Chapter Three: What a Gal!

Mace spent most of the day repairing her ship's drive. After doing a double- jump, it was as the French say - Le Deade. Rimmer spent most of the day avoiding her. Which suited both of them. Mace was not as amused with him as before. He was the sort of man she expected to see prostituting himself, unsuccessfully, at space docks. The Cat went to his walk-in wardrobe (which was actually one of the corridors on Level 3) and ironed all his suits, socks, underwear, in fact anything made of material that he could wear to impress Mace. He eventually decided that he was so good-looking he could get away with wearing nothing at all. Luckily Kryten dragged him away from the workshop before Cat could call out, "ATTENTION ALL LADY RIMMERS!" so that Mace would notice his birthday suit.

Lister meanwhile, had taken a more solitary approach. He moped around his room and the engine room, the medical unit and the Captain's office. Everywhere mopeable. When he returned to his room he picked up his guitar and began to scribble song notes on his arm. "Macey... you make me crazy... you're finer than lacey... how long must I chasey you-ou-ou..."

"Lister?" Rimmer walked in on his strumming. Lister dropped the guitar and hid his arm behind his back. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Obviously it's not nothing. Obviously you were doing something obviously wrong, obviously." He walked around to the other side of Lister. "What's on your arm?"

Lister jumped down and picked up his guitar. "I was just writing songs as usual. For Krissie." Rimmer raised an eyebrow but said no more. Lister jumped back up onto his bunk and began strumming again. "Hmm-mmm-mmm-mm crazy..."

"AAAAOOOOOWWWW! ATTENTION LADY RIMMER! I AM LOOKING GOOD!" the Cat screeched as he twirled past the door. He twirled back. "Is she here?"

"You're a complete and utter pervert, Cat. She's me! A female me! An attractive, successful, sexy me, but still me!"

The Cat shrugged. "There's just something about her..." he sighed. "What a gal!" With that, he twirled back out again.

Rimmer shook his head, "I ask you, what kind of idiotic, smeggy, goity, smeg-goit would fall for Mace Rimmer." Lister's strumming halted. Rimmer groaned with the crushing realisation, "You total, utter, big... utter gimp."

"You don't understand man! She's Mace Rimmer. All-round beautiful and magnificent heroine. She's not normally my type but there's just this power she has. When women meet Ace... everyone loves Ace! And everyone loves Mace, except she's a woman and..."

"Lister, she's a smug, self-centred gitette. I bet you anything on the weekends she wears dungarees and Birkenstocks and calls herself Bubba Joe Higgins."

"She's not a lesbian, Rimmer."

"Who does she think she is? Waltzing in here, oozing sex appeal. Ace I could handle, but her? No way. If you... or the Cat... Gah, I dont even want to think about it!"

Mace peeked her head around the doorway. "Sorry to spoil the boytalk fellows but Holly wants to see you, Skipper."

"You're in luck Listy," Rimmer sneered. "I hear Holly is ordained. You can be Mrs 'Mace' Arlene Judith Rimmer by 3pm." Lister pushed past Mace desperately trying not to look at her.

"Arnie," she said. "We need to have a talk."