Lister tapped his shoes against the floor, feeling extremely comfortable in his suit. Rimmer had begged, demanded and bullied Lister into smartening up for the occasion. He'd obliged, of course. It didn't mean that he was happy with the situation, and he was determined to let Rimmer be aware of his misery. Typically, as is often the way in life, Lister hadn't been able to find Rimmer since his brothers had dragged him away for what they would only refer to as a 'mini-stag prank'. So Lister had been left to mull about with the few guests that had arrived in the reception room early.
"Fun gathering, hmm?" said one sat next to him.
"Yeah," Lister answered, wishing the other guests would leave him alone.
"So, the old boy's getting married, eh? Can you believe it? He was such a ladies' man at one time. But it happens to the best of 'em. It's such a shame his father can't be here to enjoy this day. Taken from us so young, he was! He was so full of energy, of life – old Jackie. He always loved a good party. Shame he can't be here."
Lister blinked a few times. "Mr. Rimmer – you are here."
"Am I? Very well - wheel me in the direction of the cake!" he cried, furiously pushing his wheels. Lister watched for a moment, before being kind enough to let off the brakes. Mr. Rimmer was soon across the room running over as many people's feet as he could manage.
"Dave!"
Lister turned and was relieved to finally see Rimmer. "Where you bin, man? What was the prank?"
"I'd rather not say. Let's just say it involved a ferret, a marrow, a copy of 'Heat' magazine and a small pencil topper in the shape of the Statue of Liberty."
Lister gaped at him. "What was the ferret for?"
Rimmer waved his hand. "Don't worry, there's no need to call the R.S.C.P.A. Charlie was merely a voyeur."
"Well, so long as you had a good time."
"I did, actually. It was rather refreshing to be on the other side of one of my brothers' tricks. How're things here?"
"Bore-ring" Lister groaned, grabbing them both a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "I have no smegging idea who any of these people are. I only know they're related to you because all the blokes look like they have a golf ball stuck in their throats."
Rimmer suddenly turned to face Lister, pretending to admire the decorations on the table. "Oh god, it's Uncle Frank," Rimmer groaned into his champagne glass.
"Where?" said Lister, pretending to be interested in the glittered objects as well.
"Over there with his daughters, Sarah and Alice."
"Oh. Hey, are they the ones that you wanted to..."
"Yes."
"But your Uncle Frank..."
"Yes."
"Because he thought you were..."
"YES. Drop it, David."
Lister complied, his face distorting as he tried not to laugh, finally resulting in a deranged snorting sound as he burst into fits. Rimmer twirled a fork in his hand, contemplating sticking it somewhere fleshy on Lister's body.
"He looks nothing like your father, you know," Lister finally said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Looks a lot like your brothers though."
"What are you implying?"
"Oh nothing, nothing. I mean looks can skip a generation. Sometimes they even hop to the side."
Rimmer frowned at the implication but said nothing. After all, it was suspected throughout the family that Uncle Frank was enamoured with his mother. Whether or not she had ever complied… Rimmer didn't like to think about it.
"ARNOLD!" a voice boomed from behind them, and Rimmer turned around like a man about to face walking the Green Mile. Lister followed his example and was met by a bright and exuberant Uncle Frank.
"You must be the new beau!" he hollered at Lister, shaking his hand firmly. "So who wears the trousers in this relationship? Only joking, lads! Good to see Arnie-boy settled, even if it's with a bloke. Not that there's anything wrong with that! Plenty of you lot in the Space Corps. We've got one in my old division called Mike. Biggest whoopsie in the world. Could make Graham Norton look like Chuck Norris. Do you know him? No of course not, that's stupid. Thinking you all know each other. Though you might. He went to a school in Hertfordshire. Can't remember his surname for the life of me. Possibly Baxter."
"Uncle Frank."
"Hmm?"
"Stop talking."
"Oh, right-ho, Arnie-boy. Sorry. Got a bit over-excited there. How are you, my lad?"
Rimmer shrugged nonchalantly. Lister answered for him, "We're great, Mr. Rimmer."
Uncle Frank clapped Lister on the back fiercely, "My goodness me, lad – you'll call me Uncle Frank like the other girls do. Not that you're a girl, of course. You're another boy, I just mean as the opposite to the boys. 'The boys' are 'the boys' you see. Perhaps I should call them 'the nephews' and you 'the boy'…"
"Uncle Frank…" Rimmer warned again.
"Sorry. Shutting up. Quiet as a mouse. Won't hear from me again," he said, flashing them a dazzling smile. And then just as suddenly as he had appeared, he pointed away from them and yelled a relative's name that sounded something like 'Drippy Martin' to Lister's ears, before marching over to them arms outstretched for a warm welcome, in spite of the way they were obviously trying to scuttle away from him.
Rimmer exhaled deeply and gestured quite camply. "My Uncle Frank. Charming man."
"He's, um, memorable, that's for sure. Hey! For a joke maybe I should've told him neither of us wore the trousers in the relationship. Just rainbow thongs. "
"Don't!" Rimmer exclaimed, horrified. "He'd believe you and it'd be around half the Space Corps. by Monday."
"Wow, does everyone in your family work in the Space Corps.?"
"Pretty much." Rimmer downed the last of the champagne. "It's like a family trait."
"Like the huge Adam's apples?"
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Dave," Rimmer said, then jumped as Lister's arm thread around his waist. "What are you doing?"
"I be-holding my beauty."
"One, that is a terrible pun, and two, not here!" Rimmer growled, pushing him away gently. Lister leant against the table, sulking silently, hoping Rimmer's attitude was due to his anger about Frankenstein's unexpected appearance earlier.
Authors notes:
For anyone who nearly had a heart attack thinking Mr. Rimmer was dead, I apologise. However, if you're a huge Mr. Rimmer fan then I have to admit, he's not in this fanfiction an awful lot. Not… really anyway *trying not to give away much* But I promise you'll love him dearly by the end. Well, maybe just like. A little.
Jack Rimmer – It's a common thing in families to name your eldest son after their father and any following boys after their uncles. So it made sense to me that if Rimmer had a second eldest brother named Frank, then the eldest would be named after their father – aka Jonathan. 'Jack' is a nickname for Jonathan. Hence Jack Rimmer (who, let's be honest, sounds even more of a porn star than Ace did)
In regards to Uncle Frank (seriously guys, could you have had a character NOT named Frank?) I've always had a secret theory about Rimmer's past. I think Uncle Frank was his hero as a child. I always got an 'Ace' vibe about him. So imagine your hero clambering into your bed in the middle of the night and kissing you, leaving you highly confused for the rest of your puberty. I know that whole scene is played for laughs, but I find it quite a saddening moment in Chibi-Rimmer's life. I'm sorry if I've ruined that scene for anyone else. But I can ruin more!
No animals were harmed in the making of this chapter, though one ferret may be in therapy for a while.