Clipper: An Angel/Red Dwarf x-over

Players: Wesley, Fred, Ace Rimmer, Harmony
Setting: Shortly before "Smile Time" (Season 5) on Angel and prior to the events of "Stoke Me A Clipper" (Season VII) in Red Dwarf. The players and their respective continuities were not created by me and thus i don't expect a dime out of this.
Premise: Fred gets a nudge in the right direction.

Act I: Morning Meeting

If you didn't know any better, you'd think this place was normal, Winifred thought, looking down on the lobby. It didn't happen too often, but even Wolfram & Hart had slow days. And this was shaping up to be one. Neither she nor the firm's science department had any deadlines this morning, giving her and her coffee some time to people-watch. Emphasis on people. Not a demon in sight. Except for the lawyers, but they were human. Technically.

Angel and Spike were out on a case. Lorne passed through, cooing and hugging as ever, but he didn't count; could a guy really be a demon if he sings Patti LaBelle? And there was Harmony, the boss' secretary, waving up at her. She didn't act like a typical vamp. Hadn't tried to bite her even once ... as far as she knew. That was something she could check on. She made a note to herself to ask Wesley if they could really trust her.

Fred didn't actually feel threatened by Harmony, but it gave her an excuse to stop by his office. Fred smiled, started sipping. Then she heard a crackling noise in the middle of the lobby.

So much for a slow day, was Fred's first thought, just before dropping her coffee and focusing on the sound, and the purple cylinder accompanying it. The portal opened just long enough to dump out what looked like a large ball of ... exhaust fumes? By the time it closed, she was in the lobby, pushing her way past stunned mail clerks and the swarm of W&H security that had gathered.

"Easy, boys and girls," Fred heard a voice --a human voice -- say from the center of the disturbance. "I've got enough autographed pictures to go around." What she saw upon reaching the voice looked human ... sort of. More like Young Elvis wearing Old Elvis' sunglasses. And riding some sort of Super Harley. And he was smiling right at her ...

"I see the pretty girls are in charge in this dimension," the visitor said. He stepped off his bike and kissed her hand. This guy's cheesier than Knox, she thought, but at least he's friendly. She had no idea three-quarters of the women around her wished that was their hand.

"Hi, I'm Winifred Burkle, and this is Earth," she said. "That's quite a chopper you've got there, mister ...?"

"The name's Ace Rimmer, honey. Looks like I took a wrong turn somewhere at Dimension 165."

She decided she wouldn't need the Harmony excuse.

Act II: Our Fathers' Sons

Wesley imagined he looked frustrated, arms crossed and leaning on his desk. He didn't mean to. He just expected it to be a slow day.

Instead, he sat on the front of his desk and took another look at this strange visitor laying on the couch. In sunglasses, even. Fred was standing by Wes' side, which was nice. And for some reason, Harmony was sitting on a nearby chair, holding a notebook but not actually using it. He had other things to figure out first, however.

"Could you explain it to me again?" Wes asked Ace as nicely as he could. "You say you're looking for yourself?"

"Sort of," Rimmer said, adjusting a throw pillow behind his head. "I was looking for the next Ace Rimmer when I got sucked into that … what'd you call it again?"

Fred fielded the question. "A stasis leak. From what we can tell, you were at the wrong place at the wrong time in that dimension you mentioned, and ended up getting pulled into our time." Ace took the news in for a second, then hopped back to his feet.

"Too early in the morning for that Star Trek crap, honey," he said, winking and making his way to her and Wesley. "Just point the way and I'll be getting back to my duty."

"Not that easy, Mr. Guardian of the Universe," Fred replied. "Your ship looks pretty fried. But we're working on it. You relax and I'll go check how Knox is doing. Wes, do you mind keeping him company?"

Not if you're asking, Wes didn't say. He nodded no and watched her walk away. Again. Harmony was still there, smiling.

"Harmony, you've been chomping at the bit since Ace got here … what do you want?" Wesley asked her. HThe quickness of her leap to Rimmer's side reminded him she was still a demon.

"An autograph, silly!" she half-shouted. "Is everybody this cool in your world, Ace?"

"Then it wouldn't be as cool, sweetheart," he replied while scribbling his autograph.

The vampire looked down and wouldn't stop giggling, even as Wesley led her out the door. Still, she was confused: What did Stoke Me A Clipper mean? Was she misreading Ace's handwriting? ... Wesley closed the door behind her.

"I'll bet you anything she doesn't know what that means," he said to Ace, chuckling.

"Are you sure? They speak English here," Rimmer replied, searching for a light.

"Not really. We're in America. Los Angeles, specifically."

The pilot nodded. "That explains all the lawyers. No offense, of course." Wesley poured them each some brandy before sitting on his desk again.

"None taken," he said and took a sip before continuing. "We do a lot more than standard law around here, but it's for the greater good. So, you say you're the only guardian of your universe?"

"Of every universe," Ace replied. "There's billions of Ace Rimmers, spread across all the dimensions. I was just on my way to look for another when I ended up here."

"Fascinating. Can I ask you something else?" Ace held up his glass to answer yes.

"How did you get started?" Rimmer actually paused before taking another drink.

"Nobody ever asks that anymore," he said, finally taking off his sunglasses. "I just kind of fell into it. Started with my father."

Wes pulled up a chair and sat closer. This was something he could relate to even better than inter-dimensional travel.

"He held me back a year at school one year," Rimmer continued. "I was the tallest kid in my grade by a clean foot. I hated him so much for that. You know what I mean?"

"More than you'd expect," the son of Roger Wyndham-Pryce said after a longer taste of the brandy. "Mine trained me since I was a child, but I was never quite good enough, in his eyes. How did you deal with it?"

Ace smiled and leaned back. He was enjoying this conversation.

"By just ... Doing. My best, that is. After school, I joined the Space Corps, and then this guy – another one of the Aces – told me what my calling was. And here we are. Nice to have a calling, you know?"

"Yes, it is," Wesley said. "But a good drink doesn't hurt, either." They shared a laugh.
As usual, Harmony poked her head in the room before she finished knocking.

"Yes, Harmony, what is it now?" Wesley asked. He hoped he sounded irritated this time.

"I just heard, Fred and Knox are done with Acey's bike," she began. "Oh, and that condom company we contracted with just called to thank us. They say their shares have gone through the roof today!"

Act III: Never Alone

Knox was annoyed. Not only did this Space Fonzie or whatever he was ruin what was going to be a nice, slow day, but the boss had deployed her anti-humor shields. Again. She wouldn't even let him sit on the motorcycle and sing "Greased Lightning." But then again, she wasn't looking at the moment ...

"Hands off the chrome, sonny." Knox turned around to see his reflection in the biggest sunglasses this side of a CHiPS re-run. This was what all the fuss was about? He'd show this guy! If he wasn't bigger than me. Or stronger. Then he wouldn't have a chance, he thought.

Instead he stepped aside as Ace adjusted the rear-view mirror back to his preferred spot. "Didn't mess with it, did you?" Rimmer asked the young lab tech. Fred fielded that question.

"He didn't touch it, and he's sorry for even trying to," she said, walking back through the lab. She stopped between both men and looked at Knox. "Aren't you, Knox?"

"Yes, sir, ma'am," he grumbled like a schoolchild. "I'm sorry, Spaceman."

"That's Mister Spaceman to you, kiddo," Ace said, standing up. Suddenly Knox remembered something he had to do, leaving the scientist and the Space Corpsman alone.

"There's something sneaky about that one," Rimmer said as he walked away. "Better keep an eye on him."

"He's harmless," Fred answered. "He's just a former ... Well, just Former. But, the good news is, you should be able to get back to your home dimension now and do your Guardian thing. I couldn't imagine doing that sort of thing all alone."

"But I'm not."

"Not what?"

"Alone," Ace said. "There's all sorts of Ace Rimmers everywhere. There may be one here, in fact, just waiting for the chance to be Guardian of the Universe. So I'm never really alone. A little lonely, sure, but the fans help make up for that."

"That would be nice – fans, I mean," Fred said, smiling almost to herself.

"I think you have one, and I think you know who it is," Ace said, climbing aboard his bike for the final time. "Maybe he should hear that from you, though."

It took a couple of seconds for Fred to realize what he meant. Then her smile grew.

Ace switched his chopper on and felt the tug of the dimensional walls. As Fred held on to the nearest wall, he turned back to her.

"Smoke me a Kipper, Winifred," he yelled. "I'll be back for breakfast!" And he disappeared into the portal, leaving a mess of papers and flasks in his wake.

So much for a slow day, Fred thought. But there was still that Harmony thing …. She turned and walked up the stairs out of the lab.

"Um, shouldn't we all be cleaning this up?" Knox asked.

"You're the trashman today, sonny," Fred replied. "The pretty girls are in charge in this dimension."

Epilogue:

Inside the huge W&H lunchroom, the two young men were frustrated. Another slow day. What they wouldn't give for some excitement – like the strange goings-on this morning in the lobby.

" ... And then BAM! He just shows up out of nowhere! I tell ya, it was somethin' else!" Dave Lister recounted for his increasingly annoyed friend.

"I know, I know! I was there, remember?! Now would you please keep quiet? I need to study for the senior repairman's exam."

"Arnold, I can't believe you. Didn't you even want to get a look at him? I know I did."

"I got enough of him just hearing his voice," Arnold Rimmer answered in a huff. "He sounded like a smug, self-satisfied git!"