Okay, you've all been asking for it, so here it is, a little bit of Lister- ness, I hope you enjoy it...thanks again to everyone who reviewed...Ta!

Lister took a drag on his cigarette, and looked absent-mindedly up the corridor. Rimmer sat beside him, right leg jiggling about nervously, flattening down his rebelliously curly hair. Lister groaned inwardly, and shifted uncomfortably in the hard, straight backed metal chairs.

He and Rimmer were having a 'friendly, non aggressive, informal, strictly confidential, impartial' chat with the captain and few other people who didn't appear to do any work but sat in oversized, lavish offices, and bossing people about.

The meeting was to try and find a way for Rimmer and Lister to work together in some degree of harmony, and to stop the corridor of G deck every being turned into something that resembled a blown up buffet table every again. 3 weeks earlier Lister had 'accidentally on purpose' pressed the button for a black coffee when Rimmer's head was coincidently underneath the nozzle, this resulted in Rimmer's upper half being covered in stone cold chicken soup, hot chocolate, with two dollops of sugar and a side order of custard.

Lister had tried, in between laughs, to tell Rimmer it was an accident and that he should lighten up. Rimmer would probably have calmed down at this point if Lister hadn't added that he was now a lot more appealing to the opposite sex.

What followed was the biggest and most violent food fight the universe had ever seen, the walls of G deck was now completely covered in a array of food stuffs, reaching from blackcurrant flavoured Jelly to frozen cappuccino.

When Rimmer suddenly realised Lister was winning, he decided it was time to bring out the heavy artillery. It was at that precise moment that Captain Hollister decided to stretch his legs and walk to the auto-dispensing machine on G deck, he didn't take kindly to being covered from head to toe in bacon flavoured noodles, earl grey tea leaves, diet coke and coke.

It had taken 4 triple strength sedatives to get the Captain to calm down, he was giving Lister and Rimmer 3 weeks, 3 weeks to sort out their petty arguments and childish fights,

Rimmer had opened his mouth to protest to the 'childish' jab, but then having a food fight was a little bit childish. If they had not sorted out the fights, and were still trying to kill or at least maim each other every working day then they'd be off the ship,

Lister had at first welcomed this idea,

But then Hollister added, without a spacecraft and no oxygen tanks.

Lister wasn't worried about this meeting though, he and Rimmer could sweet talk their way out of trouble, but the way Rimmer was acting you'd think he was Jack the Ripper on judgement day.

Lister, having grown bored with staring down the corridor, glanced at Rimmer who was slowly undoing the buttons on his JMC uniform and gradually pulling the sleeves up. Lister's eyes widened as he spotted the two pale red slashes. They'd faded over the years but they still sat pride of place on Rimmer's wrists. Rimmer, sensing Lister gazed, hurriedly pulled down his sleeves guilty

"What you looking at?" he asked, irritably.

"Nothin'" Lister lied "I thought I saw some money on the floor" he turned away and busied himself with his cigarette lighter.

Rimmer made sure Lister wasn't watching, before sliding his sleeves back up and stared at the scars. They were on of the many burdens of Rimmer's life; he hated having them on show, people looked at him like he was some kind of head case that shouldn't be let near sharp objects. That's why he always wore long sleeved shirts, that way he could hide his impureness from the world and if he had to bare his lower arms, he'd take the utmost care not to show his scarred wrists to anyone.

He traced his fingers lightly along the gashes, it was his comfort blanket, it was the thing he did when he was nervous or afraid. It calmed him down, reminded him he'd been in worse situations then this and pulled through...sort of.

While Rimmer was doing this, Lister was lighting another cigarette to calm his nerves. He'd never have put Rimmer down as the type of person who'd try and kill themselves, but the more Lister thought about it, the more it made sense.

Rimmer would often cry out things in the middle of the night, while he tossed and turned,

Begging for his father to stop hitting him,

Pleading for his mothers help

Cursing his brothers,

And perhaps even stranger Gazpacho soup?

Lister had often been disturbed by Rimmer's night ranting, but he never mentioned it, it wasn't really the thing you bring up to casual conversation

"Hi, man d'you want a coffee, and by the way last night I heard you say in your sleep that you wanted to kill your dad, have you ever considered therapy, do you want sugar?"

That wouldn't go down well at all!

Lister sneaked a look at Rimmer, his eyes were dull, cold, full of pain and anguish, the type of eyes a person would wear if they'd given up hope or lost total faith in everything they ever believed in. His face was always competing to show a look of sheer angry and extreme sadness, and sometimes Rimmer looked like a little lost boy, stuck in a strange, forbidding world with no one to help him.

Until that moment, Lister had always thought that Rimmer was just a person who made a mountain out of a molehill, exaggerated things for the hell if it. He'd had a couple of bad rows with his parents like every teenager and made them seem worse then they were.

A once forgotten memory flashed across Lister mind, Kochanski had dumped him, and he was wallowing in self pity, and as a joke Lister had said he wanted to kill himself, Rimmer had exploded into a violent rage, asking if that was Lister's idea of a sick joke, and that laughing and joking about suicide and death was the poorest of the poor taste.

Lister decided to give Rimmer the benefit of the doubt, he was just about to speak when an overjoyed Todhunter emerged from a nearby office, he gave Rimmer a fleeting look of contempt before smiling.

"Right, gentlemen, if you'd like to follow me" he turned on his heels and quickly strode back into the office. "look, Rimmer-" said Lister, graciously getting up off the cold metal chair, not entirely sure how he was going to word his message of hope.

"What?" snapped Rimmer, agitatedly straightening out his uniform, beyond that office door lay death, not just career wise, why was Lister choosing now to have a heart to heart.

Rimmer went to stride after Todhunter, but Lister grabbed his arm

"hear me out man" he pleaded,

Rimmer frowned, but his expression softened when he realised Lister, for once, was being deadly serious, Lister gave Rimmer a reassuring pat on the back "if ever you need to talk" he gave him a small smile "I'm always here...always"

End

Okay, here's my little speech time, (don't say I didn't warn you).

Thanks again for your reviews, it means so much to writers to hear their work is enjoyed, and they only take a couple of seconds to write!

Thanks to my mates, a source of constant inspiration, (you're all great!), thanks to one mate in particular, Lizzy (for those of you who are wondering Lizzy is Elizabeth, Rimmer's love interest in 'The Teenage Years of a Loser Called Rimmer' I wrote her in as a character as a joke, but its gone horridly wrong, she enjoys the publicity attached to it and that means I know have to think of a new way of torturing her (thanks for the extra work Liz!) she spent many, many....many hours on MSN, giving me ideas, inspiration, and hem, hem constructive criticism, perhaps to constructive at times.

I'd like to recommend a book, its called Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen and Kimberly Kirberger. It's a collection of stories about love, life, friends and learning. It's a great read and can often brighten your day and give you some faith.