He would not laugh. “Nelson.” That threw it. Lister collapsed in giggles.

Nelson reached over Dwayne and grabbed Lister’s shoulder. “What. Is. So.” He paused for dramatic effect. “…Funny?”

Lister only laughed harder. Finally! Something in this place that didn’t twist itself! Nelson may have been Hudzen’s name, but he was the same. The only thing missing was the robot outfit.

Nelson glared and began to twist Lister’s shoulder. “Stop that.” Other patients were beginning to stare; who was the unlucky fool who had pissed off Nelson?

Lister grinned and removed the arm without fear. After dealing with a Vindalooian monster, a Simulant, and living in Rimmer’s body for several days, he could handle anything.

Rimmer warily glanced at the two of them and decided to speak up. “Nelson, this is Lister. He’s-“

“Dead meat.” Nelson growled. Lister only grinned harder.

“Nelson! Ever hear of Silicon Heaven?”

Dwayne leaned over. “Hey! D’you have a deathwish or something?”

Lister shrugged. “Nah. He’s not much.” His little Paranoia man in his head began to jump up and down and remind him that he had only beaten the Vindalooian monster and the Simulant through luck. His Confidence took a swing and began to wrestle Paranoia. Lister simply took another bite of his corn, ignoring Nelson.

Nelson picked up the lunch-tray and threw it on the floor.

Lister watched him do this, then fell down laughing again. His common sense gave up and packed it’s bags, already heading for Alabama.

“Um, Lister, you might want to stop that.” Rimmer leaned back in his seat, away from Nelson.

“I’ll be fine.” Lister stood up, picked up his tray and took it to the waste bin. Nelson watched this, then charged Lister.

It was only through sheer luck that Lister managed to drop his tray right in front of Nelson, instead of on the waste bin. Nelson stepped on it, slipped, and tipped over the waste bin onto himself.

The entire cafeteria burst out laughing while Lister shrugged and walked back to their table.

“Nothing to it.”

Rimmer stared, stood, and fled. Dwayne hastily followed, but not before grabbing some extra fish from the buffet. Lister watched them hurry out, then sauntered out.

He completely missed Nelson’s death-glare.

---

“What the HELL were you thinking?” Rimmer shouted, once they were back in their room. “Were you trying to get us killed?”

“No.” Lister sat on his bunk and prepared for the grilling. “Rimmer. I’ve faced him before. He may be strong, but he’s got the brains of a fruit-fly.”

“Faced?”

“He tried to kill me.”

“Oh. I see.” Rimmer sneered. “So surviving him once sets you up for surviving him again?”

“I guess.” Lister shrugged. “Sorry about that, actually. It’s just his name…”

“Nelson?”

Lister chuckled again.

“What’s so funny about that?”

“The last time I faced him, he had a gun, and his name was Hudzen.”

“Hudzen?”

“Yeah.” Lister flopped back on the bed. “He was a robot.”

“A robot, you say?” The sarcasm crept back into Rimmer’s voice.

“Yeah.” Lister closed his eyes. He wasn’t tired, but right now he needed a break from all of this. The laughter had been good, but now he had another thing to worry about.

Rimmer sneered and dropped the subject. Dwayne just finished his fish and then dropped off for a nap.

Lister laid on the bunk and stared at the now-familiar ceiling.

---

Rimmer wasn’t sure what to make of Lister. One moment he was a good person to talk to, and the next he insulted the resident strong-man. Lister was crazy.

Still. Lister listened to him. Rimmer didn’t want him to leave.

Not at all.

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 06 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written July 17, 2006.

---

Lister tried to while away the hours by watching the ceiling. First he examined the few cracks, and then he examined the lights. The ceiling wasn’t very interesting.

He tried to resist looking to his right, towards Rimmer and Dwayne. He failed at that miserably, and he fell into a pattern of looking to his right every few seconds, then glancing away again.

Whenever he looked back, Dwayne was still watching him through half-opened eyes. Rimmer was sleeping, or faking it.

He forced himself not to look at the cabinet. Sure, reading things would be a way to pass the time, but Lister did not want to touch things here that he didn’t have to. If he did that, maybe this reality would be real and natural and Red Dwarf wrong.

The sandwiches he had gotten from not-Kochanski had tasted like cardboard, in a way. They hadn’t felt real. None of this did. If he looked at the ceiling right, it was a little fuzzy and he was reminded of the AR games he had experimented with on Red Dwarf. They hadn’t felt real enough, so he hadn’t played with them much. He was bored, but he wasn’t that bored. Everything in the game reality had been real, but background objects didn’t do anything if he touched them, characters that weren’t meant to be interacted with repeated themselves, and the sky looked fuzzy if you glanced at it.

Lister knew the ceiling wasn’t a game ceiling. It looked solid, and it only fuzzed if Lister screwed up his eyes just so.

By now, he was sure that this place wasn’t an AR game. Still, he wasn’t going to touch the background objects.

“Leave the cabinet alone…” He muttered softly. Smeg. Now he was curious, but thankfully, not enough to go play with reality.

He stole another glance at his roommates.

Dwayne had closed his eyes, but Rimmer was staring at the ceiling, now.

---

An hour later, Rimmer stood up and pulled out a pack of cards from under his bed. He sat cross-legged and began to play Solitaire.

Lister sat up and watched him.

A few minutes later, Rimmer was staring at the cards, and completely missing the red jack on the red queen.

“Hey. Rimmer.” Lister said quietly. For some reason, it sounded entirely too loud in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” Rimmer didn’t look up.

“Red jack on black queen.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Rimmer smiled in his direction and made the move.

Lister smiled faintly and leaned back, listening to the quiet snap of the cards.

He felt content, for the first time since he had arrived here.

---

Dinner time arrived with a bell ringing twice. Dwayne jumped to his feet as Rimmer cleaned up the cards, and both of them waved for him to follow as they left the room.

“Hurry. We don’t want to miss the food.” Dwayne muttered to him as they hurried down the corridor. “Thursday’s fish night, and I’m not missing any of it.”

Rimmer bristled at the comment. “You aren’t playing with the fish, Dwayne. I actually want to get to eat today.”

“Hey! You ate at breakfast, right?”

“And I missed lunch, thanks to you.”

Lister started. “You missed lunch?”

“Thanks to Dwayne here…” Rimmer grumbled.

“I would’ve shared my sandwiches with you, you know. All you had to do was ask.” Okay, maybe not. Lister mentally shrugged at himself. He didn’t really know. Anyways, he could make the gesture here.

“You would?” Rimmer seemed surprised at the offer. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, man. Why not?” Lister’s mind helpfully offered up dozens of excuses why not. Lister pushed those away and tried to focus on Rimmer. “I wasn’t that hungry.”

Dwayne laughed. “You’re leading me on. You? Giving food to Rimmer? Ha!”

Lister scowled. Why couldn’t Dwayne be consistent? One moment, he was threatening Lister because he thought he was hurting Rimmer, the next he was casually dismissing Rimmer and Lister.

Rimmer scowled at Dwayne. “Why shouldn’t he? Lister isn’t like you.”

“There ain’t nobody like me!” Dwayne screeched with laughter and danced up the corridor.

“No, there isn’t, thank god.” Rimmer muttered.

Lister sniggered at the remark as Dwayne yowled. What the smeg was going on?

Rimmer noted the confusion and sobered up a bit. “Lister, we’re all crazy here.” He offered quietly. “Don’t forget that.”

Then he sped up to catch up with Dwayne. Lister almost stopped walking.

How could he have forgotten that? He was in a smegging hospital! This wasn’t Red Dwarf. At all. People were crazy here, and just because they looked and acted like his shipmates didn’t mean that they were normal people. Lister couldn’t forget that. Just because he had finally gotten somewhat used to Rimmer and Dwayne wasn’t an excuse for completely forgetting basic alternate dimension survival skills. (Okay, he didn’t have any basic alternate dimension survival skills, but he could make up some as he went along.)

Lister silently vowed not to let himself forget that. If he could forget that people here were crazy, what else could he end up forgetting?

Lister hurried to catch up with his roommates and tried not to shiver too much.

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 05 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written July 10, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

Not-Kryten stood aside as not-Holly strode up to Lister. Rimmer backed up and bumped into his bed. He sat down, glanced at the now-awake-again Dwayne, and shrugged. He didn’t know where this was going.

“Ah, Mr. Lister. How are you?” Dr. Holly held out his hand, and after a second, Lister shook it. It was a normal handshake, but Lister shook his hand slightly when it was over. Holly shouldn’t have a body, he thought.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Lister crossed his arms. “Now can I have my clothing back?”

Holly nodded sharply and made a few notes on his clipboard. “No. You get your clothing when you leave this hospital, and you only woke up several days ago. We have no way of knowing if you are well yet. Perhaps in a week or two you can go. We have no way of knowing if this sudden awakening is permanent or not.” Here he actually looked at Lister. “For all we know, you could slip back into your coma at any moment. Until we are assured of your stability, you can not leave. Is that clear?”

“Yes. Very clear.” It was almost too clear. Perhaps this hospital dealt with coma victims frequently? Lister uncrossed his arms and gazed back at Dr. Holly, who immediately looked back at his clipboard. “How soon until you can prove my stability?”

“I don’t know. Yours is a unique case, Mr. Lister. We will have to put you through testing, of course. Also, Dr. Crane will want a look at you. She’s convinced that medicine will help you on the road to recovery.” He chuckled. “She thinks medicine will heal the world of everything, Mr. Lister, and she’s probably right. Take whatever she prescribes, right? Good.” Dr. Holly made a few more notes on his clipboard. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you. Dr. Kryten handles this ward, so if you need anything, talk to him. Have a good day, then.”

He left the room in a rush, and not-Kryten smiled at Lister and then he too left. The entire exchange had taken about five minutes.

“Are they usually that fast?” Lister asked Rimmer.

“Sometimes. It depends on the patient.” Rimmer stood back up and brushed off his uniform. “That’s the first time I’ve seen Dr. Holly recommend Crane to anyone, though.” At Lister’s confused look, he elaborated. “Dr. Crane is our resident pharmacist. She handles all prescriptions and medicines. She’s really good. Just because she’s had trouble with me doesn’t mean she can’t handle anything else.”

“Trouble with you?” Lister snorted. He hadn’t met Crane, back during the Holoship adventure, but Rimmer had gone on at length about her. She had actually given up her existence for Rimmer. If this was the same Crane, Rimmer shouldn’t have any problems with her.

“She can’t figure out what kind of meds to give me. By now I’ve been through her entire collection, and I’m still not cured.”

“Of what?”

“There’s the problem.” Rimmer shrugged. “They still don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s sort of a cross between my heart not working properly and a rather long list of physiological disorders. They think it has something to do with stress, but who knows?” He threw up his arms in frustration. “I’m still sick, and they won’t let me out. I’m stuck here, and who knows when I’ll be allowed out again? Crane’s trying, but I don’t think-“ Rimmer glanced at the medicine bottles he had been given. “Anxiety medicines are going to help.”

Lister stared. He’d known Rimmer had lots of neuroses, but an actual physical illness? That wasn’t right. There it was again. He wasn’t in the right reality.

“Rimmer?”

“Yeah?”

“How sick are you, exactly?”

“I’ve been feeling fine! I haven’t fainted for a long time, now, and there hasn’t been any trouble with my heart since that last attack back – Why am I telling you this?”

Lister smiled gently. “It seems that we’ve both had a case of telling each other too much information.”

“Yeah…” Rimmer frowned slightly and sat back down the bed. “I can’t believe I went that far.” He looked back up at Lister. “Do I know you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did we know each other before you fell into the coma?”

Lister frowned. This was unexpected. What was Rimmer thinking? “I don’t think so.” No, he had met Rimmer on Mimas. Not on Earth, and certainly never in Liverpool.

“Odd. I keep thinking I know you from somewhere…else.” Rimmer ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

Lister nodded slowly. He didn’t know what Rimmer meant, but he could understand the frustration. How easy it was to actually talk to this Rimmer! He could almost get through the prickly exterior without trouble. “I know what you mean, man.”

Rimmer smiled at him for a second, then realized what he was doing. He scowled and laid down. “I shouldn’t be talking to you so much.” He complained.

Lister sighed and watched Rimmer sulk. Well. Moments would come, and then they would go. He had one more thing to say before he could let Rimmer fly off. “Rimmer?”

“What do you want?” By now Rimmer’s tone was acid.

“I promise not to tell anyone else about what you told me.”

Rimmer looked at him, weighed his options, and relaxed a bit. “Good.”

And that was the closest thing to a ‘thank you’ Lister would get from Rimmer.

“You’re welcome.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever. Leave me alone.”

Dwayne sat up. “Hey! What did you do to him?”

Lister started, surprised by the unexpected company. “Nothing?”

“That’s not true!” Dwayne smoothly leapt over to Lister’s bunk. “What did you do to him? He never sulks like this!”

“He doesn’t?”

“He’ll get quiet sometimes, but he doesn’t sulk! What did you say to him?”

Rimmer scowled again. “I’m not sulking!”

Lister sniggered. “Rimmer, give it up.”

Dwayne glared. “Stop it.”

“What?”

“You’re provoking him. That’s how he got sick! Don’t do it!”

Whoa. Cat protecting Rimmer? Lister mentally shook himself. Just because Rimmer wasn’t quite Rimmer didn’t mean Cat was Cat. “Sorry.” He offered.

“Don’t do it again.” Dwayne grinned, and this time, even without the teeth, Lister shivered. This grin was not a friendly one. “He’s under my protection. I don’t want him sick again.”

Then Dwayne’s grin became friendly and he dashed back to his own bed and curled up. He didn’t sleep, though.

Lister could only stare and wonder. How on Earth had Cat grown to like Rimmer?

“Lister?”

Rimmer was talking again. “Yeah?”

“He doesn’t really like me.”

Well. That was news to him. “What was that about?”

“We handle each other. He has his own problems, and I have mine. If we don’t help each other somewhat, the problems get worse. I want out of here. If I can’t fix myself, I can’t leave.”

It felt like Rimmer was talking to the ceiling.

“Don’t mess this up, Lister. I’ll help you along, but if you screw my chances, I won’t even try to help you.”

Lister nodded. “I won’t screw your chances, okay?”

“Good.” Rimmer sighed and relaxed again. “Dinner’s in a couple hours. There should be some books in the cabinet, as long as you don’t touch the medicine, you can read them. I’m going to nap now.” He closed his eyes.

Even as Lister sat down on the bed slowly, Dwayne wouldn’t stop watching him.

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 04 - WIP (discontinued)

Rimmer/Lister, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written July 3, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

Dwayne was up and about the second not-Kryten left the room. He hopped off the bunk and swirled over to Lister’s bunk. “Hey! You! New guy! What did you do to doctor-dude?”

“You didn’t hear?” Huh. Dwayne must not have the Cat’s hearing in this universe, Lister mused. That made sense, but it still was creepy. Smeg, the whole thing was creepy! “He’s off to get Hol – Dr. Holly.”

“Oh.” Dwayne tilted his head a bit, and grinned. Without the Cat teeth, it didn’t really work. “You aren’t going to get anywhere with him, man! He’d jump off a cliff if the hospital policies said he had to.”

At this, not-Rimmer sat up. “No, he wouldn’t. He’s gone a bit nutty. Ever since he was accidentally locked in with 'Bonesucker' Jameson for three hours, he’s gone off the deep end, if you’ll pardon my phrasing. If the rule-book said to jump off a cliff, he’d do it, but he’d take an umbrella with him. Keep your facts straight, especially around Lister. He’s still learning the ropes, and you don’t want to confuse him.”

Dwayne scowled at him, hopped on his bunk, and started another nap.

“…Wasn’t he just asleep?” Lister asked, mentally skipping over the Holly information. So Holly had gone senile in this universe. Not computer senile, but something close to it. He’d have to see for himself how much, but it was nice to know that Holly would be kind of familiar. Maybe he’d have a chance with him. Maybe.

“Yes. The little blighter takes cat-naps,” Not-Rimmer spat the word out like it was poison. “Every other minute. If he’s not sleeping, he’s preening or eating. Degenerate.”

“Ah. Right. I should’ve known. Cat does that a lot.”

“Cat?” Rimmer waved his hand at Dwayne. “Didn’t you call him that earlier today?”

Oops. He hadn’t meant to say that. “Yeah, Cat. I knew him on the Red Dwarf. He doesn’t nap as much these days, but you should’ve seen him back when we first found him.” He stopped. That had been too much information. Way too much. Smeg.

Rimmer put his finger on his chin for a second, considering this. “We?”

Lister told himself not to say too much. “Yeah. Me and Rimmer. It’s been barely an hour after I came out of stasis, and then we found the Cat. Red Dwarf’s a huge ship, you know. I’m amazed that we even ran into each other.” Damn it. That was too much information again.

Rimmer scrunched his brow. This would take more than his usual finger-on-chin ponder. Right. Start with the basics. “Stasis?”

Lister crossed his arms. “I’m not doing this, Rimmer.”

“What? Explaining? Why not, squire?”

“I’m getting out of here. Some way or another. Red Dwarf was not a dream. It was real. This has to be an alternate reality, or something like that. I’ll bet that Kryten’s figuring out how to use the matter-paddle to jump between dimensions right now, or that they’re searching for the time-hole I must have fallen through. I’ll be home in a week. Or two. Last time it took us nearly a month to get Kryters and Rimmer back from that Backwards reality. I’m not going to mess up whatever reality I’m in now with my knowledge.” Lister looked not-Rimmer straight in the eyes. He hadn’t meant to say all of that, but it had been building up ever since he had gotten here. It felt kind of nice to tell someone about his adventures, even if they’d never be believed.

There was no way that this was his reality. He had not dreamt up Red Dwarf. Not a chance. Maybe this was a despair squid hallucination. Well, whatever it was, it would not work on Dave Lister. No-siree.

Not-Rimmer looked straight back into those brown eyes and wondered what he could believe. He had seen Lister in a coma ever since he had shared rooms with him. Then again, Lister seemed completely convinced that he was telling the truth. He weighed the options, than went with the one that made the most sense: Lister was a nutter. A nice one, but still a nutter.

What a pity. He’d have to stay here, of course, but that was a good thing.

Lister sighed. He knew what Rimmer would believe. Back when the Inquisitor had attacked, Rimmer had taken in his evidence, but hadn’t tried to help at all. Only after he had been put in mortal danger had he helped Lister and Kryten. This Rimmer was different, but not enough.

“You don’t believe me.” He stated the truth, but knew that not-Rimmer would say he was lying. Whatever not-Rimmer believed, he’d try to convince Lister that he believed him.

“No, I do-“ Lister glared.

“Yer lying, Rimmer. Give it up.”

Just as Rimmer was about to reply, Dr. Holly and Dr. Kryten entered the room.

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 03 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written June 25, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

Several hours later, and Lister was ready to strangle not-Rimmer.

“Rimmer.”

“And the – what?”

“You’ve been talking for the last hour non-stop. Aren’t ye going to take a break?”

Rimmer cocked and eyebrow. Did this mean he wanted him to stop talking? “But I’m in the middle of a story! I can’t stop now…”

Lister sighed and put his head into his hands. The Cat – no, Dwayne had the right idea. Using the sheets as earplugs was a brilliant idea.

“Rimmer, you don’t have to finish the story. I know how this one ends.”

“You do? How? I’ve never told you this one before.”

“He throws a three and a two, and you throw a four and a two. Then you pick up the dice and,” Here Lister stood up and mimed picking up some dice. “Instead of jamming them up his nostrils, butting him on the nose and watching the dice blast out of his ears,” He mimed doing this to not-Rimmer, “You threw them and got a five and a two. It got you into some new country or something. I’ve heard this story before.” He only remembered the story because it led to Kryten’s discovery with the matter-paddle, but he had heard it before.

Not-Rimmer considered this for a second. “Lister, you missed an important detail – I rolled a four and a one, not a two. Your amazing information is wrong. Ha!”

Lister simply sighed and shook his head. “Just shut up for a while. You’ve been talking non-stop. Don’t you ever, ever take a break?”

“From what?”

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“Shut. Up.”

Not-Rimmer stared. Well! The impudence of this man! How dare he! His stare turned into a glare, and he turned away, sniffing haughtily. “If that’s the way you want it…”

Lister groaned. Not this. Not again. “Rimmer…”

“If you want me to ‘shut up’, then I will.”

“Look, man. You can tell me your stories later. I just want a break right now. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Rimmer turned back to him, surprised. No one had ever tolerated him like this before! “Really?”

“Yes.” Lister smiled at him slightly, and then lay down the bed. He’d try to get a nap. If he was lucky, he’d wake up on the Red Dwarf. If he wasn’t, then he’d wake up here and then have to sit through another round of Risk stories. Either way, a nap was needed.

That was when not-Kryten walked in. “Ah, Arnold. It’s time for your meds. Dr. Crane thinks that these will work.” He fished around in his pockets, and produced a white bottle. He read the label carefully. “Take these twice daily with your meals. Do you think you can handle that?”

Not-Rimmer nodded. “Of course, doctor.” He took them and glanced at the clock. “I’ll have one with dinner. Is the cafeteria clean yet?”

Lister watched them talk, and gave up on sleeping. He sat up and tried not to be too conspicuous.

“No, Arnold. The ceiling is especially difficult to reach. I expect that I’ll have to help them set up the ladders and so on.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You really should try to keep Dwayne out of the cafeteria. He’s a horror in there.”

“Yes, yes. I know. I’m not his keeper, though.”

“You’re his roommate. Keep him under control or I’ll have to step in.” The seriousness of not-Kryten’s tone made Lister curious. Why would not-Rimmer be given a responsibility for a roommate? Smeg, Rimmer wasn’t very good with any responsibility. Did not-Kryten not know this?

“Of course, sir. I’ll keep him ship-shape.” Not-Rimmer did one of his triple salutes, and Lister shook his head. Some things would always be the same. He glanced over at the Ca- no, Dwayne, who was now sleeping. Did he care that not-Rimmer was his caretaker, or something? “Anything else, sir?”

“No, no. I just have to check on Dave…you’re up! Feeling better?” Lister shivered slightly. This not-Kryten was off, somehow.

“I’m fine, Kryten.”

“Are you tired? Hungry? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine. Rimmer took me for food.” He waved a hand in not-Rimmer’s direction, and ignored the pleased smile this brought. “Now tell me this: Where are my clothes?”

“Oh, this again? You still can’t have them. Not until you are discharged from the hospital, and you are still very, very sick. You’ll need to stay here for several weeks, so you can regain your strength.”

“Smeg that. Give me my clothing. And stop calling me Dave. You don’t know me.” Lister stood up and crossed his arms, trying to look threatening. (And failing. Hospital scrubs don’t particularly look frightening.)

Not-Kryten blinked rapidly for several seconds. What was he supposed to do? Patients weren’t supposed to be hostile! “Uh, okay, Mr. Lister. I can’t give you your clothing, but if you stay here I’ll go get Dr. Holly.” He hurried out of the room.

“Good.” Lister grinned. Now he was getting somewhere! In his excitement, he missed Rimmer’s despairing look – someone else was trying to leave him. Dwayne was fine company, but Lister had actually seemed interested in what he had to say.

He looked at Lister for a long moment, then sat back down on his bunk.

Maybe there was something he could do to change Lister’s mind…

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 02 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written June 19, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

Lister woke up the next morning to the sound of someone screaming.

“Help! Help! They’re trying to make me wear it again!”

Oh. He was still in the hospital. The not-Cat was being held down by not-Kryten while not-Holly forced him into a light-green hospital gown.

Lister turned around and tried to go back to sleep, but it was too late. Rimmer had noticed him.

“Ah, our new friend is awake.” He sneered, pleased at the chance to put down Lister. “Let me guess. Not only do you know my name, you also know my age, hometown, and how many people I’ve slept with.”

Lister sighed and put his head in his hands. It was too early to deal with Rimmer, especially here. “Leave me alone, Rimmer. I don’t want to deal with you right now.”

“Ah ha! So you don’t know everything!”

Lister sat up and faced Rimmer. “I don’t know where or when you were born, and I don’t care. Now, have you ever been on the Red Dwarf?”

Rimmer blinked, a bit taken aback at the energy of his new roommate. “No..”

“Good.” Lister nodded. That meant that Rimmer had never met McGruder. “No, you’ve never slept with anybody.”

That got a response. Rimmer started, and Lister knew he would lie in a second, if he let him.

“Don’t lie, Rimmer. I’m going back to sleep.” And he turned over and tried to tune out the sounds of the still-struggling not-Cat.

Rimmer scowled, but he couldn’t stop watching Lister. Not this time.

---

Two hours later, Lister woke up again to the sounds of silence.

He turned over and saw that the not-Cat was gone, but not-Rimmer was watching him. Not-Rimmer jerked back, startled at the sudden movement and then proceeded to stand up and carefully brush his hospital uniform off.

The complete Rimmerness of the motion set Lister to smiling slightly. Even if this wasn’t the Red Dwarf, and even if this not-Rimmer wasn’t Rimmer, some things would always be the same.

“You’re up.” not-Rimmer sneered slightly. “Feeling better?” The sarcasm that leaked into everything almost made Lister feel at home.

“Yes, actually. I’m getting up.” Lister carefully stood up, and waited a second for a dizziness that never came. “Where’s the Cat?”

“Cat?” not-Rimmer looked genuinely confused. Oh. The not-Cat must be known by a different name here, wherever this was.

“…He’s in the bunk next to you.”

“Oh. Dwayne? The nutter who thinks he’s a cat? He’s off getting lunch. He’ll be back soon, unfortunately. He’ll take another nap, and claim that he needs it. Git.”

“They have a lunch room here?” Lister took in the information and easily ignored the Rimmer-style commentary.

“Of course! What, did you think that they’d bring food to us? We aren’t in a fancy restaurant.”

Lister glared. “Where do they keep the clothing?”

“They don’t let us have clothing. Just these uniforms. It’s pathetic, really. They can afford fancy machinery and medicines, but they can’t keep us properly clothed.” not-Rimmer paced a bit. It had been a while since anybody had listened to him rant. All of the other patients had started ignoring him long ago. “And the doctors! They’re incompetent to the point of being useless. We get different medicines every month, but they never do anything. At least, nothing useful. The fellow two rooms down took too many of the purple pills last week and became convinced that we were all dead. He ended up running through the halls starkers. Pitiful sight, really. Nearly bowled me over.”

Lister wanted to tune him out, but with every sentence he knew more about this place. Perhaps he could learn something that he could use to get out of here. However, he was getting hungry. “Rimmer. Shut. Up.”

“Hmm?”

“Take me to the lunch room.”

“Oh, sure. It’s down the hallway and to the left. Can’t miss it. Anyway, as I was saying, one of the doctors cornered the git with a fire extinguisher and nearly had him, but…”

Lister started tuning not-Rimmer out and followed him out of the room.

---

The hallway was brightly lit, and looked exactly like a normal hospital hallway, except for the nameplates on the doors. Names like ‘Petersen’, and ‘Hollister’. Lister recognized those names. He’d been to drinking parties with them back on the Red Dwarf, or gotten yelled at by them because of some prank he had played. Everyone on the Red Dwarf couldn’t be a nutter, could they?

No. Lister shook his head. This place had to be a parallel dimension, or a GELF-created world. He had not been in a coma for the last five years. Not a chance.

Besides, this not-Rimmer wouldn’t stop talking. The real Rimmer did shut up every once and a while.

---

They arrived at the lunch room, only to find a ‘closed’ sign on the doors, and the not-Cat – no, Dwayne, kicking the door.

“Oh, not again.” Rimmer moaned. “Dwayne, stop that.”

“They kicked me out! I was only playing with my food! That pork only got away from me for a second…”

Rimmer moaned again and knocked on the lunch room door. “Dwayne, you know the ladies don’t like that. They like their floors to be spick and span. No grease stains for them, no sir.”

The door opened and Kochanski? peeked out. Lister started and almost ran to her before remembering that this couldn’t be Kochanski. Not here. “What do you want, Rimmer?”

“Ah, see, my friend here,” He gestured to Lister. “Has been in a coma for a while, and now he’s hungry. I know Dwayne might have messed up the floors a bit, but –“

“Not just the floors. He also got the ceiling.” not-Kochanski glared at the sulking Dwayne. “We’re closed for an hour. Come back then.”

“Are you sure you don’t have anything?”

“Not for you. Go away.” She slammed the door, then opened it a second later. “Now, for you…” She grinned at Lister and handed him a sandwich. “I’ll do anything, cutie. A tip, though. Don’t listen to him.” She tilted her head at not-Rimmer. “He’s an idiot.”

“Hey!” not-Rimmer protested. “I resent that remark.”

She winked again and closed the door.

Lister spent the trip back to their room in a happy daze.

---

“I can’t believe she still doesn’t like me! I’ve gone out of my way for her, and what does she do for me? Nothing. In fact, she insults me in front of you! What did I do to deserve this?”

Lister sighed. This brought him back. Way back. Rimmer used to complain about woman a lot when he was alive. Kochanski had been off-limits, but Yvonne and Alice had brought on nights of moaning.

“Rimmer. Drop it.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to hear you right now.”

“You don’t?”

Lister sighed again. He didn’t want to hurt this not-Rimmer. He wasn’t sure if this Rimmer was real or not, but he wasn’t going to break him again.

“Could you talk about something else?”

“Okay…Have you ever played Risk?”

Lister mentally groaned, but he nodded and let not-Rimmer talk.

Maybe he could help this Rimmer.

---

[Red Dwarf - fic] A Spinning Fan - Part 01 - WIP (discontinued)

Lister/Rimmer, PG.
It was inspired by this sentence: 41. Real: One day Lister woke up in a psychiatric ward and a doctor told him it was all a dream brought on by excessive drinking.
Written June 17, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

Lister groaned softly and pulled himself to awakeness. The light was bright, unfamiliar and it hurt his eyes.

“Where am I?” He asked, then winced. Ow. Was he drunk or something? He couldn’t remember drinking last night, but drink tended to mess with his memory.

“Ah, good. You’re awake!” Someone sounding suspiciously like Kryten spoke quietly to someone else for a bit, but Lister couldn’t make out the words. “Relax, Dave. You’ve made a lot of progress today.”

“What?” Lister sat up, winced, and tried to look around. The light was too bright to see anything, though. “What’s happening?”

“Lie back down, Dave. You aren’t ready to be up yet.”

“Yes, I am! Tell me where I am!” Lister stood up, wobbled, and regained his balance. By now he could see the room. It looked like a hospital ward. “What happened?”

“Sit down and I’ll tell you.” A man looking suspiciously like human Kryten walked over with a clipboard. He was dressed in a doctor’s coat and had a stethoscope.

“Okay…” Lister sat down, still tensed. The last thing he could remember was arguing with Rimmer again. Had he gotten drunk after that or something?

“You’ve been very, very sick, Dave. Ever since that car accident, you’ve been here, in the Unity Hospital.” The Kryten/Doctor looked at him with pity in his eyes. “You’ve been in a coma for-“

“Don’t tell him that!” Another doctor came in. “He just woke up!”

Lister’s eyes widened. What was Holly doing with a body? Nevermind that, wasn’t he supposed to be on the Red Dwarf?

He stood up again. “I’m leaving. Now. Where are my clothes?”

The not-Holly hurried over and pushed him back down. “You’re still weak. Rest some more. Everything will be explained soon.”

“Explain now.” Lister stood back up. This was not right. He was supposed to be on the Red Dwarf.

Holly/Not Holly sighed. “Kryten, go ahead.”

Kryten/Not Kryten nodded. “Thank you, sir. As I was saying, Dave, you’ve been in a coma for the past five years. We think you’ve been living in a world of your own devising, but there’s no way of knowing. Anyway, you’re still in England. Now, Dave, would you lie down again? You still aren’t well.”

“No.” This was wrong. This was very, very wrong. He had gotten drunk on his twenty-fifth birthday, but not that drunk. “You’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not, Dave. Lie back down.”

“Stop calling me Dave! You aren’t Kryten. You don’t know me.”

Not-Kryten stared. “How did you know my name?”

Lister cursed. “This is wrong. I’m leavin’. Where are my clothing?”

Not-Holly put his hand on Lister’s arm. “You are not leaving, Lister. Lie back down. You aren’t well. You’re panicking.”

“I can bloody well panic whenever I choose! Give me my clothing!”

“No. You’re disturbing the other patients. Lie down.”

For the first time, Lister noticed his roommates. His was the bed on the far left in the room, and his first roommate to the right was sleeping. Only he wasn’t. One of his eyes was cracked open, and his fingers clenched and unclenched the sheets.

It was Rimmer. He looked different, but he was Rimmer.

Lister almost stopped looking there, but a small scream from the other end of the room attracted his attention.

It was Cat. Only, he wasn’t wearing a fancy suit, and his hair was in mad-scientist mode. He was standing on the bed, clutching the bed-sheets, and pointing at Lister. “You’re alive!”

Lister raised an eyebrow. Okay, now he knew that this wasn’t real. No way would the Cat submit to wearing hospital scrubs. Then the Cat yowled and bounded to the corner, exhibiting all of the grace the real Cat had.

Lister shook his head, almost/not-quite convinced. If this was real, Rimmer would speak up right about now –

“So we have a psych ward mate again. Charmed to meet you.” Rimmer carefully sat up, faked a yawn, and held out a hand. “I’m Arnold-” Lister cut in.

“Rimmer, I know. Go back to sleep. I can’t deal with you right now.”

“How did you know...?” Rimmer withdrew his hand and sniffed haughtily. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Smeg this. Give me my clothing.”

“They don’t give us clothing! Yowww!” The Cat called from the corner, and proceeded to leap back onto the bed.

Lister put his head in his hands. “Sure. Whatever. I give up.”

Not-Kryten nodded. “Good. Rest well, and we’ll explain the rest later, Dave.” He left, and not-Holly followed.

Lister groaned and sat down. “I am never drinking again.”

Not-Rimmer nodded. “Capital idea! I-“ Lister interrupted again.

“Stuff it, Rimmer.” Then he laid down and tried to sleep. Maybe it would be all normal in the morning.

---

[Whose Line Is It Anyways? - fic] He noticed.

Colin+Ryan, PG.
Written November 20, 2006 by Cosmic.

---

He noticed.

He noticed when Ryan tilted back his chair, he knew that mean he was thinking hard, thinking about something important.

He noticed his soft hands, how large, yet delicate they were when they were in a scene, holding hands.

He noticed the adoring, loving look in Ryan's eyes that he gave him when he thought Colin wasn't looking.

The way Ryan was always close to him, even if it was only touching sleeves.

Colin always noticed these little things about him, he wondered if Ryan ever noticed him.

---

[Loveless - fic] Labeled as.

Soubi + Ritsuka, G.
Written December 22, 2007 by Zekkass.

---

Ritsuka was fragile, that was it. Soubi painted a line, curling it and adding to the art as he thought.

As strong as Ritsuka seemed sometimes, as cute as he was – he was fragile.

Like a butterfly, and Soubi shied away from that thought automatically. Then, hesitantly, he let it back, welcomed the pain of remembering. Ritsuka wasn’t a pinned butterfly, however – he was fragile and labeled ‘do not shake.’

Soubi paused and examined what he was painting. Purple, blue, black – Ritsuka’s world would have to be changed, if he were to govern Soubi.

Ritsuka would have to be broken.

---

[Lord of the Rings, fic] March.

Random Orc/Gollum, R.
Written August, 2, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

Marching. Gollum screams again, and Ugluk is forced to kick him to unconsciousness to shut him up.

Sauron wants this creature alive, but he never specified if he could injure Gollum or not.

“Up, filth.” He growls, when Gollum stirs. “Move.”

Gollum whines, but he lurches to his feet and shuffles on. Ugluk jerks the chain that is tied around Gollum’s neck and drags him along.

They march for another day, through the blasted lands. They stop at night for rest, but that is all.

Gollum sits and stares at the ground at nights. When he eats his ration of crackers, Ugluk doles them out carefully. Gollum must not eat enough to be strong, but he must eat enough to survive.
The days go on, and they continue on their way. It is a long march to Sauron’s tower, and a difficult one. Once, Ugluk nearly died when he slipped on a cliff face. Thankfully, he was holding onto Gollum’s leash, and Gollum was forced to save him; otherwise Gollum would have died, himself.

The little life-and-death moments make him wonder about the creature. It’s a filthy little thing, but when he is covered with dust from the trek, they really aren’t so different.

He does not consider Gollum a friend, nor would he free him. His loyalty to Sauron is too strong for that.

But he does consider Gollum a plaything, and when the nights are at their worst, and the travel difficult, he holds down Gollum and pleasures himself. The screams add a nice touch, he thinks, but he chokes him to silence with the chain anyways.

It is his rightful reward for putting up with Gollum, after all.

---

[House MD - fic] Drinkery

House/Wilson, R.
Drinking in a bar.
Written October 8, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

The first drink was a long, sordid affair. House smirked every single time Wilson took a sip, and he ended up nursing it for at least ten minutes. (House had his eyes on Wilson every single time he drank. Every. Single. Time.)

The second glass was a gulp-gulp-gulp-nevermind-the-burn affair.

(House wasn’t watching – Wilson didn’t know why.)

The third went down fast, and so did the next three.

By the ninth drink, Wilson was very, very drunk.

---

The lampshade was an odd touch, House thought.

---

“I’m not stupid, Housh.” Wilson slurred against House’s shoulder.

“Of course you aren’t, Jimmy. Just drunk.” While it was incredibly entertaining to watch Wilson wear a lampshade and hit on everyone in the bar, once he started slurring, well, unless he did something incredibly embarrassing, House wasn’t amused.

“I’m not Jimmeh. Mm James.” Wilson stopped for a second, and finished off another drink. “Yeh know I luove you, man.”

House raised his eyebrows and wished for a tape-recorder.

(In House’s mind, Santa suddenly jumped in through the window, bitch-slapped the bouncer, and handed House recordings of everything Wilson had ever said. And a shiny red recorder. Then he departed via helicopter with three girls in tow.)

"Dancsh?"

House sighed. Things were not going his way, tonight. “My leg? Hello?”

“So?”

“Hell.”

The music was slow, and they waltzed together with the oddest dance steps ever seen outside a strip bar. No one noticed, and no one cared, though. (Drunks were drunks, even if they were gay drunks.)

It wasn’t magical, to House, just a series of painful movements for his leg - he hadn’t taken his Vicodin, yet, and if there was any chance of him scoring tonight, he wasn’t going to. (It’s no fun if you can’t feel anything, after all.)

Wilson didn’t notice, and danced with his lampshade hiding his grin. When the song ended, he pushed his ‘shade up, giggled, and kissed House.

It was sloppy, it was alcohol-tainted, it was an opening: House immediately began guiding Wilson off of the dance floor.

“Come with me, Jimmy.”

“’m not Jim – “

“I know. Come on.”

As soon as they were outside and in the cold night air, House kissed Wilson again, hard.

Wilson almost sobered, then didn’t.

“Housh?”

“My place. Come on.”

---

Wilson was bad, horribly drunk bad, but House didn’t care. It was Wilson, the untouchable. He had a lampshade, and House found that kinkable.

---

Wilson swore off drinking in the morning.

---

[Blackadder II / fic] Last Offer

Melchett/Ludwig, PG-13, contains spoilers.
Ludwig offers Melchett a chance.
Set during the credits of the last episode in II. (Chains)
Written September 25, 2006 by Zekkass.

---

A flash of bitterness. “Why…why did you save me for last, Ludwig?” Melchett gasps, holding his arm. “Did you want to save your old friend?” Oddly enough, when he is about to die, Melchett shows his craftiness. Stalling for time is the only way he might live, unless Ludwig decides to spare him. (Which is unlikely.) He is no brave idiot, so he will not attempt to kick the knife away, nor is he a sniveling fool. He will not beg for his life.

Only the craftiest and most hardy of men may survive the Queen for more than a week, and Lord Melchett has surpassed nearly everybody in this regard. Perhaps, now, this is why Ludwig hasn’t killed him.

Ludwig says nothing, which is odd. Melchett knows that Ludwig should be gloating, taunting, torturing him. However, Ludwig holds his bloody knife and stares at him.

Melchett almost breaks for the door, but Ludwig lifts the knife, and speaks. “Do not leave. I am not finished with you, Melchett.”

“Then kill me already! You’ve won! What are you waiting for, my old age?” Melchett shouts, scared. He is tired, he has lost, he will die. It would be folly to even attempt to get out of this one, but Melchett enjoys living too much.

“No, Melchett.” Ludwig smiles. “I think I will not kill you. I will need someone to advise me, in matters of ruling, and you fit the bill very nicely. You will not die.”

Melchett can not deal with this. He is prepared to die, to live, to wait there forever, watching that knife, but to live under Ludwig’s command, pretend he is the Queen, pretend he loves him, as he loved Queen Elizabeth, no. He can not do this. “Damnit.”

“You do not like my decision?”

“…No.” Melchett wants to live. Needs to. The word is torn out, and he can’t quite find regret.

Ludwig frowns, but there is a note of victory in his voice. “Very well, Lord Melchett. You will die, then.” He steps forward, and stabs Melchett. “A pity, Melchett.” He hisses as the blood flows. “I was so hoping to shag you again.”

Melchett does not say a word; he is dead.

---

Opening and Announcement

As the website Secret Cube is still being worked on, this blog will stand in as an archive for Zekkass' and Cosmic's writings. It will contain fanfiction, original fic, and other nickernackers.

However, when the website has been brought up to speed, this blog will continue to operate, listing updates as they come in.

Thank you, and please be patient,
Zekkass