a/n: Because it was mentioned and I couldn't say no. Dedicated to Her Spuukeeness.
In the beginning it was dark. Very dark. In one hand was some kind of cane or something and the weight on his head told him that he as wearing a hat. A brief reach upwards told him it was a top hat.
Why? Oh yes. He was in costume. He was performing. The lights flared to life and the music started, he looked at his audience. His one-man audience.
Far far away from the stage Lister watches him. He doesn't want to screw this up. He really doesn't. He has to sing loudly, so Lister can hear him so far away. He has to.
"I'm a little lamb..." He starts. Too soft. He's too bloody smegging soft. He has no amplification and he has to sing over the band. Why is there a band? Why did he agree to no amplification?
Because he didn't think anyone would come. He thought everyone would go to a better show and he wouldn't have to perform at all. o the best of his knowledge, his show was going to b a failure just like everything else he'd ever done.
But no. There was someone here.
Rimmer made an undetectable hand signal and the band quieted down a bit. He started again.
This time he knew he'd be heard. His voice was a strong, full tenor. He looked out at Lister.
He was smiling. Smiling?
That meant... what did that mean? Rimmer had no bloody idea. So he kept singing, and dancing. He did quite well, but then, this had been planned for months, hadn't it?
The song ended and the lights went off and the curtain dropped. Rimmer stood just behind it with bated breath. And then it happened.
Applause.
... APPLAUSE! He was getting applause. He scrambled to the other side of the curtain. Lister was clapping. And.. cat-calling.
Why wise he cat-calling. Rimmer shrugged to himself and took a bow.
The stage disappeared, and he was standing with Lister in a hall somewhere.
"That was amazing!" Lister was enthusing, Rimmer felt himself blush, he ran a hand through his unruly and sweat soaked hair (hey, those stage lights are hot!). Lister continued to ramble and compliment. Rimmer shrugged and made a few non-committal noises.
Lister hugged him.
Rimmer shocked for a minute that Lister could touch him, but let it pass.
"You really were good. Singing our song like that..."
Whatever Rimmer response was to that, whatever Lister going to say was cut short by a flood of memories of Lise Yates.
Oh, Lise.
In the beginning it was dark. Very dark. In one hand was some kind of cane or something and the weight on his head told him that he as wearing a hat. A brief reach upwards told him it was a top hat.
Why? Oh yes. He was in costume. He was performing. The lights flared to life and the music started, he looked at his audience. His one-man audience.
Far far away from the stage Lister watches him. He doesn't want to screw this up. He really doesn't. He has to sing loudly, so Lister can hear him so far away. He has to.
"I'm a little lamb..." He starts. Too soft. He's too bloody smegging soft. He has no amplification and he has to sing over the band. Why is there a band? Why did he agree to no amplification?
Because he didn't think anyone would come. He thought everyone would go to a better show and he wouldn't have to perform at all. o the best of his knowledge, his show was going to b a failure just like everything else he'd ever done.
But no. There was someone here.
Rimmer made an undetectable hand signal and the band quieted down a bit. He started again.
This time he knew he'd be heard. His voice was a strong, full tenor. He looked out at Lister.
He was smiling. Smiling?
That meant... what did that mean? Rimmer had no bloody idea. So he kept singing, and dancing. He did quite well, but then, this had been planned for months, hadn't it?
The song ended and the lights went off and the curtain dropped. Rimmer stood just behind it with bated breath. And then it happened.
Applause.
... APPLAUSE! He was getting applause. He scrambled to the other side of the curtain. Lister was clapping. And.. cat-calling.
Why wise he cat-calling. Rimmer shrugged to himself and took a bow.
The stage disappeared, and he was standing with Lister in a hall somewhere.
"That was amazing!" Lister was enthusing, Rimmer felt himself blush, he ran a hand through his unruly and sweat soaked hair (hey, those stage lights are hot!). Lister continued to ramble and compliment. Rimmer shrugged and made a few non-committal noises.
Lister hugged him.
Rimmer shocked for a minute that Lister could touch him, but let it pass.
"You really were good. Singing our song like that..."
Whatever Rimmer response was to that, whatever Lister going to say was cut short by a flood of memories of Lise Yates.
Oh, Lise.