Several images of Lister and Janine deliberately misbehaving for the photographer and several minutes of bon voyages with John and Cassandra as they gathered their things ready for the honeymoon later, Rimmer discovered a few things about his family. The first was that he had never realised how awkward they all were with affection. Lister, Cassandra and Janine had hugged and kissed and cried like one of them was going off to war. John had given his brothers an emotional nod of regard (one between them, not even one each), his father the usual Space Corps. salute (nowhere near as advanced and trendy as the one he had invented, Rimmer decided) and his mother received the most poignant of shoulder squeezes.

The second thing was that most of the extended family was only interested in the wedding. Whether they had other commitments to return to or they simply had had enough of one another (Rimmer suspected the latter) a large proportion had biffed off the moment John and Cassandra were out of sight. Aside from brief mentions of meeting again for any future weddings or funerals, there was no impending desire to reconnect. Again, this was a revelation to him as something not normal for everybody, as Janine was swapping numbers and addresses with everyone she could, and even Lister was waxing lyrical about how beautiful Fiji is and how if any of them wanted to check out Earth, that they could accommodate a few people.

It was a blatant lie. He wasn't even sure where the cats were going to fit in their tiny shack.

Thirdly, and more importantly, there seemed to be a personality divide based mostly upon age. The family that had gone were the older members, and the youngsters and the weak-willed that were still firmly under their parents' thumbs. The remaining stragglers created Club Rimmer 21-30 and were eager to keep the festivities going.

Cassandra's idea of an after-party wasn't as insane as it seemed.


Lister experienced a flashback to his first weekend with Rimmer, where they had ducked into a gay bar to throw off his brother's scent. The chart hits that reverberated around the reception were a far cry from his usual musical fare of Rastabilly Skank but it was a lot better than the Edelweiss stuff (Fur Elise, Cass had corrected him) that had been going on the day before. At least it had lyrics he understood, and a beat he could nod to. Which was more than could be said about the Rimmers valiantly trying to work out if they wanted to dance in time to the words or the music. It was cute, especially his Rimmer, frantically trying to follow Janine's footwork as she tore around the dance floor like a whippet. The way his tongue flicked out in concentration – it was both adorable and alluring to Lister.

Not quite as sweet was the only older party member, Uncle Frank, eyeing up all the ladies in the room. Lister had a creepy feeling that Uncle Frank wasn't fussy enough to differentiate between the ones that had married in and the ones that could offer him a kidney. "So er, when you going back, mate?" Lister tried to divert his attention.

"First thing in the morn after brekky, same as the others. Yourself?"

"Staying for the cream tea. Arn's obsessed with it for some reason."

Uncle Frank smiled. "Is he now? Perhaps he's reluctant to have you and his mother in close quarters again." That wouldn't have surprised Lister at all. She was definitely being more pleasant, at least up until she excused herself from the festivities to go to bed but there was still some kind of rift there. Unseen, unspoken, but still sharp enough to cut him to the quick. "Just wish I could work out why she hates me."

"Oh no no, you've got Ellen all wrong. She doesn't hate you."

"Eh?"

"She's scared of you."

"Of me?"

"You remind her of someone."

Lister edged closer, intensely curious. "Oh?"

"She was a lot like Arnie-boy is. I mean how he is now, thanks to you. Sassy little thing she was, once upon."

Lister could well believe it. He thought her quite sassy even now. At least when she wanted to be.

"And then, well let's just say she knows what it's like to be swept away, and swept aside."

"I'm not going anywhere," Lister said defensively.

"Glad to hear it, Skipper," Uncle Frank smiled against his glass. "And speaking of Arnie-boy," he began just as Rimmer fell towards the bar. "Need… electrolytes… she's killing… me."

"Ahnie!" Janine squealed from the dancefloor.

"Oh god, save me, please."

Lister downed the rest of his pint. "Let's go check on our brood. Later, Uncle Frank." Rimmer gasped a similar farewell though his voice was too hoarse to be understood.


Frankie was a stray, a cat and a female; three things that guaranteed she could take care of herself. She did not appreciate being babied by the humans she had taken pity on and adopted. Nevertheless, she gratefully took the salmon Lister had smuggled up for her. He watched her daintily pull it apart for consumption whilst Rimmer quenched his dance-induced thirst in the bathroom. He returned collapsing backwards on the bed feebly trying to remove his shoes with his toes.

"Good night?" Lister chuckled. A muffled "mmpf" was the reply. Lister returned to watching Frankenstein. Two soft thuds told him Rimmer's shoes had finally hit the floor.

"Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"That hotel clause thing. That wasn't true was it?"

"Eh?" Lister furrowed his brow. "Course not. I was just messing."

"Pity."

Lister turned to see Rimmer propped up on his elbows, shirt missing.

"You know I'm a stickler for rules."

Lister was on him before he could even think 'Geronimo'.


Getting near the end now kiddies.

But I have to confess, I've been cheating on you with another fandom. After this I might take a brief hiatus before making the sequel. Definitely not as long as it was between the first and second, so don't worry about aging too much between stories.