I wrote this in about an hour, can you tell? I've had the main parts of this story sat on my computer for ages and I was just suddenly inspired to write the beginning. So I think I'll just put it up and see if there are any positive reactions. This is going to be quite dark, dark is fun but quite depressing.

So here it is. Set when Lister pours the SMV onto Rimmer and all those inmates start to flirt with him. What happens afterwards? We shall see…

Not a one-shot, there is more. Although, this could work well as a one-shot. Leave it to your imagination, bwahahaha.

Lister groaned as the fabric bit into his flesh. Tighter, tighter… He wove the tie around his ankle and the bed pole, tethering them as solidly as he could. There, he sighed finally. No way out, not without chewing his leg off. He stretched for the second tie, Rimmer's, that Lister had left on the floor – stupidly out of reach. He managed to snag it on the tips of his fingers and used it to tie his wrist to the other bed pole. He lay back, pleased by his work.

Rimmer walked in.

When Lister had played the prank on Rimmer – where he poured some of the sexual magnetism virus onto his shoulder whilst they were surrounded by large inmates – he never thought of the repercussions. That was what caused most of Lister's problems. He didn't think ahead all that well.

"How long does it take?"

"Does what take?"

The Cat rolled his eyes. "For the virus to wear off."

"Oh." That had been Lister's reply, before he became a blur heading in the direction of his cell. It would soon be time for all the inmates to return to their cells. To be locked in, until the guards decided that they deserved to be let out. Or it was time to eat. Whichever came first.

Locked in with Rimmer.

Lister slammed the door behind him, scanning the room desperately for some kind of rope. The guards were careful about these things. Anything that could be used to kill oneself, as criminals often did, had to be confiscated indefinitely. Luckily for Lister, Rimmer's ties had gone unnoticed. "Idiots, even I'd have thought of that," Lister grumbled, thankful anyway.

Lister froze as Rimmer walked in. He only saw the back of him, but somehow Lister could tell how pissed off he was. Rimmer ran a hand through his hair, sighing with extreme relief. A wave of warmth swept over Lister as he watched the alluring movement. There were no songs, no sonnets, no poems, no limerick even, to describe Lister's feelings. A lifetime of lust and forbidden urges poured out of every pore of his being and the ties began to saw a welt into his skin as he tried to wrench himself free.

Rimmer didn't hear the bed's squeaking as he pulled off his shirt angrily. That confounded shirt with the large, sticky pink stain, the only evidence he had against Lister. That bastard Lister. Oh, he had it coming to him, and Rimmer was going to make sure he got it. "Oooh yes, sonny-me-Jim-lad-son. You'll be laughing on the other side of your face." It was a weak vow, but Rimmer didn't have a great track record for keeping threats. He turned and threw the shirt onto the lower bunk, hitting Lister square in the stomach.

Lister didn't mind. Rimmer could do whatever he wanted.

Rimmer stared at him, the anger still simmering inside. Well, he had thrown a shirt at him, that was a start. "Lister, do you have ANY idea what…" The words wouldn't come, and Rimmer had to simply huff furiously to give his sentence some finite resolution.

Lister could only gaze at him in his sad desire, tenderly gathering up Rimmer's shirt in the hopes of the faintest scent of him.

"What on Io are you doing?" Rimmer scowled at Lister as he buried his face into the shirt fondly. If Lister had been in a normal state of mind, or body, he'd have snapped at Rimmer for being so slow. And then it dawned on Rimmer.

"Ah…"

He stepped backwards a little.

"LOCKS ON!" a voice thundered from down the hallway.

"Please, no…" The pneumatic rush of clicks echoed around the entire floor as the doors locked in unison. And suddenly Rimmer was cast into some strange parallel world with no way out, except to wait for morning.

Something Lister was not willing to do.