There was a low chuckle as Lister ran his hand down the eagerly arched back of his bedfellow. "You like that, don't you," he mumbled, raking fingers over each and every bump along the spine. "Shameless. What would your mother think of you, eh?" A soft whimper told him to go higher. Lister walked his hand up to behind an ear. "…Here?" Crichton snuffled happily and Lister obligingly scratched until his wrist grew sore. Rimmer had toddled off a while ago for cat food and Lister couldn't help wondering what was taking so long.

They'd sat next to the box initially, completely mesmerised by the suckling kittens and if it weren't for the crick in his neck from leaning on Rimmer's shoulder he'd probably never have even thought of moving for the rest of the day. Crichton sneakily claimed the bed whilst his erstwhile babysitters were musing on the floor. Just as Lister was considering getting up, Rimmer had surprised him with another apology. At this rate he'd use up his yearly quota before the weekend's end. "What for?" Lister wondered aloud.

Rimmer studied his fingernails. "I should have defended you. Against mother, I mean."

"Nah," Lister grinned. "I get it. I'm a bit scared of her too."

"I'm not scared of her," he pouted defensively. "I just… I'm always disappointing her."

"Well, I'm no expert on this sort of thing; parent/child dynamics and all – I've never been a parent, and I was only someone's kid for a few years – but I think if yer mum is only going to support you when you do what she wants, she's not really bein' supportive, y'know?"

Rimmer had clearly never considered that in his life. It was an earth-shattering, mind-blowing realisation. You owe your parents your life.

But you don't owe your parents your life.

He finally found his voice. "You're deceptively wise, Dave."

"Thanks. I think…"

Crichton emitted a muted woof and jumped from the bed. A gentle knock from the other side of the door told Lister that it couldn't be Rimmer back and he hauled himself from the bed apathetically. Opening the door, he saw no-one, and it took a moment for him to register that it was because the visitor was knelt on the floor receiving overzealous kisses from her pining dog. "Heya, Great-grandma," he winked and was relieved when she offered an (albeit wry) smile.

"Yes, I had heard about your blessing." So Rimmer had been intercepted on his way. His lateness now made more sense and alleviated Lister's concerns. Well, some of them. Mrs. Rimmer's feelings towards him were still an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a puzzle wrapped in a floral dress. But her feelings towards kittens were worn on her sleeve as she cooed at Frankie's brood. "So this is what all that fuss was about, Crichty. My, my."

"Yeah. He could probably smell hormones or something on me. I guess you could say…"

"Hmm?"

"Well, if I hadn't brought Frankie then he'd probably have behaved himself at the ceremony. So I suppose I should apologise to Cass and John. For ruining everything."

Mrs. Rimmer sucked her bottom lip under her teeth, perfectly aware of the 'Get Out of Jail Free' card being offered. A more palatable explanation she could offer the friends and family. Yes, yes, the wedding was almost ruined but only because of David.

Lister flinched slightly as her pale hazel eyes settled on him. "Perhaps we should both take this as a lesson that animals do not belong at weddings."

"What about when people put a cushion on their back and make them carry the rings? Or assistance animals? Or pets getting married?"

"Don't pull threads, David," she sighed. He was obviously just being facetious for the fun of it. Lister slumped beside her and gave Frankie a gentle pet. "Soz, I just get a bit excited about animals. Can't wait for our farm to get up and running."

"Farm." Mrs. Rimmer sounded out every letter of the word.

"Er… yeah. We're gonna have a sheep and a cow and breed horses."

"With a sheep and a cow?"

Lister snorted. Rimmer had said exactly the same thing when he told him about his Fiji plans. "The fishing thing is just temporary." He had a feeling that his explanation wasn't comforting as he watched Mrs. Rimmer internally struggle over which lifestyle was worse. "We've got the land. We're just trying to save up the dosh for the animals. Though, actually I might have new plans for it. This weekend got me thinking and well…"

Mrs. Rimmer appeared to brace herself.

"I was sort of maybe… gonna ask Arn to marry me?" Lister braced himself as well when he saw her lip twitch irregularly.

"I would advise against it."

The answer left him a little hollow. He'd hoped for a positive reaction though doubted he'd get one; instead had prepared for a lot of screaming or perhaps even a shocked slap. "I'm not saying don't," she suddenly added, unexpectedly tender-voiced, "But now is not the time."

"Well yeah, I mean, we don't want to steal thunder away from the bride and groom. I'm doing it later, when everyone's gone."

"I mean it's too soon for Arnold. This is his first relationship and it's only been two years. You don't want to be too intense."

Actually it had been one year made-up and one year of official going out, not that they were going to confess that any time soon.

"I suppose you're after our blessing," she continued. "It's clear you're not asking for permission."

"Would I ever get either?" Lister's patience quietly snapped and to his further annoyance Mrs. Rimmer seemed amused. She got to her feet, brushing the dog fur and slobber from her dress. "I do not expect you to unreservedly accept my counsel. But please consider it."

Maybe she was hoping that if Lister led Rimmer on for long enough he'd get fed up and go running back to mumsy and daddums and more importantly the Space Corps. Lister didn't know for sure. But he wanted to believe that she was sharing a personal motherly insight into Rimmer's psyche, and that he should trust her against all evidence and sense. "Okay. I'll put it on the back burner."

"Do you have a lint roller?"

Well that was a conversation derailment if ever there was one. "Er... yeah. Suitcase."

"Thank you. We don't want to be covered in hairs for the photos."

"Photos?"

"Cassandra and Jonathan paid a little extra for the photographer to come back here for the group photos." She looked up from her de-fluffing. "Well? Get your jacket back on."

Lister almost ripped the seams in his rush.

*Readers glaring*

What?

*More glaring*

Is this about the first paragraph?

*Growl*

This is a T-rated fic you couldn't possibly thi-

*If you don't quit it with this slow burn, we'll slow burn YOU*

Okay okay, Lister will get his end away soon. I promise.