Rimmer could feel his last dregs of patience ebbing away.

"Look, would you take your stupid grooming session out of the learning room?" he demanded. He'd checked the records and there was no actual regulation preventing a hologram from taking a promotion examination.

He hated to admit it but Lister had got a little bit of low cunning. Perhaps the navigation examination and the engineering examination just weren't in line with his natural talents. Instead he'd decided to apply himself to the communications exam instead. Granted there weren't any other ships to talk to but it was basically just managing a telephone and Rimmer could do that. He'd volunteered for the Samaritans and he'd managed the phones there just fine!

(And if they encountered aliens then having a real communications officer aboard would be helpful! He might even qualify for further promotion!)

There was just one problem (besides the baffling amount of discussion of protocols in the text book): the Cat had decided that the learning room was 'his' and was currently lounging on one of the tables, working with a small brush and mirror to ensure his eyebrows were properly groomed. It was Rimmer's own favorite table in the room too.

"Nope," the dark-skinned humanoid declared after a moment's reflection.

"It's the learning room, not the grooming room!" Rimmer protested. "Go do what you're doing somewhere else, where you won't disturb me."

"You go do whatever it is you're doing someplace else, goalpost-head."

The last drop of patience was gone. "Rimmer. It's Rimmer, you goit. Not 'goalpost-head', not 'wheel-arch nostil', not... not... whatever else crosses your stupid cat mind!"

The Cat squinted into his mirror. "Yeah?"

"Yes! And you will use my name, matey-boy. Or I'll... I'll..." He scrambled around for a suitable threat. "I'll think of something."

There was a pause and Rimmer started to flush in humiliation.

With a snap, Cat closed up his mirror and tucked it away with the brush. He almost bounced off the table and landed on both feet, flexing to straighten the shoulders of his jacket. The dapper feline sauntered over to look at his reflection in the window. "Looking good," he mused and then turned back to Rimmer. "Tell ya what, toothbrush hair."

"What?" he replied dully.

"I'll use your name."

"You will?"

"Sure," the Cat declared with a grin. "One condition though... Rimsey."

"What condition?"

"You gotta use my name in future." The usual goofy distraction was entirely evident in the Cat's face as he leant into Rimmer's personal space. "You do know my name, right?"

"W-well..." Rimmer tried to back up without looking like he was doing so. You're a hologram, he reminded himself, He can't hurt you.

The Cat grinned. "Course you do, everyone knows my name. Guy as amazing as me, the whole universe knows my name." He yowled sharply, spun on his heels and somehow kicked off to skid across the floor to the door. "Gotta go, got a busy nap schedule. You monkeys want me to use your names, stop calling me 'Cat'," he added with one accusatory jab of his finger before he vanished from sight.

Rimmer stared at the door. "But isn't that your name?" he asked out loud.

Then he shook his head and went back to the table. At least now he had it to himself, even if it smelt like Cat's cologne.