***
Chapter 7
Lister had steadily grown to enjoy his new found daughter's company. They would stay up late, talking the night away with all of their stories, experiences and tales of adventures, romances and near-death circumstances... as Rimmer watched discontentedly from the wide berth she and her unknowing father had forced him to acquire. Just gazing upon her glorious beauty, those blue nebulae and the never-ending eyelashes, the golden waterfall that caressed her shoulders and back. Those images thrashed about and tugged so roughly at his heartstrings he was sure they would inevitably tear if he were to keep his jarring distance for much longer. The deeply corrosive agony he suffered from not being near her, not being able to thread his fingers aimlessly through her gold-spun locks, and never having the chance to stare as deeply as he once had into the eyes he adored destroyed him.
Truth was, to begin with, he really just wanted her. She WAS female, she WAS interested after all! And now his second chance at bliss was gone. Now, he realised, he really didn't just want her. She wasn't just for Christmas, she was for life.
He lay for hours in his blistering depression, whiling away the hours, days and weeks as Bexlie grew ever closer to her Father. The fading memories of her touch mercilessly attacking his train of thought. He wanted to just die. Again.
And no one noticed. No one cared about the deathly torture he had been subjected to. No one even bothered to even glance at his exhaustedly grey features, glimmering distressingly with icy tears. They were constantly being wiped away by his white-knuckled fists, which shook endlessly with a tragic tremor. He had been destroyed inside.
"No one cares..."
He had pined endlessly for love for his whole lifetime, and deathtime. He longed deeply for someone to care for him as Yvonne McGruder once had, someone who could diminish his loneliness and frustration and shelter him with the love and compassion he so desperately needed. He had found all of his dreams were reiterated in Bexlie, as soon as he clapped eyes on her. He knew then, she was 'the one'. He knew now, she could never be his. He wallowed in self-pity for weeks on end, never leaving his bunk, drowning in his tear-sodden pillow.
Although Bexlie had enjoyed her Father's company immensely throughout her stay, she was consistently niggled at by something at the back of her mind. Sure, finding her Dad was simply fantastic, but there was another void that required filling.
At night, she would wander aimlessly around the ship she had become used to, trying in vain to stop herself taking up the challenge her heart had set her.
"No," her mind wailed. "I can't destroy my Father's happiness..."
But nor could she destroy her own. What could she possibly do about it? She knew deep inside that her choice was slowly destroying Rimmer, much to the delight of his crewmates, especially the Cat, who found this more entertaining that watching a dog run at high speed into a wall with sharp spikes stuck on. This was far more entertaining that just merely seeing Rimmer get pounded by Lister.
"Hell no," he would snigger. "Internal agony is farrrr funnier! Specially when it's toilet brush head!!"
She wanted to punch the self-interested moggie, square in the fangs there and then, but she refrained. She had come up with an idea far in advanced of her previous efforts...
She 'couldn't destroy her Father's happiness'?
"....why not?"
Chapter 7
Lister had steadily grown to enjoy his new found daughter's company. They would stay up late, talking the night away with all of their stories, experiences and tales of adventures, romances and near-death circumstances... as Rimmer watched discontentedly from the wide berth she and her unknowing father had forced him to acquire. Just gazing upon her glorious beauty, those blue nebulae and the never-ending eyelashes, the golden waterfall that caressed her shoulders and back. Those images thrashed about and tugged so roughly at his heartstrings he was sure they would inevitably tear if he were to keep his jarring distance for much longer. The deeply corrosive agony he suffered from not being near her, not being able to thread his fingers aimlessly through her gold-spun locks, and never having the chance to stare as deeply as he once had into the eyes he adored destroyed him.
Truth was, to begin with, he really just wanted her. She WAS female, she WAS interested after all! And now his second chance at bliss was gone. Now, he realised, he really didn't just want her. She wasn't just for Christmas, she was for life.
He lay for hours in his blistering depression, whiling away the hours, days and weeks as Bexlie grew ever closer to her Father. The fading memories of her touch mercilessly attacking his train of thought. He wanted to just die. Again.
And no one noticed. No one cared about the deathly torture he had been subjected to. No one even bothered to even glance at his exhaustedly grey features, glimmering distressingly with icy tears. They were constantly being wiped away by his white-knuckled fists, which shook endlessly with a tragic tremor. He had been destroyed inside.
"No one cares..."
He had pined endlessly for love for his whole lifetime, and deathtime. He longed deeply for someone to care for him as Yvonne McGruder once had, someone who could diminish his loneliness and frustration and shelter him with the love and compassion he so desperately needed. He had found all of his dreams were reiterated in Bexlie, as soon as he clapped eyes on her. He knew then, she was 'the one'. He knew now, she could never be his. He wallowed in self-pity for weeks on end, never leaving his bunk, drowning in his tear-sodden pillow.
Although Bexlie had enjoyed her Father's company immensely throughout her stay, she was consistently niggled at by something at the back of her mind. Sure, finding her Dad was simply fantastic, but there was another void that required filling.
At night, she would wander aimlessly around the ship she had become used to, trying in vain to stop herself taking up the challenge her heart had set her.
"No," her mind wailed. "I can't destroy my Father's happiness..."
But nor could she destroy her own. What could she possibly do about it? She knew deep inside that her choice was slowly destroying Rimmer, much to the delight of his crewmates, especially the Cat, who found this more entertaining that watching a dog run at high speed into a wall with sharp spikes stuck on. This was far more entertaining that just merely seeing Rimmer get pounded by Lister.
"Hell no," he would snigger. "Internal agony is farrrr funnier! Specially when it's toilet brush head!!"
She wanted to punch the self-interested moggie, square in the fangs there and then, but she refrained. She had come up with an idea far in advanced of her previous efforts...
She 'couldn't destroy her Father's happiness'?
"....why not?"