Feigning Ignorance

To be natural is such a very difficult pose to keep up. - Oscar Wilde

Lister awoke around noon-ish feeling very thirsty, having missed out on his beer before going to sleep. He pushed his body out of the bunk legs first and fell to the ground in a lazy heap. He rubbed his head sleepily and noticed Rimmer lying in his bunk. Lister lifted up his trouser leg to check the watch strapped on his ankle. Well, it wasn't night again, that was for certain. Why on Earth was Rimmer asleep again?

Lister was not one to ponder over anything for long, especially if it concerned Rimmer and he thought no more about it. He got his beer from the fridge and threw it down his throat gratefully. The coldness of it shocked him awake and he knew there wasn't much point in going back to sleep for a while with a cool drink sitting in his belly. He looked around for something to do.

Two years flying through space almost alone had refined Lister's great gift for finding things to do to pass the time. Especially as, as a child, he'd had few toys and had made do with those, a little imagination and any other things he could find to create a game.

Lister's favourite game from his boyhood was 'Operation: Destroy' and he continued to love it as an adult (a broad term). Almost any child quickly learns the immense destructive power of a magnifying glass and a hot sunny day. Lister had a whole ship filled with dangerous machines and weapons to play with and easily reverted to a mischievous boy-like state when given a target or a victim. Right now, his target was Rimmer's 20th century telegraph pole files.

But O! What to do with them! Fire was so cliché and he'd used the microwave to death.

"Hmm, haven't used the bazookoids for a while..."

Surprised was an understatement for Kryten's reaction as Lister snatched the bazookoid from his mouth. "What're you doing?"

"Well, I would have done it earlier, sir, but I didn't want to leave you with all the chores and washing to do."

"But WHY were you trying to kill yourself?"

"Mr Rimmer knows, sir. He knows and it's all my fault!"

Lister tried to speak but his answer came out in a strangled sort of squeak and he held his head moaning, "No no no no no no no..." Kryten wailed further apologies and reinserted the bazookoid into his mouth. Lister tugged it back and heaved a sigh. "Look, I know you're sorry. But there's no point in shooting yerself - what's done is done."

"But sir, I broke your trust. How can you ever forgive me?"

"Well... You know your favourite episode of 'Androids' where ZX-12 marries Maiden Yuu Essay?"

"Yes, sir."

"I taped over it last week by accident. So now we're even!" Lister concluded and legged it before the speechlessly angry Kryten finished pondering over whether Silicon Heaven was worth going to over being allowed to kill humans who tape over fantastic soap operas.

Such a delicate situation had not arisen in Lister's life since his overweight champion wrestler aunt had asked him if her white string-bikini looked alright. He was still visiting the chiropractor's four years later.

Rimmer knew. Rimmer knew and he hadn't said anything so far because he'd chosen to sleep his worries away. Lister had peeked in on him about an hour after Kryten told him he knew and Rimmer was still fast asleep. Lister exhaled his fear-held breath in relief and went to the cinema to think about it all over a film. The moment he entered the room the flashbacks hit him and he clung to the wall to steady his swaying body. The cinema was where...

He sucked in the warm popcorn scented air and rubbed his forehead wearily. This was not a good place to think. Nowhere was. There was no escaping the memories; the fun, the passion and the hurt. He would have to face Rimmer. And there was no time like the present.

Lister groaned and smacked his head against the wall when he saw that Rimmer was wide awake and waiting for him on the metal table chair. He'd hoped that for this, there was no time like the very distant future.

"Why so glum, Listy? You look like you've just been told your IQ is less than a dying rabbit that's gone catatonic."

Lister got an idea. A very sneaky one. He would pretend he knew nothing about anything and let Rimmer bring up the topic. "Oh, just been talking with Kryten."

"And?"

"And apparently I have to wear these boxers for another week because he hasn't fixed the holes in my others yet. Have er, have you spoken to Kryten at all today?"

Great, thought Rimmer. How am I supposed to make him bring this awkward topic up. Rimmer got an idea. A very good and sneaky one, if he did say so himself. His eyes glittered evilly at Lister. "Actually, Lister, I was rather hoping you would do me a favour."

"A favour? What kind of favour?"

"Oh nothing much. It's just I'd rather like to find out a little about myself here. Whether or not I was any different. So I was wondering if you would read my diary to me, as I can't pick it up myself."

Lister displayed a look of mock horror and gasped camply, "But that's your private and personal journal!"

"Oh smeg off, Lister. I know you've read it," Rimmer said and crossed his legs impatiently. "Go on then." Lister walked over to the bookcase and picked up the scruffy chewed diary with various chutney stains from where he'd sneaked off to read it with the Cat: and they'd had a good old giggle over it. "How'd you know I've read it?"

Rimmer rolled his eyes and didn't justify him with an answer, "Just read it. Start on the first day we come out of stasis."

"This is Captain Arnold J. Pick-my-nose on Smeg Date: 69. Today I worshipped at my Lister Altar before basking in his magnificence in person."

"Shut up, Lister! It doesn't start like that at all." Lister shot Rimmer a charismatically cheeky grin and started the diary properly.