I decided to make a slash version of the previous chapter not because I am against the Cat, but just to get me into the flow of writing slash. I currently have three slash stories in the making and I just wanted to practise the fine art of fluff, as the other stories will be as fluff-less as a bald kitten. Enjoy!

With the dispute resolved and their egos soothed, Rimmer and Lister were soon back in full insult-slinging mode. Sometimes it was a just short burst of infuriation over possesions and other times they had hour-long marathons. Whichever it was, Lister thoroughly enjoyed them and the twins wriggled with encouragement whenever he was winning. Other than these matches, the days went by uneventfully. Lister wallowed in Rimmer's bunk and watched TV, loathing any movement what with his eight pound luggage. Holly pondered how to get back to Earth. Rimmer hustled the skutters around for a private project known only as Operation: Lister, which Lister guessed was about the Caesarean they would have to perform. The Cat avoided TV at all costs and made more baby clothes. Talkie Toaster and Kryten lay in pieces waiting to be rescued. It was the eighth month. The twins weighed about 4 pounds each by now and each day made Rimmer more and more nervous. Even Lister was becoming impatient from waiting for the inevitable. He trailed a finger from his navel to his chest in boredom during a programme about Fiji, which he was only semi-interested in. It was just yet another way to pass the time. When the babies are born I won't even remember what spare time is, he thought to himself. "Me drinking will have to stop for years!" he exclaimed. "I can't rely on the skutters or the Cat to watch them while I'm drunk. If they have an accident and I'm too pissed to help them..." He trailed off. Rimmer's face blipped onto the screen. "Good news Listy, the skutters have finally gotten the hang of this caesarean business. You won't have to go through the fun of giving birth after all." Lister breathed a sigh of relief. "Where would they have come out otherwise?"
"You really want to know?"
"No."
"Well I'll tell you if you keep insisting on it," Rimmer smiled wickedly. Lister closed and his eyes and prayed not to hear any words along the lines of "anus". "The navel. Ha, had you really worried there, didn't I?"
"The belly button? Geez, Rimmer! I was nearly shittin' meself."
"Or at the very least, hoping you wouldn't have to in a months time," Rimmer chuckled. Lister was about to throw something Rimmer's way when there was a strange sensation and he felt his T-shirt become wet. "Me smegging waters have broken!"
"Are you absolutely sure?"
"Well it's not very often me belly button leaks!" He sat down as pain shook his whole body. "Holly!!!" Rimmer squeaked.
"Alright dudes?" she said as her head appeared on the other wall. Rimmer pointed at Lister. "Already? Well that's a bugger. I had a bet going with the toaster they'd be at least 3 days late. But as he's dead I suppose I automatically win anyway."
Rimmer tapped his unseen foot impatiently, "Holly..." She nodded and rallied the skutters to the medibay. "Think you can walk to the medibay, Dave?" One look told Rimmer that the answer was most definitely "no chance you big fat smeg-head". But to his surprise, Lister staggered to his feet anyway and made the painstaking journey to the medibay. There, he sunk down onto the skutter-height bed that was prepared. "You sure they know what they're doing?" Lister puffed between each contraction. For some strange reason their pace had quickened and were only ? seconds apart. "'Course they do," Rimmer lied. He still had no clue how the skutters were going to lift the babies out, or even clean them up. They could cut the umbilical cord after a few weeks practice with strings of chipolata sausages. They could open Lister up and use the lasers to seal him up again. Rimmer was confident that there wouldn't even be a scar. But as much as it sickened him to admit it - they needed the Cat. "Breathe, Listy... try to relax."
"YOU TRY TO RELAX WITH TWO BABIES TRYING TO SQUEEZE OUT OF YOUR BELLY BUTTON!!!" Lister yelled in agony and distress as the skutters placed up a green curtain ready for the Caesarean. Holly watched on and Rimmer too felt utterly helpless. "Hang on a mo'!" Holly said. "There's a ship approaching."
"Oh that's all we need! Aliens!" groaned Rimmer. "Another time and place PLEASE, lads?"
"It's got a Space Corps. logo." Holly said. Lister turned his head towards her. "There's people still alive?! All the way out here? I can't smegging believe it."
"This is all a bit suspicious to me," Rimmer scowled. "Like it was planned somehow." A large explosion rocked the ship. Lister squealed with pain. "The ship knows the security codes and it's entered the docking bay," said Holly. "Let's hope they're nice Space Corps pilots."
Lister tore down the curtain, "We'll wait for them."
"But Lister!"
"We'll WAIT for them. They might have a doctor or someone with some medical knowledge." A few minutes passed when the medibay door swished open and a handsome man in a silver spacesuit and wearing sunglasses stepped in. He tossed his head and his golden hair fell over his chiselled face. With a smooth ballet-worthy move he removed the sunglasses. "RIMMER?!" Lister panicked that he was losing his mind with agony. "Friends call me Ace - I'm from a parallel universe to yours, no time to explain. I'm here to help you." Rimmer stood aside in disbelief as Ace sauntered past and snapped on some surgical gloves. A short time later, two babies lay in their incubators. Rimmer already couldn't stand this guy. Better-looking, doctor, pilot... and he'd been able to help Lister, probably the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend, when he himself couldn't. He felt even more useless. Now, he decided, was a good time to wallow in self-hatred and misery. Ace was glad when he left. "Davey?" he whispered. Lister opened his eyes and looked at Ace's upside-down head groggily. "You're really real? It wasnt a dream?"
"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me sober. Though, technically you're on drugs which is worse." Lister smiled weakly. "How can it be the nicest thing? I've only just met you."
"It's ME Lister. Rimmer. The Rimmer who just left in a big huff. I've come from the future. Listen, in the future I leave Red Dwarf to become a space hero. We always thought the Cat delivered your babies but I've realised that it could've been a cover-up, like with Lisa Yates. So I figured out that I come back to help you give birth, then give you all false memories." Lister half-heard him. He was still very tired and aching from the birth. The skutters tapped impatiently at Rimmer's feet and legs. He was in their way of tending to Lister. "In a moment you little smegs."
"Rimmer..."
"Right here, Listy." he stroked his head. "I'm sorry I left you all. I've regretted it ever since." He looked around carefully. No one. Upside down, he gently kissed Lister on the lips. "What're you..." Lister mumbled against him.
Rimmer put his sunglasses back on, "It's alright, you won't remember anything. I'll save you the embarrassment." Lister still wasn't entirely sure what was going on when Rimmer placed the memory device on his head. Lister mumbled something softly as Rimmer replaced his memory. "You'll think the Cat did it all, and I was never here. And Rimmer... I'll still be a smeghead to you. Until the day I realise why." With a small sigh, he wandered off to make Rimmer, the Cat and Holly forget as well. Lister slept contentedly, his hand resting on his mouth. Soon, the Cat came back, in a green suit with more frills than an Adam Ant convention, carrying more baby clothes, convinced of his heroic if gross actions a few moments ago. "This is where I truly excel," he said and began the process of assigning different outfits to each baby. Despite being in a sense 'clones,' the twins still looked different and therefore required different styles to suit them. Jim was thin and short like his mother and Bexley was slightly chubbier like Lister. Rimmer looked down at the babies and realised that he now had to deal with three Listers. Thank God they only had one guitar between them. Perhaps as their Uncle Rimmer he could introduce them to finer things such as Vivaldi and Napoleon. "Hey goalpost-head?" Rimmer sighed. Though if mummy and Uncle Cat had anything to say, they'd probably turn out to be slobs, who would only wear the finest Gucci underwear 3 weeks in a row. "Yo, dead guy!"
"What?"
"I'm not the biggest expert on babies - hell, we cats are usually gone 5 seconds after conception - but they look a bit big, don't you think?" The Cat was right. Jim was already bursting out of the newborn suit the Cat had put on him and their eyes were wide open and bright already. "That's not right," mumbled Rimmer and consulted the book. Dr Watson-Smyth agreed. "What's up?"
"Ah! Listy..." Rimmer jumped at his voice. Lister gazed at his newborns. "Definitely worth it. Women aren't as nutty as you think. It hurts like smegging hell but... well just look at what you get!" he smiled and waved Bexley's hand about. Bexley chuckled and gripped Lister's finger. "Ow! Smeg, he's strong."
"He's also 2 weeks old."