Disclaimer: Don't own Red Dwarf or any of the characters therein. But then if you're reading this, you probably know that...
Love and Friendship
Okay...Just to make life complicated, this is set in a series eight where the crew have returned to Red Dwarf and met up with Rimmer, but haven't been sent to the brig. Because I say so.
Lister wheeled his trolley down the corridor; whistling cheerfully. His shift was almost over and there was a zero-gee game being broadcast through the ship tonight. Okay, it was approximately three million years old, but Lister hadn't seen it and neither had anyone else, so it was almost as good as watching it new. He didn't want to think about what would happen when the season the ship had on tape ended. After that they would just have to hope they would come across a post pod or a derelict that had more. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate.
Lost in thought, he didn't see the other trolley as it came round the corner, and they collided head on. "Ooof!" The handlebar went into Lister's stomach and winded him. "Ah, crap!" A good-natured voice said mildly, "Sorry, mate, didn't see you coming! You alright?" Lister looked up and nodded. It was Alex Hunter from Y-shift. "I'm okay, man," he managed, "My fault. Wasn't lookin'."
"That makes two of us then," Alex grinned. Lister smiled back, weakly. He didn't really know Alex that well. Y-shift was a few steps up from them and therefore he tended to hang around with a different crowd; although most of the work-teams from W downwards shared a certain sense of camaraderie, born of being looked down on by absolutely everyone else. They usually smiled and nodded to each other and that was about it.
Alex scanned the floor for anything they might have knocked off the trolleys; "Don't think we broke anything. Looks like we might get away with it," he smiled impishly. "Good," Lister grinned, "I was just packing it in for the night anyway. Last thing I need is to fill out a stack of damage reports."
"Tell me about it. I want to get back in good time to see the game."
"Yeah," Lister perked up at the word, "Me too. That's pretty much what I was thinking about when I knocked into you. Promises to be a good one tonight, eh?"
"Oh, yeah. The Jets are really at the top of their game right now."
"Although," Lister stuck his chin in the air, defending the home team, "The Lions have been playing very well this season."
"Perhaps. But O'Neilson is still their main asset and he's no match for Jim Bexley Speed."
"Nobody's a match for Jim Bexley Speed," Lister replied, with a dreamy edge to his voice.
"Say," Alex tilted his head to one side, "Why don't you come over tonight and watch the game at my place? I was thinking of getting a few of the lads round, opening a few cans...My creepy roommate Higgins hates zero-gee, so he'll be out all evening and we can use his bunk as an extra sofa."
"That sounds like fun," Lister was chuffed, "Usually I have to watch with the volume on low 'cause Rimmer's trying to revise or something stupid, so it would be nice to actually hear the commentators for once."
"Great!" Alex seemed genuinely pleased, "Blue Corridor, number 58! Pop by about half past seven, yeah?"
"Cool. See you later, then!"
Lister dropped off the trolley and made his way back to his quarters in a very good mood. "What are you so happy about?" Rimmer demanded, as he came in. "Going out," Lister beamed, "I just got invited to go and watch the game with some people."
"Who?"
"Alex Hunter. You know him?"
"Vaguely," Rimmer shrugged. He didn't really know anyone that well except for Lister and, recently, the rest of the posse. "Still," he remarked, "Doesn't seem to me like much to get excited about."
"Who's excited?" Lister replied, "Just sounds like fun, that's all, getting to chat to some new people for a change. You never want to watch the footie with me."
"That's because it's a daft game and I have better things to do with my time than watch grown men run around on ceilings, thank you."
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." Lister shook his head, smiling. "Just tell the others I won't be coming up to the bar tonight, will you?"
"Fine," Rimmer sniffed.